Somewhat sheepishly, I have to agree with you. Watching a video with my wife the other night, there was a real odamigachu moment, and I said so. She concurred.
I was cutting up a cantaloupe that I had brought over to my parents house. It was sweet, it was juicy, it was orange.
My nephew was there (age 6), so I offered him some. He said he didn’t like it. I asked why. “Because I never tried it.”
…? Whatever.
So later I was another room, and little guy came running in with a big fistful of cantaloupe. He said “I tried the cantaloupe and I STILL don’t like it!” and FLUNG it at me! Wha…aaaaiiiggggh!
It bounced off harmlessly off my head. It wasn’t cantaloupe. It was some kind of orange foam. He’d found it in my mother’s craft room and observed that it was the same color as the cantaloupe. It was my mother’s idea to cut it in chunks and have him fling it at me. She was in the other room on the floor laughing to tears. I decided I could either kill her or join her. I joined her.
While out drinking I will sometimes place random things in my fellow drinkers coat pockets. Salt shakers, mustard bottles, silverware, left over French fries…did this to the same guy every week for the entire football season and he never said anything! I can imagine what the thought every Monday morning when he put his coat on to go to work…wow I must have been really drunk last night…I stole mustard.
Would her name be Anya? 
Heard this one on Car Talk. One of the hosts’ friends got a new car and was bragging about what good mileage it got. So they siphoned gas into his tank.
The guy’s bragging increased, pointing to the newer, better mileage. So they decided to see how far they could go before he twigged. Seems he was willing to accept any amount of mileage, so after about a week of putting in more and more gas, they stopped.
Then they started siphoning gas out. The friend went frantic. They enjoyed it for awhile before coming clean.
I’m not much of a prankster, but I do have to do things to my husband to torture him on occasion.
We were once on an all-expense-paid luxury cruise in Mediterranean Europe (awesome as it sounds), and we ended in a very ritzy hotel in Venice. For some reason they kept leaving towels on the hardwood floor next to the bed every day, and it drove my husband nuts. He is not very tolerant of frilly extras, and he complained about it daily.
Finally it came time to come home. After our 12-hour flight home, he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and collapse in bed, exhausted. He nearly tackled me when he found, on our bedroom carpeting, a little white towel waiting for him on his side of the bed.
I guess the joy of the moment was his immediate understanding that I had done it, and I had done it to torment him. It requires a special kind of bond to do something so minor and yet get the perfect reaction.
You could do both.
In my dorm in HS some people had small loft areas that were basically just used for sleeping. One night a friend and I were hanging out in another friends room, and when it got late we said our good nights. The friend whose room it was wandered down the hall to use the bathroom, and I decided I’d go hide in his loft to wait for him to come to bed.
I heard him come back into his room, but he didn’t climb the ladder right away. I guess he was doing something at his desk for a while. Anyway, it was about 15 minutes before I heard him coming up. I didn’t shout, only sat up in his bed and said “Hi [friend].” He shouted “OHmygod!” and stood there breathing heavily for a minute. Guess I’m lucky he didn’t fall off the ladder.
The only thing that made it any funnier than just a regular scare was that it took him so long to come to bed. He thought he was alone for 15 minutes, and then found me waiting