by J.L. O'Dell
|THE PRANKSTER OF WINDSOR ESTATES
(March 16, 2019.) Winterville, NC., seems to be the home to a very secretive and cunning prankster. Roaming the streets of the Windsor Estates, an upscale middle-class area, someone is pulling pranks on the residents. It is unknown at this time, if more than one individual is involved. As of this report, the police have stated that no one has been hurt and there has not been any property damage.
So far, a total of seven pranks have been committed. When questioning the detective in charge, this reporter has learned that the pranks have ranged from raking the front lawn of an elderly woman in a neat pile, to moving another resident’s car from his driveway and leaving it on the front lawn of his neighbor across the street.
“It appears that the incidents in question are beginning to escalate. The longer it takes to discover who this “Phantom Prankster” is, the more emboldened this individual is becoming and the pranks are becoming more ominous. We at the Sheriff’s Department are asking citizens for any information or leads that will result in the apprehension of this suspect,” stated Detective Clarence in an interview conducted by this reporter.
Other pranks perpetrated by this seemingly deranged individual against this quiet little community of mostly older, retired people have included washing windows in the middle of the night, one resident’s car was washed and waxed during the twilight hours, and another resident told police that she found a $100 bill stuck in her screen door. I went looking for this victim so I could interview her.
“Mrs. Devins, how did you feel about someone opening your screen door and sticking money in it without your permission? Did you feel violated?” I asked the fragile looking woman standing in front of me.
“Oh, heavens no. I was delighted.” Clearly Mrs. Devins was too distraught to continue the interview.
I roamed the area looking for anything out of place or suspicious. I settled back in my car waiting for night. Past midnight is when I saw it. A shadow ran across the street perhaps 200 yards away. I slipped out of my vehicle with notebook, pen and camera in hand. As I approached the area where I saw the shadow cross, I heard a chuckle. So that’s the perpetrator of his whole sordid mess. A kid, I thought.
I returned to my car and had the shock of my life. A small man was sitting on the hood. As an intrepid reporter, I knew that I must interview him.
“Can I ask your name?”
“Aye,” was all he said.
“Are you the prankster of Windsor Estates?” I pressed on.
“Prankster, no. Friendly spirit, aye.”
“Why are you here terrorizing these people?” I knew I was pushing towards dangerous ground in this interview, but my readers deserve my best. I proceeded slowly, not knowing what was on the mind of this fiend.
“Good deeds I do for St. Patrick’s Day tomorrow.”
“Are you telling me you’re a …” He stopped me from speaking the word with a wave of his tiny hand. In a glow of what must have been a vehicle’s headlights he vanished.
After my report to the Sheriff’s Department, citizens were asked to be on the lookout for an older man, perhaps three feet tall, dressed in green. The suspect has ruddy cheeks, reddish hair and beard and speaks with an accent. If you see such a person, do not approach. He may be dangerous. Call 911.