I have a brother-in-law that works every now and then.
He reloads when he is not eating or sleeping or whatever he does to pass the time.When ever I get a new reloading toy he has to dis' it or put it down in some way.
To prove things don't always work out in life,he somehow got hold (probably stole) a Dillon 650 progressive press complete with an electric shell feeder.
I like to died when I saw it.Can you detect jealousy here?
Anyway , he had it up and running .45 ACP rounds.
All his buddies(who also don't work) were gathered 'round watching in slack-jawed awe.I was trying to figure out how to kill them all and make off with this fine machine undetected,when an idea came to me.
I had been to a friends house and he gave me about 200 .45 Auto Rim empties.I still had them in my truck. He picked them up at the range thinking they were .45 ACP.I have a friend that has an old S&W that fires these(and yes, I want that too)and I was going to give them to him.The fella that gave these brass to me said he had fits trying to find a shell holder for .45 Auto Rim.Thats when the idea came to me.I excused myself to get rid of one beer and fetch a fresh one,snuck out to the truck,grabbed a handful of said cases and made my way back into my unsuspecting -in-laws house.Now the boys had been puttin' more than enough beers under their noses and I had no trouble depositing these wonderful cases into the hopper.I even stirred em in a little.
The drunken bums..er.. my brother-in-laws friends were taking turns cranking the handle and slappin' each other on the back when low and behold,the machine threw an empty into the floor.It got so quiet,hell,the music even stopped.I was glowing inside.
A fella staggered over and picked the case up, inspected it and threw it back into the hopper.I blew beer out my nose.They started cranking the handle again and it went smoothly about 4 or 5 pulls,then,crunch. An empty got stuck in the wheel like shell holder kinda sideways.Cussing ensued and the pullee got a smack upside the head from my in-law. More beer came outta my nose.I was orgasmic.
Well, the real fun started.They started taking the Dillon apart.What fun? I went to get another beer and gladly offered to bring some back.They all ignored me and went grumbling to their tear down job.When I got back, the press was pretty well stripped down.The morons were pointing out all the lil' things they found that could cause the malfunction.My snickering brought on the scowls that were brushed off to my buzz.I only had three beers and I am very big guy.I went on snickering and handing them tools.I had to leave before I busted a gut.
I'll talk him outta that Dillon before Christmas.

Poletax, you better buy it cheap because those dudes probably lost half the parts and bent up most of the others. If Dillon reads your story they may not rebuild it under the warranty, either.

Phil S.

Now, thjis is an example of a practical joke that didn't hurt aanyone. Funny too! It would have been great to have been there to witness this episode!!

Poletax, you're a skunk!