Seriously Brutal Revenge Stories

A cold drink on a hot day. Finding that one thing you really need at a steep discount. A little endorphin rush after some exercise. Sure, these experiences are all satisfying, but let’s be honest here. There’s nothing more satisfying than a little revenge. These Redditors shared their stories about getting back at the people who wronged them—and whether it was petty or completely pernicious, one thing is for sure: they definitely hit the spot. 


1. Is This Hacking?

My previous property management company was the worst. After a huge snowfall, the property management company hadn’t touched the snow in our parking lot for days. After day three, I called to mention we were sort of trapped and they needed to send trucks and snow blowers to take care of things. The response I got was basically “Sorry, we’ll get to it sooner or later.”

Important note: Years ago if you opened a Yahoo email, you could add a second email for recovery without confirming it. I created a new @yahoo email address and used their general @propertymanagement as the alternate email. I then signed up for alerts for every time there was an eBay listing for “snow plow” or “snow blower.”

It took a matter of hours before thousands of emails were sent. Ended up crashing their email server. They responded to all residents with a very nice email explaining they get the frustration, and they’re working on it. So, I paused the alerts. 24 hours later, still nothing, alerts back on. Another email, another pause, another day of nothing, repeat. Eventually, we got the driveway plowed and life was good.

Sidekicknicholas

2. While You Were Away

I was living with a friend of mine, and this girl who I didn’t know that well. We became friends and started hanging out. I ended up getting into a car accident on the freeway and had to move home. It took me a few days to get back to pack, and when I did, most of my stuff was missing. I was furious and upset about it. The girl told me my friend had people over who’d maybe taken things.

While she was gone, I stopped packing to go into her room and snoop. I couldn’t believe my eyes. This girl had taken over half of what was in my closet and hidden it in her room. She had everything from my CDs, antique perfume bottles from my grandmother, down to socks and bras. I was livid and packed the stuff that she was trying to take from me.

With more garbage bags, I grabbed all of the clothes she had hanging up and anything else I could find. I lit it all on fire. She called me franticly and said her things were missing. So, I told her the people who’d taken my stuff must be responsible. Once she knew she’d been caught, she threatened me and told me she was going to call the authorities.

I told her to go ahead because they wouldn’t have found anything.

udntsay

3. The Party Pooper

While walking to my gate at LAX, I noticed a woman whose dog was in the middle of the waiting area doing its business. The woman was loudly face-timing with her back to the dog, so I assumed she didn’t notice. That was likely the thought shared by the gentleman who tried to get her attention. “Excuse me, miss?” he said, in a polite tone.

The woman glared at him. “Your dog,” he sheepishly continued, pointing to the mid-poop pup. The woman rolled her eyes and went back to face time as the man slinked away, seemingly embarrassed. “Some people,” she bellowed to her face-time companion with no hint of irony, “are just so rude.” When her dog finished, the woman started walking away, leaving everything right on the airport floor. Another woman tried to stop her.

“You’re not going to clean that up?” she asked, as shocked as the rest of us were. “They have people for that,” the offender replied, disappearing into the crowd, as much as someone yelling into their phone can disappear into a crowd. I stood near the pile and warned people to walk around it while someone else got a maintenance worker’s attention.

No one said anything—we were so shocked that anyone could be that horrible. When I got to my gate, the woman was there, too. Great, we were both going to Tokyo. When I travel abroad, I get embarrassed by other Americans doing things one hundred times less embarrassing than leaving animal poop on the floor of an airport. To make it worse, her dog was now barking at everyone who walked by.

I have nothing against people flying with their dogs. I do it often. But it is a privilege I take seriously. My dog is well-trained and behaves better than most people. He certainly behaves better than that jerk. Speaking of jerks, there is a pet relief area inside LAX, past security, just two gates away from where The Party Pooper let her dog go to town.

It didn’t matter. She was the type of person to litter three feet from an empty garbage can. While her dog barked at the world, the woman had moved from face-timing with no headphones to listening to music with no headphones. I don’t like to throw around the word “sociopath,” but I don’t know how else I could explain just how selfish and terrible of a person she was.

I’d bet her car was somewhere in long-term parking, parked across three spots with paint on the bumper from the child’s bike she hit without leaving a note. Everyone else tried to ignore her, sitting as far away from her as they could. I am not everyone else. I sat down right next to the horrible woman. “Are you going to London on business?” I said.

“I’m going to Tokyo,” she responded gruffly, annoyed that I interrupted her DJing. “Oh, I said. Then you better hurry. That flight got moved to gate 53C. This is the flight to London.” I figured I could give her a little moment of panic as payback for how terribly she was treating everyone. I didn’t predict what would happen next. She grabbed her bags and her dog in a huff, and stormed out of the gate without even checking.

She was so self-involved, she didn’t notice that the monitor at our gate still said Tokyo and almost everyone at the gate was Japanese. Based on her actions, she believed me that the fight had been moved, so she’s also a jerk for not thanking me. “Some people,” I thought as I watched her rush away from the gate without stopping her, “are just so rude.”

The flight to Tokyo was at gate 69A, so the 53 gates were on the other side of the next terminal. And I felt guilty knowing she probably berated some poor clerk who had to explain to her that there was no gate 53C. I don’t know if she made it back to this flight before we took off or not, but I didn’t see her board and I didn’t hear her dog.

Her missing her flight was not my original intention, but it would be a fine punishment for her being so rude to everyone and making a low-paid stranger clean poop off the floor. What makes me wonder if I went too far is the knowledge that Delta only has one flight to Tokyo each day. Whoops. Maybe she can re-book on another airline. I hear they have people for that.

thehofstetter

4. Dirty Play

My babysitter was the sweetest until she waved bye to my parents and shut the door. It was summer and hot with Georgia humidity being what it is. I was stuck for a weekend with her and her bratty daughter, Tracy. She was slapper always going for my face with either a clawed hand or a mouthful of saliva.

She was a year older than me and had the benefit of mommy always taking her side and then punishing me for fighting back. I finally decided after being spat on all morning that I couldn’t take it anymore. So, I spat back inducing a scream from the mean girl that would make one believe I’d slashed her face. Her mother came rushing out from the rear bedroom where she usually read romance novels and didn’t actually babysit.

Her daughter spun a tale about how I just “out of nowhere” spat on her. And she obviously didn’t spit on me! I’d just done it without provocation! Having heard enough, her mom yelled at me to go outside. So, I did as I was told. The babysitter said that she was going to let us watch a movie, but since I “wanted to act ugly,” it was going to be just the two of them.

They were going to sit in the back room with the AC on blast watching a movie while I sat outside alone in the hot backyard. I could see through the window. I saw them cuddled up while the movie played. I strained to hear the music and the dialogue but couldn’t make out much. The window was filthy. After about 20 sweaty minutes, I couldn’t fight the thirst anymore.

I rapped on the window lightly, and they both jumped. Angrily turning to me, Tracy stood close to the window. I mimicked drinking something and asked if I could come in and have some water. “I’ll bring you some in a little bit!” the mom shouted and closed the curtains so that I could only make out blocky shapes and the dim, blinking light that was the TV.

And they turned the volume up really loud in case I’d wanted to protest. I hopped off the trash can and turned my attention to the old dog that really didn’t like people anymore. I stared at her sniffing around and watched her take a watery poop in the grass. Then it struck me. I plucked some big leaves from a tree and picked it up. I walked carefully and quietly to the back of the AC unit.

I smeared that poop all over the grates that I assumed air filtered through to get into the room. I was right. It didn’t take too long for them to notice. Tracy got up and looked over the bed as though she might find a fresh pile on the floor. Seeing nothing, she laid back down, only to get up again a little later. She gave the floor a more thorough look.

I could hardly contain my glee, and I really didn’t have to since the volume was up so high. They stood and hit pause while I ran to the broken swing set as if I’d been there since the curtains had shut. The babysitter called for me and, for a moment, I thought I was in trouble. Instead, a fat hand with a cup of ice water poked out of a sliding glass door, and I drank it with an unusual amount of satisfaction.

She let me come back in not too long after that. I asked if we could watch the movie. She bitterly said, “no.” She had to bring her pillows and stuff to read her book in the living room.

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5. Trouble Spot

Back when I was little, we lived across from a popular public pool on a tiny street, so parking was premium. We had issues with people parking across our driveway, but we were close with the pool owner and would get him to ask over the loudspeakers, and whoever parked the car would come over, apologize to us, and move.

But one day after coming home from school, I saw somebody had the audacity to not park in our driveway but inside our garage. My dad was dumbfounded. We went over to make the usual announcement. Then this woman in her 30s came stomping over in a huff and said she would fix it when she had finished her exercise routine. So, my dad just parked behind her, and we went out for dinner for a few hours.

She was mad, but she didn’t learn her lesson and kept doing it two to four times a month! Eventually, my dad stopped caring about parking her in and let her out at his leisure. It wasn’t our problem just hers. She even called officers on us. They just told her not to park on private property and then wrote her a citation. Then one morning, she had the gall to park us in our own driveway. Dad had had enough.

He made sure she was doing her laps, grabbed a coat hanger, jimmied the door open, dismantled the passenger seat, and left it on the curb by the pool exit. He then waited on our front deck, sipping his tea as she came out of the pool to get her car. She walked by the passenger seat without a second glance. Scowling at him as she got in her car, she did a double-take as she went to put her bag down.

She freaked out, realizing that my dad had had access to her car the whole time. She ran over, grabbed her seat, put it in the trunk, and drove off. We never heard from her again.

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6. The Bride Wore Blue

Last summer I was at a cousin’s wedding. His bride and her family had been close with ours since before I was born, and the couple had known each other since they were toddlers, so it was a particularly exciting event for both sides of the family. However, after the ceremony was over and the party had only just started, one of the bridesmaids decided to announce her own engagement.

The attention was immediately taken away from the newlyweds and brought to the bridesmaid (who I’ll call Sarah) and her equally-smug fiancé. My cousin’s wife (I’ll call her Emma) didn’t make a scene or utter a single negative word about Sarah. She looked like she was on the verge of tears, but she kept grinning and acted very happy for the other couple.

This was unusual, as Emma is typically quite confrontational and speaks her mind no matter the consequences. This was a warning sign. Sarah later picked Emma to be the maid of honor at her own wedding, which took place last weekend. I wasn’t there for it, but my cousin sent me some of the best bits on snapchat and explained the whole situation. This is where the fun begins.

