Crank Yankers is a show on Comedy Central in which they make prank calls to people, and then re-enact the scene with puppets in synch with the audio. It's a great idea and executed really well, and I absolutely cannot watch it for any length of time. I just get way too squeamish, partly because I empathize with the people on the receiving end of the prank. And I'll admit I occasionally had that reaction to Prank the Monkey. When Hargrave explained to workers at his local post office that he's a recovering sex addict, I had to put the book down for a moment to prepare myself for the rest of the conversation.
Which is fairly high praise, actually. Irritating italics notwithstanding, if I can get so involved in a book that I'm getting embarrassed for it, something's going well. And he's not obnoxious about it, or at least no more obnoxious than the prank requires; if he was laughing at everyone and everything was going smoothly, he'd just come off as a bully. But the insight into his fear while he's keeping a confident face makes Hargrave seem like just another guy like you or me, except he's got good ideas, more tenacity, better communication skills, and probably balls the approximate size and weight of a healthy pair of butternut squash.
Some time after I read the book, I received junk mail from a cemetary, offering to discuss my final resting options. That was the first time I'd received such mail, and it's one of those hope-crushing "Lord, I'm old" moments, like noticing your first gray hair or having an intelligent conversation with someone you've just realized was born after you graduated high school. I just stared at it for a minute, asking myself, what am I going to do about this? And then I thought, hell, I bet Hargrave could do something good with it. WWJHD?
But me, I couldn't come up with anything, unfortunately. If only I were smart enough, I could be that rabbit.