Jesup, Iowa, population 2,541, doesn’t often get into the news. Maybe the last time was for its Ying Quartet that won a Grammy Award in 2005. But now, Jesup is back in the headlines, this time, because the police department has issued an order of “zero tolerance” for—not fentanyl sales, automatic weapons or even undocumented aliens—but for toilet paper. Specifically, the kind that appears suddenly draped over trees after football games or on Halloween. According to the new policy, TP-ers will be arrested and charged with trespassing, criminal mischief and illegal dumping. Jesup’s crackdown was even mentioned in Shepherd’s News of the Weird under the title, “Fun Suckers”.

But what’s fun about throwing rolls of toilet paper all over some poor victim’s house? Pranks are inherently funny because they suddenly and harmlessly twist reality. You go to bed thinking everything is normal and wake up with streams of toilet paper hanging from your trees, telephone wires, across your porch and your lawn. There is that stupefying moment while you stand there in your pajamas with your coffee in your hand, thinking, “Where am I? Is this a dream?” Then you get it. You’ve been TP-ed.

There are different and contradictory reasons for getting TP-ed. Maybe it’s revenge for something you did. Or maybe it’s congratulations to a coach for winning the homecoming game. Or it’s a way a shy kid tells a girl he likes her. Or doesn’t like her. In any case, getting TP-ed means you matter.

TP-ing is more than simple vandalism. It’s a rite of passage. It’s performance art. It’s being a ninja warrior without actually doing anything bad. America’s indigenous Plains warriors would “count coup” on their enemies as a demonstration of bravery, leaving notched sticks in the enemy camp to prove they could come and go as they pleased. Or in battle, they might harmlessly touch an enemy to prove they could have hurt them but they weren’t worth the effort. TP-ing without getting caught takes skill and stealth. And money—toilet paper isn’t cheap. A four-pack of Charmin will set a TP-er back $8.50. Sure, that cartoon bear on the package claims it’s the same amount of toilet paper as 24 “regular” rolls, but that’s just one more grocery store lie nobody believes.

Americans have a long history of pranks and rebellion. It’s who we are. On December 16, 1773, colonists fed up with the British tea tax, dressed up as Mohawks and tossed 342 chests of British tea into the Boston Harbor without getting caught. The “Boston Tea Party” set the stage for the American Revolution. Plus, it was pretty funny.

For all its good intentions, the Jesup police department cannot stop people from TP-ing and will not suppress the spirit of fun and rebellion in Jesup. America may now be at the edge of dark times. But today’s Jesup TP-ers might be tomorrow’s Tea Party patriots.