Emma’s two much-younger sisters were the flower girls at Sarah’s wedding. At the very last moment, Emma switched out the white petals in their baskets to blue ones she had secretly brought with her. She told her sisters not to say anything about it or let the bride see them until it was time to scatter them down the aisle. Sarah looked very confused upon seeing the blue petals (which didn’t coordinate whatsoever with her theme), but of course she didn’t say anything about it in the moment.

Most of Sarah’s other bridesmaids were also Emma’s friends, had attended Emma’s wedding, and were in on Emma’s scheme. At the reception, Emma’s sisters and the other bridesmaids were tight-lipped when Sarah began demanding to know why there were blue petals. The wedding planner ended up getting a lot of flack for not checking the flower girls’ baskets before they walked down the aisle.

Finally, it was time for the speeches. The speeches took place in front of a massive screen, displaying a loop of photos with Sarah and her husband, which had been compiled by Emma. Emma took the remote that controlled the presentation screen and at first she showed some pre-approved humorous photos of Sarah with Emma and other friends to facilitate a couple of light-hearted jokes.

Then, at the very end, Emma said to Sarah that she must be wondering why there were blue petals instead of the white ones originally planned. That was when Emma displayed the last slide from her presentation, and jaws dropped. Emma announced in front of everyone that she was five months pregnant, and that she’d just discovered the baby was a boy, hence the blue petals. The last slide? Her ultrasound picture.

There were shocked yells and gasps, Sarah had a fit, but those involved in the scheme cheered so loudly that I sincerely regret watching the Snapchat recordings with headphones. Apparently, Sarah had been very nasty to her bridesmaids before, driving several of them away and forcing the others to pay ridiculous amounts of money for dresses.

Emma and my cousin were eventually thrown out of the party, but they were all smiles. Sarah’s fuming mother went to confront her outside, and Emma retorted with, “Gentle, gentle! I’m pregnant!” I reckon Sarah doesn’t speak to the majority of those bridesmaids anymore.

yazdon

7. Family Feud

This happened about five years ago. My Grandma was getting old, late 80s/early 90s. She had one wish, to not pass in a senior home. Easily done as my Grandpa sold some assets way back when, then invested the money and let it ride for 30+ years; he never touched it and collected a pension. Way back when my Grandpa passed (about 10 years before this), my Grandma appointed my dad, this awful aunt and my uncle as the Trustees of the trust.

Basically the trusted advisors for her and her care for the foreseeable future. All was well in the beginning, then my dad (Willy) moved further away and couldn’t take care of the day-to-day upkeep as the Trustee and to see that my grandma was ok. My aunt (Rebecca) told her that she and my uncle (Fred, who lived in Arizona) could take over and all would be fine. It was fine for a while.

A few times my dad went back to visit and noticed my Grandma didn’t always have overnight care, or that her mail wasn’t picked up and the driveway wasn’t plowed. She also lost her cable TV and newspaper subscription. My dad figured it just lapsed, so he had the services put back on. My dad also noticed my Grandma was eating moldy food at times because her truck was sold and she had no transportation.

She basically just chilled at the house alone and did crossword puzzles. The craziest part of this is that my aunt only lived two miles from my Grandma, but my Grandma told my dad she saw Aunt Rebecca once a week on Saturday for about one hour. As with the elderly and age, my Grandma eventually passed. She did get her wish and was able to go in her own home.

Upon her passing, things started to get real interesting. Once the probate lawyer got her children (my dad, aunt, uncle and another estranged aunt, Becky) around the table, some shady business started to come out. My Aunt Rebecca asked that everyone just forgo any audit or paperwork and they just sell the house (for around $400K), and divide up the remaining account balance of roughly $400K.

So just signing on the line, each sibling was to get a check for $200K, not too bad of an inheritance. My dad, however, thought that was somewhat a little rushed. He said at the time that he wanted to wait because my Grandma’s house was easily in the $600K range based on size and location. My aunt exploded in his face, cursing at him and calling him all kinds of names because he was unwilling to sign the assets then and there.

She basically wanted a quick close while everyone looked the other way. My dad ended up leaving the room after the screaming and the deal wasn’t signed that day. It took nearly six months before another appointment and they were all back at the table. The thing is though, when you are a Trustee and the person passes, the funds and access to financial accounts are all under heavy scrutiny until all beneficiaries are made aware and sign the final papers.

At the next meeting, my dad went in there with no intention to sign the deal. He got his brother (my uncle Fred) to agree that they audit the entire account(s) going back five years. When they demanded this again at the meeting with the lawyer, my aunt ended up arguing that a forensic audit would cost $5K and it’s a waste, like what difference does it make?

Two beneficiaries requested it, though, so it was what was going to happen. The audit report showed up about three months later. Here is where it gets really good. My dad began looking over the audit report and saw it was full of holes, like excessive monthly food costs for a 90-year-old lady. Payments made for car services for a car my grandma no longer had.

Many different things in there that just didn’t add up. My dad asked me to give the audit a second look, so I spent a Saturday night going over it, and here is some crazy stuff I found (and alerted my dad about): Costco monthly food costs of $1,100-$2,000 for the last four years. Telephone bills for sixe cell phones (Grandma had a home phone only).

Gasoline for a truck my grandma didn’t have for like four years, and easily $400/month. House repairs paid to my aunt’s husband who owned a construction business. Some of the house repairs were like $16K for a new roof, new garage doors, home security system which she didn’t have, etc., and all a inflated prices. Grandma paid for my aunt to go to Europe twice on vacation.

My grandma was paying my estranged Aunt Becky a stipend of $2K a month for the last five years, as well as her deadbeat son for $2,500. Every month they were paid. All grandkids were to be paid a lump sum of $10K upon their 30th birthday as that is when the $50 check from Grandma stopped for all grandkids. Guess who was paid out? Rebecca’s kids and my estranged aunt’s kids, but not me or my siblings.

My grandma gave loans to my Aunt Rebecca for her husband’s construction business in return for equity in the company, which amounted to nothing. These loans totaled about $200K over three years, right around when the housing bust happened. They also sold her assets like jewelry and what not for cash, because some big ticket items simply vanished from her house.

Armed with all this, the next probate meeting was interesting. In the time between my Grandma’s passing and the third probate meeting, my aunt’s construction business filed for bankruptcy so that $200K in equity grandma had simply vanished. The probate lawyer was also somewhat concerned and makes it obvious that this was a breach of fiduciary duty, where my aunt could actually get real prison time.

After this, the negotiations were much more favorable. My aunt got nothing, literally zero, my other aunt only received $25K after all the stipend payments. My father and uncle shared the rest after all grandkids received the $10K payout. The house sold to the first offer for $520K. That was the regular revenge for the treacherous witch who ripped off Grandma and had her eating moldy food. Here is the professional revenge.

My aunt probably felt pretty bad that she couldn’t supplement her lifestyle with Grandma’s money anymore, but that was the least of her worries. Since she tried to rip me off for $10K, I took it personally. I don’t care how tough you are, the IRS is the scariest thing that can happen to a person. Nobody wants to have their money forcibly removed.

I did a little research, photocopied my documents, had them notarized and sent off the info to the IRS. I felt like it went nowhere, then maybe 18 months later I was notified and asked to come to the IRS building for an appointment in my city. The agent went over all the details. Basically, what they found in their research, and then they asked for a sworn statement.

It turns out my aunt didn’t declare something like $1.2M in additional income over five years, and as such she owed the IRS around $420K plus penalties. There was no way she was going to pay that on a teachers’ pension and after her husband bankrupted his business. Her house was sold, her vehicles sold, and they left the state. Now my aunt and uncle live in a depressing desert town.

The IRS then paid me around $60K about three months after the appointment. She should have paid that $10K.

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8. Rinse And Repeat

My stepmom was evil. She put two young girls, my sister and me, on diets because we were “fat.” I tolerated her because my mom was out on the road working and really needed a place for us to stay and had to leave us with my sister’s father. And one day, I snapped. At 12-years-old, I had an idea to mess with my stepmom. Once a week, my stepmom used an expensive conditioning treatment on her hair.

She was 56-years-old and used anything to preserve her youth. I was at my mom’s for the weekend and snatched a bottle of liquid hair remover. When I got back, I dumped out half of her fancy conditioner and then filled the bottle with remover. After giving it a good shake, I put it back. Then I waited. She would use the treatment at the same time each week and soak in the bath for about 30 minutes.

The bottle only called for 15 minutes. She got out of the tub to take a shower. When she stepped out, almost all of her fancy permed hair was falling off her head.

Gothichu

9. Cheaters Never Prosper

When I got divorced—my alcoholic wife of 18 years had started another affair, this time with her addictions counsellor—my lawyer and I laid a trap for them. Just in case you don’t know, intimate relations between a counselor and patient are very frowned upon by the regulatory bodies. And I was more than angry after putting her through rehab ($25k, which I didn’t have to do) only to have her fall back into her old behavior.

Shortly before the divorce was finalized, I filed a complaint with the State body licensing health professions. Knowing they were in some peril because of their unprofessional relationship (I had already gotten him fired from a major teaching hospital), she had backed off her exorbitant demands. I paid her a very modest settlement, kept the house, got custody of the three tweenage kids, plus got child support.

Her lawyer naturally included a clause in the divorce where I had to agree to not say anything negative about her lover and their relationship. But the lawyer messed up and never asked if I had already filed charges and thus didn’t require me to rescind them. Her lawyer had assumed I was just bad mouthing them to neighbors and friends, and it never occurred to the lawyer that we were doing much more. But we were doing much more.

When the Board of Health Professions responded to my complaint shortly after the divorce was finalized, I told them that it would take a subpoena to get me to testify, since a subpoena trumps an agreement in a divorce settlement. They were happy to oblige. They stripped his license and placed him on a register of sanctioned health professionals.

He never worked again. They were broke in a handful of years and she divorced him when the money ran out. Oh, and the frosting on the cake was that his wife and I traded notes, notably hotel receipts from the time of their affair, that helped each of us in our respective divorces. In the end, justice was very much served.

ceb20816

10. Sense My Wrath

In high school, a guy in my grade always went out of his way to annoy me, even hooking up with my girlfriend. Wanting revenge, I decided to poop in a bottle and then let it fester for a month. It got so bad that when I unscrewed the cap, it fizzed. I poured that into his car’s air conditioner filter on a hot summer day. I watched him get into his car and turn it on.

As soon as he did, he turned up his AC and threw up all over himself and the car.

alyaz

11. A Well-Baked Plan

I used to buy small treat bags of gourmet cookies from a local bakery a few years ago. I would eat maybe one a day, but they were a treat for me. Back then, my husband and I had a retail store and a few friends who would hang out at the store, since it was kind of a lounge too. Well, my husband and our friends would just help themselves.

