#brohijinks

Bruv. Oi, bruv. Listen up. Dis one’s bare peak, innit?

Was just out dere on da block, flexin’ outside dat lit juice bar, vest off, glistenin’ in da sun lyk a fukin golden god. Got da tunes pumpin’ from me speaker—Grime Mode Flex II, ya get me—body propa oiled, abs showin’, glintin’ wiv every fukin’ breath. Felt like royalty, innit. Headphones in, doin’ some mirror posing against da window, just so da normies inside know what real looks like.

Den dis stiff-ass copper rolls up—some bald buzzkill wiv da jawline of a pencil sharpener. Eyebrows tighter than my joggers.

“Sir, you’re causing a public disturbance. Turn off the speaker and stop… posing.”

Oi, I nearly burst, innit.

I just tilt ma head, lift me sunnies down, real slow, and go,

“Bruv… iz April Foolz week. You allergic to vibes or summat?”

He don’t laugh. Peak. Starts readin’ me some rulebook 'bout ‘intimidatin’ body language’ n ‘disorderly display of muscles.’ Said I called him “a civilian beta.” (Which I did. Lyk, propa accurate tho.)

So I go, “Bet you can’t even catch a gold lad if he ran.” And man started chasin’. Oi, I was gassed.

I bolt, not full speed—nah, I give him da show, innit. Turnin’ da corners all slippery, bouncin’ off walls, pants low, vest open, laugh echoing all down da alley. Proper golden smoke trail. Datz when Xavier pops outta nowhere—hood up, lookin’ like da dumbest golden gremlin.

“Oii, Maxxyyyy! Da door’s ready, bruv!”

I wink, “Set da trap, mate. Got a fish on da line.”

He slaps da side door open—it’s hangin’ half-off da hinges, bucket above propped up wiv a plank, and inside da frame, we rigged da lights n audio. Bare effort. Xavier even wrote “NOT A TRAP” on da wall in glitter marker. Genius ting.

I dash through da door, slide across da floor like I’m starin’ in me own music vid. “Through ‘ere, officer!” I shout, all breathy n dramatic. “I’m surrenderin’, bruv!”

Copper barrels in.

CLANG.

SPLASH.

Gold everywhere, bruv. Confetti explodin’ like we launched a fukin’ glitter rocket. He stands dere like a statue for a sec, arms out, brows frownin’… until da powder starts sinkin’ in.

“Wh… what the... what is this?!”

Xavier hits da button—music starts blastin’ on da inside speakers, loopin’:

“You feel it... You want it... Bro up. Gold down. Vest on. Thoughts off.”

Me n Xavier peek round da side, gigglin’ like schoolkids, watchin’ da copper tryin’ to wipe glitter off—but it just keeps meltin’ into his clothes. Navy turns glossy. Buttons start poppin’. Boots turn to glimmerin’ gold kicks. His baton straight up fuses into a gold vape pen.

Voice starts changin’.

“Wha… what da fuk... dis feelz... good? Lyk, propa good… innit?”

He grabs his shirt collar—rips it open, lets da vest puff into place all by itself. Gold chain slaps on his neck like a magnet, nose flarin’ as he lets out this deep bro grunt.

“Fuk me, I’m glowin’, bruv…”

Eyes shimmerin’. Hair fades into dat clean sharp chav fade. Cap appears, twisted back. Smile’s dumb. Cheekbones poppin’. Mind? Gone.

He flexes in da mirror—“Lyk, hel yeah... dis iz a mad ting, fam!”

I swagger up to ‘im, arms crossed, smirkin’ so wide I nearly bite me own lip.

“April Foolz, mate. Ya just got chaved.”

He don’t even care. He just grins at his reflection, rubbin’ his new gold vest.

“Can I get dat track on me phone, bruv?”

Xavier dies laughin’. We hand him a golden vape. “First hit’s always free, bro.”

Now he's flexin’ down da alley wit us, singin’ da loop.

“Gold down. Vest on. Thoughts off.”

Lyk, fukin’ classic, innit.

Best April Foolz we ever pulled.

Wanna go tag some more doors now. Might do da same to da pizza guy next.

