When my husband Tom found a dusty old bottle floating in the lake, we thought
it was just a curiosity. Inside was a letter claiming to be from a man once known as
“The Joker,” who’d been betrayed by his gang and left behind a stash of stolen jewelry
in his basement. According to the note, the treasure now belonged to whoever found the message. Skeptical but intrigued,
Tom insisted we follow the clue to the house mentioned. Reluctantly, I agreed—
after all, he was stubborn, and we both had a soft spot for mysteries.
The place turned out to be an old, crumbling house that looked like something from a ghost story. Inside,
after some dusty searching, we found a key and followed the letter’s directions to a locked basement.
But instead of treasure, we discovered another note tacked to a wall. This one read: “Looking for easy money?
Hahaha. The only thing true in my letter was that my friends called me THE JOKER! Hahaha.
” Stunned, we realized we’d been played. On our way out, a neighbor chuckled and told us about Harold
—“The Joker”—a prankster who once lived there and was known for planting fake treasure hunts
to amuse himself. We didn’t find gold, but we did walk away with a good laugh—and a story we’ll never forget.