But they had no self-control, and they wouldn’t even ask for some. I would buy the bag of cookies for me, and they’d be gone the next day. I would try to hide them but couldn’t. So, I bagged up a bunch of dog treats that the local pet food store had that looked very, very close to cookies. They were all about the same size as the ones I bought from the bakery.

I placed them where all the guys could see them and waited for the fun. Yep, they tried them…asked if they were a bad batch or maybe the bakery missed an ingredient or two in the dough. I waited until they tried to eat more than three each, then told them they were dog treats. They never touched my cookies again.

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12. Fine And Sandy

In 1992, I was in second grade. Every day at recess, my friends and I built these intricate sandcastles. When recess ended, the fourth graders came running outside after finishing their lunch. And every single day, one of them came flying into the sandbox with the only goal of kicking down our feat of sand engineering. This happened for weeks.

So, my group of second graders and I found cinder blocks near the woods close to the playground. We stacked two and covered them with sand. After, we took the time to make the structure look like any one of our usual sandcastles. It was pretty demented—and so were the consequences. The fourth graders came out, and one ended up with a broken foot.

wphillip560

13. All That Glitters

I work for a construction company and we do remodeling on homes. We have a rule here that we get to keep anything we find hidden behind the walls. We hired this guy (we really needed a worker badly) who was a total jerk from day one. I’ve been working for this company for five years and this guy has only been doing construction for one year after he got fired from his accounting job.

Anyways, he would always make fun of my clothes and my accent, and one day he went too far by telling my boss about my private Instagram account pictures. He got on my phone and looked through my Instagram page and showed my boss pictures of me with weed. Joke’s on him; my boss is my friend from eight years ago and this wasn’t a surprise to him.

Still, I was so mad that he violated my privacy—so I made a plan to screw him right over. He was the kind of guy who would always come in late and complain that trains or traffic is why he was always late. One day, I overheard him saying that if he won the lottery he would quit this job for not getting the “respect” he deserves.

You know, because you have to earn your respect here. So a few days later, I bought some fake gold coins online and put them in a metal box I found at the antique store. Then I waited for a chance to hide it in a wall. Luckily, I did not have to wait long. The day he found the coins, it seemed like it was his best day ever.

The first thing he did when he opened the box was call my boss a loser and quit immediately on the spot. He said, “screw this place, I’m rich.” Little did he know, that was the best day of my life. After he quit, my boss told us that he was going to fire him anyways for always showing up late…I wish I could see the look on his face when he finds out the gold coins are fake. Best $40 I spent in my entire life.

lrze403

14. Outing Performance

In college, I lived in “The Gay House” with five other guys in a six-bedroom house. One fall afternoon, I came home from class to find my favorite roommate Josh crying in the kitchen. He had just found out something earth-shattering: His boyfriend Kevin was living a double life. They’d been dating for three months. Kevin was a nice, cute guy.

He came to our house parties and movie nights, and we all liked him enough. He told us he was closeted because his filthy rich parents would cut him off if he came out like his older brother. Even though most of the house was fully out, we respected him and were sympathetic to his situation. We lived in the Bible Belt.

“Kevin” wasn’t even his real name. It was Brad. He was engaged to a cheerleader, and his best friends were a group of jerks who had no idea he was queer. Usually, I could have forgiven him as I’d forgiven worse, but he was needlessly cruel to Josh when he decided to break up with him. He laughed at Josh the whole time.

He said he was only using him for his body and he couldn’t stand being with his gay friends and to never call him again. That lying jerk preyed on my friend and actually enjoyed using and hurting him. I decided then that he needed to be confronted. As a tall guy at 6’6 and 220 pounds, I always took my size for granted.

People never tried me when I was in drag despite living in the Bible belt. I went with Josh to confront “Kevin,” but as we walked up to his apartment, it was clear that he was hosting a party, which wouldn’t have been the best time for us to confront him. But that was the moment when my stroke of evil genius kicked in.

We went back home and came up with a plan. Josh had several of “Kevin’s” naughty pictures as well as his clothes. While one roommate was photocopying the pictures, another was creating a website with a giant humiliating picture of him and was printing out “invitations” to the site. I was dressing in drag and got ready.

I wore an old prom dress with blue sequins that were falling off. It cut off right below my underwear, making the whole outfit especially naughty. The ratty blonde wig was from an old costume, and I had six-inch heels size 16 that I found at a sketchy-looking store a few weeks before. I painted myself with way too much makeup but kept my stubble and my leg hair.

We stuffed his clothes, the invitations, and the printed pictures into a large purse, and I went off for the party. But I made one stop at the store to buy a $20 fake engagement ring. I think I deserve an Oscar for my performance that night. His face looked priceless as a seven-foot drag queen barged into his apartment screaming and crying.

The whole place froze as I stormed past everyone into the kitchen to find him and his fiancé. They were by the back door staring in utter shock. I was sure he didn’t recognize me. I sobbed and begged him to come back to me. I described everything I loved about him including all his marks near his junk. My make-up smeared tears turned angry as I started detailing all his secret kinks.

Then finally, his fiancé started questioning me. At that point, I pulled his clothes out of the purse and threw them at him. She immediately recognized them. Then I pulled out the pictures and handed them to her before I burst into uncontrollable sobbing and stormed out of the kitchen and through the living room partiers and toward the front door.

At the door, I stopped, took a long swig from the bottle I brought, and threw a giant stack of “party” invitations all over the place. They had the worst picture of all—him making the “sexy face,” wearing the most scandalous undergarments. The invitation was to some weird website my roommate created to out “Kevin.” The site included a forum for other people to share ways he lied to them and discuss how much they hated him. Before I left, I did a dramatic final spin.

I then removed and held up the fake ring for everyone to see. I pointed to the other side of the apartment at his fiancé and said, “I see he gave you one of these too!” I threw it on the yard, stormed out, and went home. Later, the roommates made sure to put a website invitation on every car in his apartment complex. Nobody in the gay community saw or heard from that guy again.

Though there were several rumors including one that said he transferred to a shittier school far away.

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15. Sort Out Your Priorities

I am a 5’4″ tall male who looks less muscular than I am. I was in line for priority boarding and it had just started when the woman behind me said “Excuse me, this is for priority boarding. You need to wait with everyone else.” I ignored her and presented my boarding pass with my active duty ID. My only revenge was when the attendant said “Thank you for your service.”

I turned to the woman behind me, grinned, and said “thanks!” Before boarding.

slytherinpoet

16. Touchy Subject

I grew up in a suburb where I was the only minority at school. One girl in my class always made rude comments about me like how I wasn’t as pretty because I was brown. But it really hurt me when we were playing tag and she insisted that I had to be “it” because I looked “dirty” with my skin color. She’d crossed a line. I overheard her bragging about getting straight A’s and instantly had a stroke of genius.

For the rest of the year, I would hand in my homework right after her to take hers and throw it away in the washroom. I never got caught, and she ended up getting a D. I smirked when she didn’t get a ribbon at the end of the year.

DoctorChick

17. Cooking With Gas

Several years ago, I lived in the northwest coast of Puerto Rico. It’s a very relaxed area, with tons of good restaurants and lots of green space. My apartment was on a cliff, not far from the water. The electric infrastructure was a bit old, so when it was rainy season, we’d lose power for a few hours at a time. Not a big deal—I had a gasoline generator.

Enter a new neighbor. He lived two doors down from me, and drove an amazing custom Chevy van from the 70s. All it needed was an epic airbrushed Wizard on the side. Sadly though, that’s where anything good about him ended. I caught him taking the gas out of an orange jug I’d leave outside in case the generator ran out. Although I saw him do it, and called him out on it, he denied it and played stupid.

So after the second time, I took all of the gas in the jug, filled the generator with it, and put the rest in my car. I then went to the nearest gas station that had diesel and filled it up with diesel. A few days later, I am woken up by a tow truck backing up to pick up his now disabled van. I looked out the window and you could see the anger on his face. He moved out the next month, and from what I gathered from talking to people in the community, he was a general piece of trash human and what happened to him was deserved.

elRobRex

18. Eyeing The Prize

On April fool’s day when I was seven and my sister was five, I had a master plan that involved Legos. We played with those tiny bricks for hours. Sometimes we built things. Sometimes we destroyed things. Sometimes our arguments dissolved into us throwing Legos at each other. We’d already been in trouble the day before for it.

My mom told us that we could take an eye out. So, since my little sister could scream or cry in an instant, I took a long brick, slid it between my fingers, then covered my eye with my hand. My sister said it looked like it was really in my eye, so she screamed for our mom. Then I started screaming. My mom rushed over. She tried pulling my hand away to check on it, but I kept my hand on my eye a few seconds longer.

I caught my sister’s eye, and after she nodded, I whipped my hand away, and we both yelled, “April Fool’s Day!” Before we could finish saying “day,” my mom smacked us both with one hand across the cheek with just one move.

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19. You Are What You Eat

A couple of things about me that made it really suck to have a food thief: I have a lot of food allergies, so I can’t just get lunch at the cafeteria or at a nearby restaurant. I have a new baby, who I’m breastfeeding, and who I pump for when I’m at work. You know how hungry pregnant people are? Yeah, the caloric requirement for breastfeeding is 100-200 calories higher. I am always hungry.

Because I have a new baby, half the time I don’t manage to show up at work with a lunch. I either run out of time to pack one, or if I did remember, I leave it on the counter. My solution to all of this was to leave lots of non-perishable snacks in my office. And also a lot of candy, because I also have a three-year-old and therefore work is the only place I can shovel Skittles into my mouth without a little hand extending into my field of vision and a little voice saying “pwease?”

These were snacks that were specifically free of my allergens. Some were also specialty foods because of this. The type of specialty food that just doesn’t taste as good as food that contains the allergen, and also costs twice as much. Because I’m not getting a lot of sleep right now, I deserve nice things. So, because I’m not getting a lot of sleep right now, when I first came back from maternity leave, assembled my snack hoard, and started having things go missing, I genuinely thought I was just losing my mind.

Boxes of candy were running out faster than I thought I was eating them. I’d come in in the morning and things wouldn’t be where I’d left them. At one point, I brought a bag of chips to work, folded the rim of the bag down so I wasn’t plunging my arm elbow-deep into a grease pit, and then put a bag clip on it when I went home. When I came in the next morning the bag was unrolled and re-clipped.

I went “Wow, I must be more tired than I thought,” rolled the bag back down, and the next morning it was unrolled again. Just little things like that, almost every day, that made me go “Wow, the post-baby brain is worse than I thought!” And then. And then! Then I got the flu. I got sick, and I was out for a whole week. Left behind at the office was an almost-full box of Enjoy Life cookies, which are not enjoyable but are free of all major allergens, and are also $5 a box for, like, 12 sad little sand pies with some cinnamon on top.