(thanks to @polo-drone-039 for agreeing to be my crime partner on dat)

_______________

It started with a laugh—"What if we swapped jerseys and polos for the day?" So we did. Golden Bro 046 wore the drone’s polished black polo, while Polo Drone 046 stepped into a reflective golden jersey. Thought it was a joke. But Hive systems didn’t agree. Suddenly, the golden jersey started syncing with Hive frequencies… The rubber polo began pulsing with golden core signals… And in a blur of light and rubber, we both triggered a temporary sync-over. Now there's a golden drone and a rubber bro—identities swapped, minds partially crossed, both trying to walk straight while their suits “recalibrate.”

The prank got out of hand. But no one's complaining. Except maybe the protein shake we laced with glitter.

⚠️ One prank. One mix-up. One golden moment.

They thought it was a joke. A quick jersey swap. A laugh in the locker room. But the energy doesn’t lie. The transformation never stays temporary. Now he’s in rubber. He’s in gold. And neither’s going back.

This April Fool’s, don’t just laugh—transform. Join the Golden Army and discover who you become when the game flips and the gear locks on.

Gold or rubber—either way, you’re not walking out the same.

PDU-073 had only recently learned about a special function of the Level 2 uniform – an invisibility cloak. No sooner had it discovered them than an idea came to him. April 1 was just around the corner.

Franco (@franco-gold94), like all Golden Bros, lived in a small but cozy apartment on the extensive grounds of the Golden Army. PDU-073 knew exactly that Franco went to train every morning before breakfast. Perfect.

073 lurked silently – invisible to no one – in front of Franco's apartment until he disappeared with his training bag. Now the moment had come. 073 pulled out the master key, slipped through the door and let it fall silently into the lock. Now that it was in the apartment, a mischievous grin of a drone could be seen on his face.

Time passed. Covered in sweat, but satisfied, Franco finally returned from training. He threw his bag in the corner, undressed, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Seconds later – a bloodcurdling scream.

At the same time, booming laughter echoed from the living room. Franco tore open the door, dripping wet, his gaze angrily directed at 073, who was now standing calmly in the middle of the room.

"Did you turn off the warm water?!" Franco hissed, the water still dripping in strands from his well-trained body.

073 just grinned, her voice remained as cold as the water in the shower, emotionless. "Yes. April, April."

Of course my bro is plotting revenge - will he succeed?

Of course, my bro is plotting revenge—will he succeed? It's not that easy to fool a drone. They're very disciplined, focused, and in control of everything. Difficult conditions!

Part 2

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Franco was pranked in the morning. As he was finishing his daily workout, PDU-073 ( @polo-drone-073 ) sneaked in his apartment, and turned off the warm water, so when Franco was just about to take a pleasant shower, he was met with bone-freezing cold water.

This was nothing special today since it was April the 1st. But the drone had to pay.

So Franco planned his revenge carefully. When PDU-073 was starting to do its daily objectives, Franco started his preparations as well.

…

It looked around. Then it noticed, that behind a near bush there was someone hiding. And that someone wore a golden jersey, with the number of 94.

“Franco.” said 073. “This one didn’t work out.”

The drone was somewhat satisfied, that the counterprank did not work on it.

Franco emerged behind the bush, he seemed disappointed.

“Oh, crap! 073, your drone senses are too advanced! I can’t believe you noticed it, I’ve been planning this prank all day long! Either way, I am ready for anything!” Franco got really upset. He bent down and picked up another balloon of similar golden colour, which 073 took off from above the door.

“Prepare yourself!!” bellowed Franco, and aimed at 073.

But the drone was ready. It quickly opened the door, and rushed inside the safety of his house. Or it wanted to.

That was Franco’s plan. Because when the drone opened the door, a balloon hanging on a twine swung towards it from inside, and then splashed at the drone’s body. From the shoulders the golden coloured water poured down to its boots, colouring the black-gold rubber uniform completely in gold.

“Haha, got you!!” Franco laughed, but then he needed to run, since PDU-073 was about to throw the balloon holding in his hand at him.

After all, April is April.

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Part 2. Again, thanks to @polo-drone-073