Author's Note

Laughter is one of the most misunderstood gifts we carry.

We often treat it as weightless—something spontaneous, harmless, and free of consequence. We assume it arrives without responsibility. Yet laughter is powerful. It can bridge strangers, soften grief, dissolve tension, and remind us—sometimes urgently—that we are still alive. But it can also wound quietly. It can expose vulnerability without consent. It can cross lines we only recognize once we are standing on the other side of them.

This book was born in that tension.

Prank Everyone Except the Dead is not a manual.

It is not a set of instructions, and it is not an endorsement of reckless humour.

It is a mirror.

The stories within are fictional and exaggerated, shaped by hindsight rather than impulse. But the emotions they explore are real. Some moments may make you laugh freely. Others may unsettle you. A few may remind you of a time when a joke went too far—perhaps one you told, perhaps one you endured.

That discomfort is intentional.

Because humour, when honest, always tells the truth.

As you listen, you may notice that the pranks grow bolder—and then quieter. That the laughter changes its tone. That rules begin to appear, not as restrictions, but as expressions of care. This is no accident. It reflects what happens when people grow—not by becoming less joyful, but by becoming more aware.

I believe laughter is sacred.

Not because it is untouchable, but because it demands discernment. Like fire, it can warm a room or burn it down. The difference is never in the flame—it is in the hands that hold it.

Beneath every story in this book is a single, steady question:

Who is this laughter for?

If the answer is connection, relief, and shared humanity, then laughter has done its work. If the answer is fear, humiliation, or someone else's pain, then it has already cost too much.

My hope is not that this book teaches you to laugh less—but that it invites you to laugh more carefully. To notice timing.