I ate one row of these cookies, and then I was out of the office for a week. For one week, I was not eating any of my snack hoard. But someone else was. Because I came back twork, opened my box of cookies, and found one. There was one single, solitary cookie left. And, on further examination, the one box of candy that had been opened was nowhere to be found, and on top of that the thief had done me the courtesy of opening a new box for me, except that they actually followed the “push here to open” instructions instead of just ripping one end of the box open like I do.

The combination of these two things—the sheer freaking audacity it takes to open a new box so you can continue taking from someone, on top of the consumption of almost a whole box specialty cookies that aren’t even GOOD—enraged me enough that, after going to my boss and getting some vague promises about checking if the security cameras in my wing of the building are functional or not (what??) I went straight to Amazon and ordered myself a nanny cam.

Not for my baby. For my snack hoard. Conveniently, it arrived the day before Valentine’s day. I set it up on top of a file cabinet looking down at my desk. On the desk, I laid out a fantastic spread of snacks. I got all my thief’s favorites, and then I took it one step further. I bought myself a Valentine heart, broke the seal to make it more inviting, and left it out on my desk.

The next morning, I came in to some very obvious snack carnage. My thief had slowly been getting more brazen (again, who OPENS a new box of something?? And opens it DIFFERENTLY than the person they are taking from??) but this was just on another level. Individually wrapped things had been dumped out of their boxes. Bits of packaging had been thrown away. And, yup; they’d eaten some of the Valentine candy.

For shame, office thief! Don’t you know that’s from someone who loves me?? I played back the video. All was quiet throughout most of the evening, and I was just watching the shadows lengthen as the sun slowly set through the hallway window. And then! Shortly before midnight! The night janitor arrived! And went right ahead and took a 12-minute break in my office, sitting in my chair, eating my food.

I started taking screenshots. I got him shoveling candy into his mouth with full palm-to-lips intensity. Pouring things out onto the desk to pick his favorite flavors. Not even bothering to put them back where he found them. And yes. Eating my Valentine’s candy. Screenshots went directly to my boss in an email. I went directly to my boss’s door to hover and grin and ask if he’d read my email.

And I got assurances of a strongly worded email to the cleaning company and the barring of this particular employee from our place of business. I was also, tactfully, asked to please take my unauthorized spy camera home, which I did. I thought this was over, but it wasn’t. One day, the girl who works the concession stand dropped by to thank me. Apparently the food thief would start his shift just as she was closing down for the night, and would try to get free coffee in that “creepy guy” way.

And then one of the reception staff came by with the same sentiments. I’d never met the guy face-to-face, but apparently, as a woman, it was not a fun experience to have. I’d shown my screenshots to a few co-workers and word had spread fast. I worked an earlier shift, so I didn’t recognize him, but people whose shifts overlapped with his did.

I hadn’t told my husband about what I’d done because when I came home raging about the blatant theft that had gone on while I’d been sick, his only response had been “You really shouldn’t be leaving food at work, then.” But, when I came home with the nanny cam and explained where and why I’d gotten it, his reaction surprised me.

“You know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you stand up for yourself. I’m proud of you.” Y’know what? I’m proud of me too!

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20. Chilly Comeback

I was sharing a dorm in college with two of my best friends from high school. I love them like brothers, but we could be jerks to one another. Unfortunately, Chris crossed a line and unleashed the fury within me when he popped the washroom lock then snapped a polaroid picture of me while I was using the john one night. He then tossed the picture out the window of our 13th-floor form for anybody to find.

In the days that followed, I’d learned to pop the lock on our shower door and also set about getting several pitchers of water to nearly freezing temperatures, just cold enough that ice started to form on the surface. I bided my time. I was gonna get him back, and it was gonna be glorious. Eventually, Chris went to take one of his weekly “spa showers” where he would crank the hot water on full and just sit under it for an hour.

I waited for him to hit the hottest temperature then rallied the rest of my dormmates, handed out pitchers of ice water, quietly popped the lock, and opened the door to the shower. In hindsight, we probably could have caused serious harm by dumping ice water on him when he was as hot as he was, but at the time, hearing him scream like a little girl and fall in the shower was well worth it.

Sageypie

21. Yeah, That’s Not How This Works

We don’t own a car and live at the end of a cul-de-sac, and I have people use my driveway all the time to turn around. It’s not a huge deal to me, a little annoying when they compact the snow and it’s harder to shovel, but whatever. One of my neighbors had a ride service come pick up their child every day. The van would park in my spot and begin honking at like 8 am (I worked nights at the time).

Half the time he’d be half parked on my grass. I told my neighbor that I don’t overly mind my spot being used, but not if the guy is going to honk like that every morning and especially not if he’s going to drive over what little lawn I have every time. She spoke with him, he ignored it. I spoke with him and got “what’s your problem man, it’s not like you’re using it.”

To which I repeated that I don’t mind him using it if he stays off my grass and doesn’t honk every morning. Apparently suggesting he wait until the kid notices he’s there or, god forbid, he have to drag his butt out of the car to knock on a door was just ridiculous and inhumane of me. So I left a recycle bin at the foot of my driveway. He just ran over it.

I called the dispatch for the ride service and was told they are sub contractors and technically self-employed but they will pass along the message. I wake up the next day to pounding on my door. Dude is ANGRY. Him: “How dare you call my boss you stupid piece of trash! What is wrong with you? Me: “Well it’s quite simple, you were told not to use my driveway if you were going drive on my lawn and wake me up every morning. Now get off my doorstep.”

Him: “I’ll sue you if I lose my job because of you.” Me: “You’ve been warned. Don’t trespass on my driveway or property again!” Dude storms off in a huff spouting curses. So this happened on a Thursday, the kids had a PD day the next day, and it’s supposed to be one of those delightful Canadian weekends where it drops to like -40 Celsius.

For my American friends, -40 is where Celsius and Fahrenheit meet up, so it’s freaking cold. So that night, I grabbed one of my more beat up plastic garbage bins, made sure to plug all the holes with a generous amount of duct tape, stuck a sign on it that read, “private property, driveway not for public use” and proceeded to fill it to the brim with water.

Now, before anyone thinks I’m a jerk willing to potentially endanger the other kids in the car, I’d like to point out that my neighbor’s kid is the first to be picked up, so it’s just him in the car. Queue Monday morning. He sees the garbage can, backs up a bit more, and defiantly charges the can as if to teach me a lesson. He then proceeds to cause some pretty serious damage to the front end of his car. Dude gets out fuming, calls the authorities and comes pounding on my door, screaming about how I’m going to buy him a new car and that I’m about to go to the slammer.

Officer: “So let me make sure I understand this situation. He asked you not to park here if you couldn’t refrain from honking, then warned you not to park here and put up a barrier. Now you expect him to be charged and pay for damages you caused yourself to your vehicle in an attempt to destroy his own personal property?” I will never forget the look on his face when the officer said, “Yeah, that’s not how this works.”

He then turned to me and asked if I wanted to pursue charges for him damaging my personal property. I just gave him the biggest grin I could muster and said, “Nah, I think we’re good.” I then went back inside to enjoy a morning coffee while watching him from my kitchen window as he paced back and forth in the cold waiting for a tow truck and having to call the company he worked for to explain why they needed to send out another driver to complete his route.

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22. Lap It Up

When I was in high school, I always had a soda with me in my physics class. And every day, the kid behind me waited for me to stand so he could grab and chug half of it as fast as possible. I came up with perfect revenge. One day, I filled my empty bottle with white vinegar. Then, I put it in my backpack so I could bring it to class the next day.

As usual, I wandered off when I knew he was watching. And he grabbed it and started to chug it. As soon as he did, he ran to the sink and threw up. I laughed so hard, especially when he had to explain why he threw up to the teacher. And my soda stayed untouched for the rest of the semester.

Jope7478

23. Dad Of The Year

So, my daughter, who was about eight at the time, was REALLY into Minecraft, as most kids are these days. She was also desperately wanting to join the YouTube/Let’s Play culture, so I had installed some screen recording software that would let her make videos of the games she was playing so she could later upload them to YouTube.

Anyways, one day I’m minding my own business when I hear her quietly sniffling over on the computer. I asked her what was wrong, but she didn’t want to tell me so I let it go, but decided to keep on eye on her. A few minutes later I discovered what was happening. Someone was harassing not only her, but also all the other kids playing on whatever server she was on.

This kid was saying stuff about how he was going to harm my eight-year-old daughter (she told him how old she was hoping he would stop), how he was going to hack into her IP and take her information, swearing profusely (remember, this is a game for kids), etc etc. By this time I had gotten my fiancée involved, and she was also obviously quite upset at what this kid was doing.

We then realized that our daughter had been recording the entire incident, and a plan began to form. I started by googling the kid’s username. There were several hits immediately, the most interesting of which involved a page where he was publicly applying to be a mod for a server on Minecraft. I was able to learn a lot about this little idiot.

He claimed to be 15, likes hockey, used to live in Toronto but now lives in Florida. But the big discovery was easily his Skype contact info; it was literally firstname.lastname. I know your name now, you jerk. So I head over to Facebook and search for the name. Nothing. Hmmmm. On a hunch, I searched for just the last name, while narrowing my results to only the state of Florida.

Several dozen hits. Hmmm. So I have to start combing through each one, until I find what I was looking for: A middle-aged man with the same last name, whose profile indicates he was born in Toronto and now lives in Florida. I FOUND YOUR DAD, YOU LITTLE JERK. So I sent him a message on Facebook, asking if he had a son named firstname who goes by his username on Minecraft.

Dad confirmed I had the right guy. So my fiancée begins telling the dad everything that his son was saying to my daughter, and we sent him the recorded video as proof. Radio silence for a few days. Then we got the message back. This jerk had his computer taken away from him for the entire summer. He had also been lying about his age; he was only 11, I think.

His parents were livid with him, and he surely hated the next few months of his life. No one screws with my daughter.

DrRaveNinja

24. The Smell Of The Ball

In high school, my friend David’s girlfriend cheated on him. But she scratched the car he worked hard for and broke his laptop after he found out. A week later, she threw a big raging party that got a bit out of control. Earlier that day, David and I were with four of our friends eating at Taco Bell and began scheming. We discussed holding in our bowels until the party and releasing them all over her house.

