A Class Act Felon

Other places on earth, opening someone's mailbox may be a felony, but not when you live on Chestnut Hill. It's an accepted, if not practically required practice to "mail" things to each other in the neighborhood, by just placing objects, letters, etc in the next mailbox down the road.
So, this weekend when my cousin Derrick called me from Fairwood to check his mail, it was something that I'm quite used to. What I wasn't used to, though, was the frequency with which he asked. He text messaged me once, and called twice to make sure I was checking it. Wise one that I am, I ascertained that he must be expecting something exciting in the mail. Finally on the third call I bluntly asked what was so important. It seems he was expecting a pair of sunglasses to complete his motorcycle ensemble. (The motorcycle is still missing, but the outfit it coming together nicely)
Having been woken up from my nap by this third call, my mind was desperately trying to think of something devious to get him back. Then, inspiration struck! I was going over to Fairwood that evening, so called Amy to see if she was game to leave 15 minutes early, as we suddenly needed to make a quick stop at the local Dollar Store.
We went inside & picked up a truly heinous pair of leopard print sunglasses. Going back to the car, I slit open the bottom of the box, only to discover two smaller boxes inside. It was kind of like one of those Russian dolls that you keep opening and finding yet more inside. I opened the bag (careful not to rip the sticker that sealed it), then opened the box... then opened the next bag which housed the sunglass case. I removed his much anticipated sunglasses and replaced them with the classy Dollar store find. I then put that back in the bag, in the box and in the outer bag, resealing it with the sticker.
Chortling along with Amy, we raced to Fairwood to see his reaction.... and anyone who knows this dear cousin of mine, knows that we were well within our rights to expect a grand reaction!
He practically danced with glee when I handed him the box. I had clued in a few people, so we were all watching with great anticipation. Well - remember how I said that there were TWO boxes inside, that looked exactly the same?? Murphy's law would have it that he opened the REAL sunglasses. And then refused to open the next box, insisting that they were exactly the same. I was incredibly disappointed. All those carefully laid plans for naught!
I kept the sunglasses until last night, but fearing for the eardrums of the unsuspecting sales rep who might have taken his call when he discovered the second pair of glasses, I brought them to his apartment last night....
Sigh! I HATE it when practical jokes fall flat... At least I can bask in the glow that it COULD have been splendid had he played the game right!