Well then, isn't this a lovely surprise that I'm updating.
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Travis's POV

I poked Connor's eye as he slept, it being 3 a.m.

"Go away mom it wasn't me this time," he muttered in his sleep. I poked him again. He did nothing, but continue to snore like a jack hammer being hit by a semi truck.

"Plan 34 point 9," I whispered in his ear. He shot bolt upright, turned to me and nodded.

Plan 34 point 9 is a carefully deducted plan Connor and I had been working on over winter break, while most everyone was gone. I grabbed our leftover stash of vanilla ice cream, silly string, unidentified brown goop I made in the kitchen, and a sack of chicken feathers that smell like pickles.

"Ready?" Connor asked. I nodded and followed him out to the Aphrodite cabin. The last time this back fired, but I think it was because we didn't have the goop. It has been infused with a sleep remedy, (curtousy of the Hectate cabin) and would keep the campers asleep while we finished the prank.

Connor and I both took turns smearing goop on their pretty little love loving faces. I caught Connor rubbing it hard on Drew angrily, as if for revenge for when she cursed him to shrink all his clothes. Not sure if this was on purpose or not but I decided to ignore it.

We finally came to Piper. We both looked at each other scared. Messing with regular Aphrodite campers is fun, but messing with Piper is a death wish waiting to happen. You can do it, Connor mouthed. I saw him gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. I shook my head violently. We both turned back to Piper.

She appeared to be asleep, curled up in a ball on her cot like a tiny kitten, clutching Katopris.

"Connor, Travis," she murmured with her eyes still closed, "I know your there. Don't even think about it."

"Yes ma'am," we both whispered, and began moving on to the Aphrodite girl's make up. We were finishing filling the hair dryers with pickle scented feathers, when the door to the cabin creaked open slightly.

A short, Latino elf boy stuck his head in, then opened the door more and walked inside. Leo. He had a sack of flour in his hands, and began throwing handfuls of it in the face of the Aphrodite girls, not noticing the goop we had smeared in them. Piper even allowed herself to get the flour treatment. I knew that trick. if she didn't have goop or anything on her, (and didn't use our pranked products) she would look guilty, so by letting Leo throw flour on her face, she would look like a victim too. He turned around, apparently satisfied with what he did (which he should be considering that was a juvenile prank), then froze when he saw us.

"Stolls," he hissed incredulously. We blankly stared back at them.

"Leo," Connor whispered calmly.

"What are you doing here at 3:30 a.m?" Leo asked, his voice squeaking, even though he should know the answer.

"What are you doing here at 3:30 a.m?" My brother asked awkwardly, trying to cover up for us. Leo twisted up his face confused, then sighed deeply.

"We were never here."

"Deal."

"Got it." Then he silently crept out of the cabin door, the empty flour sack swaying from the wind outside. The cabin door shut softly, leaving my brother and I back to our work.

After spraying all their clothes with permanent black silly string, replacing their hairspray with vanilla ice cream, and shoved all their hairbrushes and mirrors in the sack the feathers came in, it was almost sunrise. Connor and I silently crept out, trying to make sure the hairbrushes and mirrors didn't rattle. Back at our cabin, we high fived each other and almost immediately passed out on our cots. Pranking is hard work.
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The next morning at lunch, Leo, Connor and I were barely awake. One of our campers had to pull Connor's plate away before he passed out into it. But we woke up right away, once the Aphrodite cabin walked into the dining pavilion.

They had goop and flour on their face, except Piper, who was smirking in the back and generally unscathed from our other pranks. They're dresses, which were pink, were covered in black silly string, that looked like a spider puked on them. As they walked by, campers began to retch, as they smelled like pickles and vanilla. There were feather haphazardly stuck to their face. All and all, they looked like a harpy that got caught at a fashion show.

They were the laughing stock, everyone cracking up at them. Drew wrinkled her nose at her own smell and continued eating her oatmeal. Best. prank. Ever.