At first, it was all a joke, but the more we talked, the more serious we were about going through with it. David didn’t join us as that would’ve risked us from getting into the party. He did contribute his bowels in a plastic bag. I hid the bag under my shirt and put it behind the fridge. Brett and I upper decked, went in the tank, the two toilets on the main floor. It was nasty.

Matt brought pliers to pull up a corner of the carpet in a bedroom and went there. We’re not sure whose bedroom it was. Justin was more adventurous than the rest of us. He hopped into the small utility closet with the central air conditioner and went in there. He told us that he was able to squirt his fudge onto the air filter. The effect of wafting poop was instant and moved the party to the backyard.

I’m not sure our plan was genius, but it was evil and for our friend. It felt good.

jamesey10

25. Droning On And On

About six or seven months ago, my neighbor got a drone. I don’t mind people having hobbies, but for some reason he insisted on flying like the biggest jerk possible. He would hover in front of other houses and windows, try to “race” cars going down the road, and worst of all he had a habit of flying his drone in my fenced backyard.

He would start buzzing over my dog, diving low just over my dog’s head before circling around to do it again. My dog isn’t small, he’s about 70lbs and a Malamute, but the drone terrified him, and I was worried what would happen if it hit him. I asked my neighbor several times to please not fly in my yard and explained that it was scaring my dog. His answer made my blood boil.

He basically told me to get lost and laughed in my face. When it still continued, I called the authorities. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much they could do other than ask him to please not fly over my house and property. Finally, in late December it happened—my dog got tired of his torments and managed to catch the drone right as it was diving towards him.

He shredded the drone, and the thing was just a jumbled mess of wires and plastic. Neighbor was ANGRY. He stormed over to my house swearing and threatening me, which I ignored. A week later, I got a summons to small claims court. He wanted $900 for the cost of his drone and an additional $300 for supposedly denying him access to his property.

See, the drone sat in my yard for a couple hours before it was retrieved. Screw that. He could have hurt my dog. I don’t have kids or a girlfriend, I just have my dog who is my best friend for the past seven years. That dog has moved with me three times, was there when I graduated college, saw me buy my first house and my first new car.

I love my dog. But turns out, him suing me was the best thing to ever happen. When we got to small claims court, the judge basically laughed away his claims that I had intentionally trained my dog to attack his drone. But little did he know I was prepared. I had dozens of photos of my yard showing it was impossible for him to “accidentally” fly that low to my dog.

I also had videos of him harassing my dog in the past, and I had saved all my medical bills from taking my dog to the vet. $700 for an X-ray? Check. Another $250 to sedate him during? Why not, don’t want him being uncomfortable. Full dental exam with tooth cleaning/repair? $400. Then there was the cost of anti-anxiety meds and a secondary check-up, wet food for a week in case his teeth were hurt, and extra just for good measure.

In the end, the jerk ended up owing me almost $2,000, and now is being investigated by the FAA for not having a registered drone and violating several regulations concerning drone flight, too near an airport, too close to other people, out of sight of operator, and waaay above the maximum altitude. Enjoy never being allowed to fly drones again, buddy.

DreaDrone999

26. Sweet Release

I lived in a former frat house mansion turned boarding house. So, the kitchen, bathrooms, and entertainment rooms are shared between 20 people. Everyone in the house knew who was eating everyone else’s food, but we couldn’t prove it. So, we baked brownies with a chocolate laxative after work one Friday and left a note. After putting it in the fridge, we left for the weekend.

On Sunday night, we found a third of our brownies eaten and no toilet paper in sight. Everyone thought it was hilarious. Everyone but the person eating all our food. He left a passive-aggressive note that said he was sick of people taking other people’s food too.

DarrenEdwards

27. Home Sweet Hospital

As a nurse, we had this god-awful patient who made all our lives a nightmare. Needed pain meds on the dot, needed to smoke every half hour, sat on the call light all freaking day. This person was also possibly the rudest human being I’ve ever met. Treated us horribly. So it finally came time for discharge, and this patient decided to come up with a whole bunch of new medical problems.

“I have chest pain! I have nausea! One side of my body feels numb!” So, being the very skilled and rational nurse I am, I asked the doctor for a whole new set of orders. First, I asked for lab draws every three hours (meaning needles every three hours) to check cardiac markers. Then I asked that the patient get “nothing by mouth” status while we did tests. This person couldn’t go an hour without eating something. Oh, but it gets better.

For the numbness, I requested he be placed on strict bedrest for 24 hrs, which meant no more going downstairs to smoke. I then explained this all to the patient, and he says, “Oh! I Just wanted to stay another night. I ain’t doing any of that! I feel fine, just give me my friggin’ papers!” I had him out the door in an hour.

andybent25

28. Ordered Up

I was working at a pizza place with a worthless, useless, good-for-nothing manager. We did not get along with each other well. He was a jerk and probably didn’t like me because everyone else loved me. Well, his biggest peeve was when we left pizza boxes opened on the cutting table before the pizza came out of the oven.

Instead, he wanted us to wait until the pizza was finished, taken out, cut, and then put into the box, which took much longer. One busy night, it was me, another co-worker, and the delivery driver. We were going crazy keeping up with all of the orders happening at once. We had to answer phones while we made the pizzas. The jerk manager sat in the office for the whole rush.

There was a one-way mirror with a full view of the pizza-cutting area. So, to get his attention, I started pulling down and opening boxes on the cutting table. I wanted him to come out running and yelling so the owner would hopefully notice. It worked like a charm. He came out shouting about how I wasn’t doing my job right and whatever else made him mad.

Already frustrated and busy, I started yelling back at him. The owner came out from the back and brought us to his office. I explained how the manager hadn’t been helping and I’d worked there long enough to know what I was doing. The owner looked at the manager and told him that if I quit, he was fired. But that wasn’t the best part.

Then he asked me when I was turning 18. I asked him why, and he told me that was when he wanted to promote me to assistant manager. The jerk manager switched stores shortly after.

StarVixen

29. Clean Game

We had a teacher in grade school that was germophobic. We didn’t really like her, so I came up with a plan. She was always taking things away from us if we played with them in class. I found a bouncy ball and rubbed it in the bottom of the urinal. I brought it to class, wrapped in a piece of paper, and played with it on my desk. Just as I’d thought, she came over and took the ball.

I almost broke into laughter but held it in. Knowing that she also read all the notes people passed in class, I wrote a note and blatantly passed it to someone in front of her. She picked it up and read, “the ball you just took was in the urinal.” She left the room.

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30. Moms Gone Mad

So this happened earlier today, and it was too perfect. I work in construction as the foreman for a new house build. The location is kind of strange. The house is 250 feet up a hill via a footpath only. All of our materials have to come up this footpath by hand. It’s a pain in the butt to manually carry, quite literally, an ENTIRE HOUSE up this hill.

One of our saving graces is having the two parking spots on the street at the bottom of this hill marked with official “No Parking” signs. Unfortunately, there is an elementary school about half a block away and the parents of children seem to regularly (at least twice a day) think it’s ok to park in our spots. Now, I consider myself a reasonable person, so if someone is parked in the spots and we don’t have a delivery or a need to park a truck, I will let it go.

If we need the spots and there’s someone parked there, however, I will ask them to move nicely and most of the time they do so immediately. Until today. I get a phone call from the lumber delivery truck that is en route to our location. He says he’ll be there in about two or three minutes. I let him know I will meet him at the street and make sure he has space to park.

He’s carrying all of the material to frame the roof of our house, which is a lot of really big lumber and will take easily an hour to bring up the hill, so naturally I didn’t want him parked in the middle of the street with his hazards on for an hour, especially when we have a perfectly good parking spot for him. As I begin my trip down the hill, I notice there is a school parent sitting in her car idling.

Assuming she’s just waiting to pick up her child, I walk up to her car and politely let her know that she is parked in a no parking zone and we really need her to clear it to park a delivery truck. She scoffs at me and rudely states back, “I’ll just be a few minutes, and your truck isn’t here, take a chill pill dude.” Before I can respond, a giant lumber truck comes around the corner.

I wave to him, and then gesture towards him to the woman in the car who has now put her window back up to ignore me. I put on my best customer service smile and wave at her through the window. She put it down halfway and angrily shouts, “WHAT!” By now the truck has pulled up alongside her car and I politely ask her again, with a stronger tone of voice to move her vehicle.

I remind her that she is parked in a tow away zone. Then she gives me this wonderful idea. She says, “Can’t you guys just unload around me? Jesus, it’s not that hard.” I give her another smile and walk away, a brilliant plan forming in my head. I instruct the delivery driver to park as closely to her as possible and block her in with the porta potty that is at one end of our reserved spots and the parked car that is parked just adjacent to our spots on the other end.

He smiles because he immediately gets what I’m trying to do, and proceeds to expertly block this lady and her car into a little two parking spot cell. We unstrap the lumber and my guys begin humping material up the hill, meanwhile I call the parking enforcement to let them know the situation. At this point in time, I wasn’t trying to get her in trouble, I just wanted a record of why we were blocking part of the street so we don’t get in trouble with the city.

The very friendly traffic officer lets me know that she can be there in about 30 minutes and deal with the situation for me, wonderful! As we continue to unload lumber, the child of the parent shows up, and wouldn’t you know it, mom is just now realizing that the lumber truck is parked so close she can’t get out of her driver door to meet her kid.

She awkwardly clambers across the inside of her car and stumbles out the passenger door, shooting glaring looks at me and the truck driver in the process. She loads her kid into the back and then begins to realize that she has no way of leaving. She comes storming up to myself and the driver and states, “I’m in a big hurry, you need to move your truck right now so I can go.”

Before I can respond, the driver gets a grin on his face. He says, “Ma’am, in order to unload the lumber on the truck we had to unstrap it, and per our company policy I’m not allowed to move the truck with any unsecured load on it. Sorry.” This sends her into near aneurysm levels of blood pressure, meanwhile I can barely contain my laughter.

“Screw your policy, I have somewhere to be!” She barks back at him. At this point, with impeccably convenient timing, the parking enforcement officer shows up and parks behind the truck. The woman doesn’t see the officer arrive, and while the officer is still getting out of her vehicle I just casually say, “Can’t you just pull out around it? It’s not that hard.”

I say this with the biggest grin I’ve ever had. I watch as she realizes that I just used her line on her. “Screw you!” She yells, and storms back to her car and angrily clambers back in through the passenger door and into the driver’s seat. Now the officer is walking up to myself and the driver, and before she can even introduce herself the mom in the car slams it into reverse and stomps on the gas.

