From the b3ta thread "The biggest lie I ever told":
We went a whole year at school telling the supply teacher we had for RE that Andy H was in hospital in a coma and that the new boy's name (in reality Mr H sitting there trying not to laugh) was Basil Clithopps.
For three entire terms Andy would hand in work in the fake Basil's workbook, while she would call the register and shake her head in pity when she got to Andy's name.
We would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for the small matter of end-of-year reports, where the whole ruse was rumbled, and Andy got a Headmasterly rocket up the arse.
The entire class was in on it, and you had to remember to call him the right name an' all that.
He got suspended for the rest of the term (about three days) and hung around the shops after intercepting the dreaded letter home from school so his folks never found out. He is still known as "Baz" by some people, and we should learn from his example.
OK, I've lied far worse than that, but you've got to pick and choose.
When I was a regular on the football365 forum in the days before it was crap, one of the chaps told a story of how his father took him to New York for the day. He went to school and told all his mates how his old man had taken him on a big boat to see the Big Apple.
It transpired that our hero lived on the Wirral and his dad had taken him on the Mersey Ferry to go shopping in Liverpool. Hilarity, indeed, ensued.
Then there was the time I torched half of my local park back in the long, hot summer of 1976 with matches "borrowed" from my mum's kitchen. I used the Bart Simpson Defence of "I didn't do it", and hid under my bed until the Fire Brigade went away.
Golden days? I now realise I spent my entire youth bricking my pants.