The copperhead story

When I was 8 years old, I lived in a 2 story white house with blue shutters in a suburb near Washington, D.C.. We lived right next door to a park with a creek, a bike/jogging path, some gorgeous woods, and a small play area. One afternoon, I was walking down the path and saw my brother and his friend with pellet guns on rocks in the creek. Their heads darted to and fro looking for targets. Curious, I stepped onto a stone in the creek nearby and asked what they were hunting. My brother whirled to look at me, pointing the gun at my legs saying "don't move an inch." I heard a quick "pfft" sound of a pellet firing and striking something by my feet with a splash that followed. "That was a baby copperhead, now get out of here before you get bit."
I left the creek and lingered at the park nearby, waiting for them to finish so I could see their trophy kills.
After they had gone, I went to the creek and saw the prize...a full grown copperhead dead in the water. I looked at it for a few moments and gazed back at the jogging path. I pulled a stick off the ground nearby and fished out the corpse of the fallen serpent, dragging it to the jogging path. It took a few minutes to position it perfectly with the stick as I was still afraid to touch it even though it was no longer of this world. I hid behind a nearby stump and waited.....
As a jogger approached, I made a quiet hissing sound and saw the wide eyed victim of my prank bolt away from the snake. I laughed so hard my sides began to hurt. Looking back, I realize the cruelty of using fear as a joke with someone, but it was so damned funny at the time through the eyes of an 8 year old.
Now, I think about what does make us laugh and at whose expense. Sometimes, what seems funny is just someone else's pain. Laughter in delight is pure joy, but laughter at pain, misery, or fear just helps us perpetuate it.