She crashes into our porta potty and knocks it over, and then throws the car into drive and tries to mount the curb and drive onto the sidewalk. The officer, driver, and I are staring in disbelief as she gets halfway over the curb and gets stuck. I can hear her screaming over the idling truck from inside her car. The officer promptly walks up to the door of the car and orders her out.

My favorite part of the entire thing is watching her face go to shock as she realized she just did all of that in front of an officer. She gets slapped in cuffs as the parking officer calls for a second unit and she is promptly sat on the very curb she tried to drive over. She sits on the curb yelling to the now two officers about how we told her she could stay there and that we never asked her to move.

The traffic officer responds that she was the one who was originally called when she first refused to move and that she already knows what’s going on. While myself and the driver are giving a report to the second officer, my guys finish moving the remainder of the lumber and the driver finishes his statement and takes off to go back to the yard.

By the end of the ordeal she was charged with Child Endangerment, (her kid was in the back of the car the whole time) Reckless Driving, Destruction of Property, (the porta potty) and Driving on a Suspended License. On top of all that, she also got her car towed; the kid went home with his grandma and she went to spend some quality time in a cell.

I never expected her to actually heed my advice to “Just pull out around it.” But I think next time she’ll probably think twice about parking in a tow away zone, if she ever gets a license again.

BBQLunch

31. Look At This Photograph

My co-worker and I took on a new guy in our office and trained him. He’d only been with us for two months and got approved for vacation while my co-worker and I hadn’t had one in over a year. We’d been there for several years and felt a bit bitter. He already knew about it when he booked his vacation and did it anyway. He couldn’t be alone to do the job and needed us there.

Our vacation now has been pushed back even further due to him taking time off rather than continuing his training. We then sought vengeance and told the office that he’d rented an RV to follow Nickelback on tour. We even posted pictures of the band in his cubicle. We photoshopped him into a picture with the band as if he met them at a fan event.

When he came back, he’d taken the pictures and everything well. But when he received customer solutions call with the client asking when what tour he followed, he started getting irritated. But it wasn’t over yet. He forwarded a file that he thought was a file. In reality, we’d changed the label and printed the lyrics to one of Nickelback’s songs. He’d forwarded it to the boss…

I can’t wait until he finds all the other pictures we hid throughout his cubicle.

ayers231

32. Bonus Level Achieved

In high school, this kid was always mean to one of my good friends. He’d go out of his way to bother her. So, I made a fake social account and added him. He took the bait, and I acted interested in him and down to sleep with him when we chatted. I even bought a disposable cell phone to have long conversations with him. While we flirted, he got a girlfriend.

She was in the group that had been mean to my friend. We continued flirting because this kid was a jerk. I had just been planning on wrecking his emotions and making him feel bad, but something much better happened. He was with his girlfriend one day and called me in the bathroom. She overheard him talking to me and calling me “boo” and “baby girl.”

She got very upset but immediately left to go home. She had his password for his socials and signed into his account. She read through all of his messages and saw what he had been saying to this fake girl. There was quite the spectacle the next day. They had a massive screaming match, and no girls would date him for the rest of the school year. Nobody knew I did it, but my friend was so very happy about it.

Son_of_Ticklepiggy

33. Pop Quiz

This happened to my significant other when he was at university. His class was doing presentations in pairs, and he got paired with some girl who didn’t bother to bring notes or research information for their presentation. Instead, she let him do all the work, and any slides she did were made from his notes and research.

He complained to his tutor and she told him, “Don’t worry, leave it to me.” So the day of the presentation comes. They present, and then the tutor asked the girl a question that destroyed her. It was something like, “Is there any evidence to suggest that some cultures are more prone to mental health problems?”

And the girl answered no. The tutor then asked my significant other the exact same question, and because he’d actually read the research on the topic, he was able to list off several studies that showed that some cultures are in fact more prone to mental health issues. The girl glared at him the entire time he answered the tutor’s question. Pretty sure she ended up with a D.

Lil-Night

34. Small Fury

I was in first grade, and we were in an assembly. I had to pee so I asked the teacher nearest us if I could go. She promptly told me to sit down and wait. Ten minutes later, I asked to go again, and she told me to be quiet. So, I sat back down. I still had to go and was just about to flood the room. I needed relief soon. I went to the teacher and told her that I was going to the washroom right then.

She said, “Fine, if your little baby bladder can’t hold it, go.” It was a low blow because I’ve been short all my life, and my classmates called me a “baby” or “shrimp” often. Upset and about to burst, I went straight to her classroom door. And I unleashed myself all over her carpet. It was summer, so the heat made the smell even worse.

My mom also taught at my school, so I found out years later that all the teachers knew that it was me who’d done it. Mom was so angry at the teacher for making me wait after I asked three times that I never got in trouble.

Zrais

35. Getting Handsy

I worked in a factory where my boss was a jerk. And he was untouchable since his uncle owned the company. He always came down to the floor while we were on break to check our work and used my gloves to do it. This was particularly irritating because the company made us buy our own gloves, and I bought really nice ones.

As it was the middle of summer, I thought it was gross having his sweaty hands in my gloves and asked him to stop. He just shrugged me off. By the third time, I got a completely twisted idea. I put a poison ivy leaf in an old pair of gloves and pounded away with a hammer. I put it in a plastic bag hidden in my lunchbox for the next day.

Sure enough, I came back from lunch, and he had used them. A couple of hours later, he walked over to my machine and had red bumps all over his hands that he was itching like crazy. He told me to show him my hands. So, I did and compared mine to his. Playing dumb, I asked if he used my gloves because I’d gotten a rash. The rash was from my “trip to the club” after tipping a girl.

Without another word, he left and went to the doctor. I hope he told him that exact story.

Permalink

36. Mousing Around

I once had a colleague I hated because he was very condescending and really arrogant. So I put an extra Bluetooth receiver in his computer for a computer mouse, and kept the mouse in my drawer. I would just open my drawer and it would mess his stuff right up. Kept it going for like two months. He was about to destroy the world when I thought, “I better stop.”

permalink

37. Take A Note

I lost my full-time schedule to another part-timer after she told my superiors that I wasn’t good at my job. So, I went from over 35 hours to 15 a week. She took my responsibilities and got a pay raise with her promotion. But after I asked for a raise for the same job, they told me they couldn’t because of the economy. I saw red.

One of the job’s responsibilities was to update both training notebooks, put them back together, and then mass-print them twice a year. On training days, the new hires kept them. This task had proven difficult as it took some people two weeks to make them and there would still be mistakes. But I did them in three days. When I handed in my notice, I had mixed up and removed some pages from the original notebooks.

My boss had told me to remove the headers and pages numbers that I added, but I didn’t. This helped my evil scheme become even more diabolical. My original hope was just to make the new person’s life a little more difficult. But I heard that training was chaotic because no one had noticed. This meant that she didn’t check and update the notebooks.

So, she mass-printed a useless 300+ notebook and was fired immediately.

MadameSparks

38. Methods Of A Monster

In sixth grade, I was shy. This loud semi-popular kid always, for whatever reason, took my mechanical pencils, removed the erasers, and then ate them all the while laughing like a crazy person. I never understood it. I think she thought it was cute. My meek protestations made no difference—she just laughed even more. I was running out of pencils with erasers. It enraged me.

Without fail, if I had a new pencil, the eraser was gone right after I entered that class. So, I asked my mom for an eraser pen over Christmas break. After I got it, I dropped it in the toilet, peed on it, used tongs to take it out, then put it in a plastic bag. When I saw her after the break, I greeted her and handed her the bag as a “Christmas” present.

Exactly as I’d expected, she took it out and started chewing on it laughing. I just smiled quietly and got back to my work.

throwawaystoriezzzzz

39. Let’s Go To The Tape

This story is widely known amongst my family and is constantly brought up and joked upon in my group of friends even years later. Backstory: I was a senior in high school at the time and I had never been the brightest student. Still, I was a solid C student and I had never received a detention or had any kind of bad student record.

This is important because to this day, I still have no idea why the teacher treated me this way. The teacher, who we will name Mrs. Frank, had been a teacher there for more than a decade and was widely known for being a petty heartless witch who the administrators saw as the golden child. Mrs. Frank taught algebra, which is my worst subject, so naturally I had issues understanding the lessons and would ask questions frequently.

To some, these questions are easily answered but to me it was rocket science. Usually when someone asks a dumb question, no one should address it. However, in Mrs. Frank’s case, she would belittle me in front of everyone by saying things such as, “And here comes the slow boy again,” “Wow, surprise, surprise you don’t understand it again.” “Really? We have to go extra slow for you today don’t we?” etc.

I tried going to the administration about it, but again she was considered the golden child. They would send someone in to examine her during class, she would act respectful and normal for one day, and go back to being a witch the next. This goes on for about half the year, until I had enough. I went to the local Radio Shack, bought a recorder, and secretly recorded every insult she would throw at me.

I would sometimes instigate to make up for the lost time. Go ahead, feed the fire. Fast forward to the end of the year, and I’m sitting in Mrs. Frank’s class when I ask a question. Her response is burned into my brain. “I’ve been teaching here for over 10 years, and that was the single dumbest question I’ve ever heard come from anyone’s mouth.”

She continued the lesson without answering me. I calmly stood up, packed up my stuff, and headed to the nurse’s office to dismiss myself from school. I went home, compiled all of the brutal tapes into one glorious masterpiece, and headed back the next day to show the administrators. I sat down with the principal and we listened to a couple of the insults before he stopped me.

He wanted more witnesses present as well as Mrs. Frank. He told me we would meet the next day where I could show him and the rest of the administrators the full tape. I walk into school the next morning being the most nervous I’ve ever been for anything. I was called down to the office where I met with some board directors, the local school officer, the principal, the vice principal and Mrs. Frank. What follows was some of the greatest minutes of my life.

I watched as the administrators went from fed up with being in another useless meeting, to furious and speechless, with some of them keeping their mouths open for the duration of the tape. I also watched Mrs. Frank go from confident and stuck up, to her realizing that she had screwed up beyond repair. She was publicly roasting herself in front of the most important people from the district.

The tape ended, and without hesitation, the administrators looked around in astonishment and the principal turns to me and says, “I think we have heard everything we need to, thank you.” And I was quietly dismissed from the room. The final time I saw Mrs. Frank was leaving that room. I looked back and we made eye contact through her tear-filled eyes as I gave the biggest, most evil smile.

I returned to class the next week and Mrs. Frank was nowhere to be found. The story spread quickly throughout the school and I was seen as a saint. I had successfully gotten her fired and made it almost impossible for Mrs. Frank to return to her teaching career, as well as cut off most of her connections she had with other teachers in the school.

I had ruined her financially because no school district in the area would hire this walking piece of garbage. If you’re reading this Mrs. Frank, I’d like to take this moment to tell you to go screw yourself.

Johnny_Provolone

40. No Take Backs

My parents are friends with this couple whose son is mean, but when they’d come over, we were expected to play nicely together. Luckily for me, this wasn’t that often because he was horrible, but being three years younger and a girl made it worse. I remember once when I was six years old, we were playing in the garden. He grabbed me by my ankles and held me upside down over the garden waste pile behind our fence telling me there were spiders in my hair.

I’ve never been one for screaming and crying but that was terrible. He was always a jerk, but I never told on him. It’s partly because I was scared and I didn’t want to be the victim. One evening, he and his parents were over, and we were getting on well enough for once, playing Pokemon Red upstairs in my room on our respective GameBoys.

Not content with being equals, he started boasting about how good his team was compared to mine, had better Pokemon than me, and beat the Elite 4 hundreds of times. But that wasn’t all. He had a Mew. He spun a tale about how he got it from his friend who went to Japan to visit an old man who was the only person in the world who could get you a Mew officially.

Truth or not, he did indeed have a Mew. He told me he got it when his friend did a difficult trading cheat to duplicate it. Eventually, I managed to convince him to do the cheat with me. We went over and over the rules. The trade began, and when it’s nearly complete, he switched his off, and I awaited the trade to finish. Then it happened—a stroke of genius.

I switched mine off, and when we restarted, I had his Mew, and he had a Caterpie. He looked at the GameBoy and then looked at me. I thought he might hit me. Suddenly, the gravity of the situation hit him, and then he launched himself out of my room, screaming, crying, and rolling around in the hall. Our parents rushed upstairs to see what was going on.

“She did it wrong,” he cried. “She took my Mew!” Naturally, none of them understood Pokemon, so when they looked at me with my lip quivering and tears in my eyes, the conclusion was obvious. “Oh, stop crying,” they said, “she’s just a wee girl. I’m sure she didn’t mean it!” Still crying, the brat screamed at them to make me do the trade again but got in more trouble.

Everyone comforted me, especially my new Mew and that sweet taste of victory.

winterandautumn

41. Do You One Better

I was in high school in the 90s. My computer science teacher assigned a project to my brother and me to make a program for teaching and measuring typing speed. The teacher used the program we were made to teach typing in all of his classes as if it was his. So, my brother and I hatched a brilliant plan. We’d make a new one.

The new software was better with improvements based on the original program’s use as well as additional features that the teacher couldn’t be able to pass up. We gave it to him with no incentive other than mere extra credit. But our program had a “bonus” feature. The teacher took care of all of the computers at school. What he didn’t know about our hidden feature was that it took over the machine’s operating system randomly.

It made the machine load a shell operating system and a prompt that read the machine’s contents had been wiped. We made it so that the feature intercepted all commands and only output what we’d wanted him to see. He had to reformat and reinstall the OS on all of the machines at least once a week for the rest of the year. And the best part of all?

Because it happened at random, there was never any pattern that suggested my brother and I had anything to do with it. And the first thing he would re-install when he was done was always the typing program.

ProjectDirectory

42. A Penny For Your Thoughts

I used to deliver pizza for Dominos. It was my last shift and there was this house that was always rude. For example, I called to asked what the house looked like and they said “I gave you the address” and hung up on me. They also never tipped. Well, I got to their house and they gave me a check for one cent less than what the total was.

I said, “I am going to need the extra penny.” They grumbled off and took their time, hoping I would give up, but I just sat there holding the pizza. They finally came back all ticked off and gave me the penny. No tip. This time I came up with an ingenious plan. When they gave me the penny, I chucked it out into the street and left. They saw me do it. It was SATISFYING.

Whosyabobby

43. Take That Spritz

In grade seven, we had a class right after football practice. We were always in a hurry to get there and didn’t have time to put our things in our lockers. So, we left our bags at the side of our big classroom. Well, Sonny always used my cologne while I was somewhere else in the classroom. It doesn’t sound like a big deal. But I had told him to stop before, so now he was doing it just to bother me.

Well, I had the great idea to put my cologne in a new container and pee in the old bottle. I will never forget watching this jerk spray my pee all over himself or the look on his face when he realized that he had doused himself in human urine.

atthedrive-by

44. Total Lock Out

There was a kid in middle school who made my life miserable. Once, I stayed after school to do a test I’d missed, and I saw that the kid’s locker was wide open with his phone for anyone to take. I thought about destroying it but decided instead, I’d set a passcode. In the morning, I watched him try to unlock his phone. His phone stayed locked every time he tried. Then, the most amazing thing happened.

He became so frustrated that he threw his phone at the wall breaking it. He deserved it.

Jackle13

45. Tow Me to the Burn Ward, Please

When I was in college back in the 90s, I used to dispatch tow truck drivers part-time to help pay tuition. It was an easy job. Someone broke down, they called Triple A, then Triple A called whichever tow company was nearest. If we were nearest, I would get on the radio and tell the driver where to go and what to expect.

Pretty easy, and most drivers were laid-back, friendly guys. Sometimes we would get new drivers, though, as the tow industry has a healthy turnover, especially in the wintertime. If the new guys ever got uppity or were jerks, we had this one trick we would pull on them. First, we would wait for the “Driver” to be helping a girl.

Then once they had gotten the girl’s car on the flatbed or strung up on the rig, we would go over the radio and ask if they were available. Dispatcher: “Hey driver, you have a customer with you en route back to the garage?” Driver: “Yeah dispatch we are heading back to the garage.” This is where we’d strike.

Dispatcher: “Okay, good. Oh, by the way, the doctor called. He said something about your private rash cream being in and you can pick it up whenever you have time.” Of course, all of the other drivers would be standing by on their radios and then they would all chime in laughing to bust the target driver’s chops. It was a great laugh, and the drivers never messed with the other drivers or dispatch again.

ronglangren

46. Heavy On The Sauce

In middle school, there were these two kids who always got into trouble and messed with me a lot. At lunch, one of them started throwing ketchup packets at me. First, I ignored it because they did this to people all the time and the teachers never did anything about it if they stopped in time. Well, he wasn’t stopping. He probably grabbed a whole handful of packets just to toss them at me.

After the fifth one, I took one, opened it, and sprayed ketchup all over his face and shirt. He stood as if to hit me, so I backed away slowly. We both looked for the lunch attendant. We both spotted her, and she was trying not to laugh. So, I won.

fceffect

47. Fool’s Goal

When I was growing up, I had a best friend, Chris, who would come stay over for a week or so at a time. I rarely saw him, and we lived very far apart, so the extended visits were the only time I spent with him. I lived in a very rural area so reaching my house was difficult. During one of these visits, we were both 11.

I learned that two other boys, our “closest” neighbors, from twenty minutes up the road and sons of a good friend of my mother would be joining us for lunch. With a few days to plan, hundreds of acres of forest, a treehouse, and 11-year-old imagination at our disposal, we hatched our evil plot. These boys were trouble. They were spoiled brats and were the most entitled individuals I had ever met.

The older one, 13, considered himself a “rapper,” and went so far as to have his daddy keep his precious “lyrics” in a safe because he was convinced that he would be famous one day. This was the kind of kid who’d take things from other kids. He’d taken my favorite world industries tech deck just because he thought he was a little “thug,” and I’ll never forget that.

The younger one was not nearly as bad but tried to emulate his brother and thus could also be a nuisance of incredible magnitude. Chris and I decided to send them on a “scavenger hunt” of sorts. Their goal was to find us. We hid clues to our location all over the property. We lured them to my treehouse right by the driveway where we’d put a walkie-talkie.

So, as they got out of their car, they heard our voices coming from the treehouse. We weren’t there but watching from a vantage point high in a redwood tree. From there, we explained to them that if they wanted us to come down, they’d have to play our game. They bought it, then went on to fight their way through thick brush to the remote locations where we had hidden clues.

They were covered in pointy thorns and sticks obediently looking for dozens of clues we left for them. Over the next couple of hours, we fought back laughter from our vantage point as we watched them become increasingly frustrated with our antics. They regularly went to the treehouse to plead for us to come down but always begrudgingly went back to the hunt.

By the time they found all of the clues, it was time to leave. We never actually had to interact with them. We watched them climb back into their pristine BMW 5 series covered in thorns, red in the face with frustration, and utterly exhausted.

CriimsonKiing

48. Good Godiva, Man

My wife used to keep these little Godiva chocolates that she likes in her desk at work, but started noticing some of them missing and figured it must be someone from the overnight cleaning staff taking them. Fed up with losing her not-inexpensive treats, she decided to get revenge on the choco-thief in question.

My wife replaced the good chocolate with these little squares of chocolate laxatives that look just like real candies. The next morning, she saw several of the laxatives were gone. Mission accomplished. From that day forward, she was never missing another one of her good chocolates ever again. I imagine the toilet trouble was a lesson learned.

VictorBlimpmuscle

49. Connecting The Box

I was sick of my roommate using my Xbox 360. He would play it for hours on end and leave it on overnight. Then he got mad at me for shutting it off when I got up in the morning because he hadn’t “saved his game.” I tried reasoning with him and said to take it easy on such a delicate console as a first edition Xbox 360. He wasn’t as tech-savvy as I, so I tricked him in the best way possible.

I went into the settings and blocked all the ports that the Xbox needed to access the internet. So, when he tried using it, he became frustrated and couldn’t figure out why the Xbox wasn’t working. He couldn’t get it to work, and none of his friends could either. I told him he broke it.

ddeluca93

50. Streak Of Genius

When I was a freshman in high school, my friends and I found a big unopened bottle that people had left behind the bleachers after drinking. This was around the time when the grades pulled pranks on the others for homecoming week. On Friday, we had an assembly in the gym to conclude spirit week. The seniors always won. On the day of the assembly, we found some guy off the street who was eager to do whatever for the bottle we’d found.

So, our principal stood at the center of the gym discussing the senior class’s high spirits and participation when a hairy dude wearing only a cape reading ’09 ran past him. The principal wasn’t pleased.

Frohirrim

51. The High Road

I was visiting my friend at his dad’s house in an area where the land is so steep that all the driveways have to switchback up from the main road to the houses. A straight driveway is not an option because it would be steeper than the building code allows. A few doors down the road, there lived a nice old couple who until recently had had a vacant lot next door to them, but the lot had sold and the new owner had started construction on a new house.

Unfortunately the lot was so steep that the new owner built his driveway partly on the old couple’s land (it was carved out of the hillside with an excavator). This probably wouldn’t have been a big deal if the new owner had approached the old couple first and asked nicely, but did he? Would I be telling this story if he had? In fact, the old couple had no idea what was happening until they came home one day to see a huge scar in the hillside snaking up from the road in front of their house.

It went across the corner of their property, winding upwards to where an excavator was working to prepare the land for their new neighbor’s house. They were pretty upset, but being nice, reasonable people, they figured it was an honest mistake, so they went over to talk to the machine operator. He didn’t know anything useful, but he was happy to give them the phone number of the new property owner.

The old guy gave him a call and politely explained the situation, but his new neighbor, whom he’d never even met, was having none of it. He flat out denied that the driveway crossed the property line, and he was rude enough that the old guy was pretty upset. At this point, the old couple weren’t sure what to do. They double-checked the property pins to make sure they were right, and of course they were, but after further conversations with the new owner it was clear he was an unreasonable guy who wasn’t going to come to the negotiating table willingly.

The old couple didn’t want to take court action because that would have been expensive and, frankly, the damage to their yard was already done. At the same time, they couldn’t just let someone walk all over them like that, especially if they were going to be living next door for the foreseeable future. So the situation stewed for a while as construction continued on the new house, until one day when my friend’s dad saw the old couple in the neighborhood and they started chatting.

Of course they told him the story about the jerk new neighbor. Now, my friend’s dad really likes the old couple, who don’t have a mean bone in their bodies, so he was pretty angry about the situation, and when he went home he couldn’t get it out of his head. That evening, after a few drinks, he had a brilliant idea. He called up the old couple, explained his plan, and asked for their permission to carry it out.

They chuckled and gave him the go-ahead, so he hopped into the rusty old full-size pickup he kept as a second vehicle and drove it over to the old couple’s place, where he parked it across the encroaching driveway, making sure it was entirely on their property. The next morning, the work crew arrived bright and early to find that they couldn’t drive to the house they were building because some jerk had parked an old F-150 across the driveway.

They saw a note in the window with my friend’s dad’s phone number on it, so they called him to ask what the heck was going on. He explained that he had permission from the owners to park there and that, no, he would not move his truck so they could get to work. Furthermore, if anyone attempted to tow the truck, they would be charged with trespassing and theft.

There was no way the construction guys were going to haul all their tools up the hill by hand, and they didn’t want to get in the middle of a court battle, so they just called the new owner to let him know they’d be taking the day off and that they’d continue to take days off until the property boundary dispute was resolved. The new owner called the old couple in a fury, but the old couple told them the same thing my friend’s dad told the construction workers.

Basically, the vehicle was parked on their own property, so if he had a problem with that he could go screw himself. To make an already long story shorter, the new neighbor ranted a while, but eventually he wanted his house to be built, so the nice old couple ended up with a significant sum of money in exchange for an easement allowing the driveway to pass across the corner of their property, and my friend’s dad got several thank-you cases of drinks and the satisfaction that comes from putting an jerk in his place.

diypackraft

52. Eat You To It

My cousin’s friend was always really mean to me and picking on me. My mom told me how she’d gotten back at the girl who had been mean to her when she was younger. So, one day when she was being her usual mean self, my mother’s story inspired me. I picked up a leaf on the ground and walked over to the rude girl with it.

I told her to hide it somewhere on her body. Then I took a dandelion with the seeds to “find” the leaf. As I “scanned” her body to find it, I worked up to her mouth. I held the dandelion in front of her mouth and told her to open it. With a smug smile, she opened her mouth thinking I was dumb for thinking it was there. As soon as she did, I jammed it down her throat—white dandelion seeds, stem and all.

She almost threw up. My aunt, uncle, and cousin were all upset with me, but my mom thought it was hilarious because she knew how mean this girl was.

mikesername

53. Popping Bottles

I was 16 and had grown up together with my friend. We had always been close, but as we got older, he got more involved in heavier stuff and slowly transformed into Pat the Punk. He started selling, dropped out of school, and became your run-of-the-mill degenerate. One day, his neighbor agreed to buy drinks for a party. I was very excited about it because I wanted to impress a girl I liked from school.

So, we both chipped in $50 for the biggest bottle. The neighbor delivered it to my friend’s place, and we left it on the coffee table while we played video games with his brother. When I came back from the washroom, the bottle was gone. I just laughed and asked where it was. Both avoided eye contact and shrugged. Irritated, I told them that bottles didn’t just get up and leave.

I asked them again where it was. They still claimed ignorance and kept their eyes glued to the TV. By then, I was livid and finally understood the phrase “blood-boiling anger.” But I kept my cool as best as I could then questioned them for another 15 minutes trying to make them tell me it was a joke or what’d happened. With no response, I told them that I could take the hint that they disrespected me that much and left.

So, I decided to learn everything I could about making fake dollar bills. My old printer provided three subpar twenty-dollar bills. I waited a week to let things calm down before asking Pat the Punk for $60 of bud. He didn’t notice a thing because he was always drinking or on something. I left feeling like I’d put the universe in balance by getting even, and I considered our friendship over.

A few weeks later, I heard that Pat gave his dealer the fake bills who then tried to use them at a convenience store. The bills were so bad that the clerk immediately knew and called for officers. His dealer denied vehemently he didn’t know the bills were fake. But the officers still decided to search his car for more. Instead, they found little baggies of white powder and took him in.

His dealer knew exactly who’d given him the fake bills. But my friend had no idea they were fake or who’d given it to him. I never meant it to go this far…Unfortunately, a few nights after his dealer’s bust, two masked men broke into Pat’s house, beat him badly, and looted his house.

Ospagett

54. Falling Flat

Someone in my office would always crush lunches with his gigantic freaking lunch box. Either he ate bricks or lead, I don’t know, but I always came to the office fridge and found that my lunch was in pieces. So, after three bouts of this and numerous notes from myself and other colleagues, I carefully removed his lunch box.

I emptied the contents of the lunch box. Then I ran over them with my car. Just completely flattened it all. But that’s not even the best part. I then carefully packed it back into his lunch box, and put it back for him to find. I felt bad at first, but it was well worth the effort. He kept his lunch in a cooler by his cube from then on.

AR3Leatherworks

55. Rising Above

When I was in high school, I had a friend who was a grade above me, and we lived down the block from each other. One day at school, I saw him in the hallway and asked him a question about soccer. He looked at me and said, “Do I know you?” and walked off. I blew it off and went over to his house to talk to him about it.

He said, “Sorry, but you’re a junior and I’m a Senior. I have standards.” I hated him for this comment. So, I spent a good two months hashing out my plan for revenge. I figured out that his mom and dad loved their manicuring their lawn every couple of days. Then I learned about his most dreaded chore. It was lawn work. One Friday night, I found a deli that made fresh dough for bagels.

I grabbed a trash bag of the dough that they’d thrown out at the end of the day. At midnight, I brought the dough over to my “friend’s” house and threw little chunks of the dough all over their perfect lawn. It was the middle of the summer in the south. So, when the sun rose, those little pieces of dough started to rise like hybrid mushrooms and stuck to the lawn like concrete.

His mother and father came out to go to work and were horrified. They blamed their son and his senior classmates for playing a prank, and he spent the entire weekend scraping all that dough up.

drew1111

56. Blend Of You

In eighth grade, I got annoyed with a classmate who was a jerk to me. My mom worked at the school, so I was there after class a lot. I was in my homeroom and came across this jerk’s vocabulary book. It was due tomorrow, and it was clear he forgot it. I looked at the back of the room and saw the construction paper tray. On top was orange construction paper, which was the same color as the vocabulary book. I knew what I had to do.

I left the book hidden on top of the construction paper. An hour later, the jerk came into my mom’s classroom where I was after school waiting for her, and he was bawling his eyes out because he couldn’t find his vocabulary book. He told me he’d get detention if he didn’t finish the assignment due the next day. With the best poker face that I’ve ever pulled off, I told him I hadn’t seen it and left him to his misery.

He found it the next day after it was too late and was so confused.

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57. Greed Is Bad

This is about a job where I and about 200 other guys were promised, and earned, bonuses. The company was a financial services firm known for paying well, but one year they decided they’d withhold bonuses. This is how I handled it. So I was working for a financial firm: 1,800 employees, with a sales force of 200. I was one of the salesmen.

We had our annual meeting in April. It was a big affair. Most of the employees attended, and the CEO gave a big speech about how the previous year was the best in the company’s history, blah blah blah. The next month, May, we each submitted memos basically justifying why we qualified for—or should qualify for—bonuses at the end of June. I wrote mine out and explained the sales growth in my territory over the course of the previous 12 months, and what percentage my sales were out of last year’s total sales.

Coming off the company’s best year ever, it should have been a slam dunk, right? All of us were excited about how much we’d have coming in June. June rolls around and my bonus is zero. ZERO. But it’s not just me. It’s all over the sales floor. Less than 20% of the sales force got bonuses, and everyone was ANGRY. All the supervisors were dealing with angry subordinates, the sales manager was too, and even the VP and director above him.

Everyone was furious and insubordinate, angry accusatory emails were flying, and the company was facing a mutiny. It got worse when it came out that the supervisors were offered bonuses that they could determine for themselves. Most of them took them, but a couple—knowing their subordinates wouldn’t be getting anything—refused. My supervisor took his.

When it came out, he tried to explain to his sales team about how he felt it was justified and how hard he worked. He ended up with people screaming at him about how they felt the same but they didn’t get jack. So for a week or so, things on the floor came to a stop. A lot of people just didn’t show up and the ones that did were angry.

I came in and started reading Monster.com ads at my desk. I also stopped selling anything, or answering my phone. When confronted by my boss, I told him that as soon as I got the bonus my sales justified, I’d start working again. Until then I’d be coming in late, reading and responding to want ads, and leaving early. He could expect me to keep that up until I found another job or was fired.

The following day, I was sent to the regional sales manager’s office. She said she’d heard about my work stoppage and asked me to explain myself. I told her that if she heard about it from my supervisor, than she already knew why I wasn’t working and I didn’t need to explain it again. She tried buddying up to me, being friendly, then being stern, then being angry.

I kept my composure and told her that the longer the company held out on my bonus, the longer it was going to miss out on sales from my territory. I then gave her my average daily amount of sales from the previous year, quantified what the total loss would be for a week of me not selling, and how much cheaper it would be just to pay me the money I was owed and get me back to selling.

Then I thanked her for her time and told her I’d be leaving work as soon as I left her office. And I did. The following day I came in, checked my emails—some of which were farewell emails from co-workers who quit over their bonuses—and sat on Monster.com until I was told to go to the office of the national sales manager. He’s the gatekeeper; he’s in charge of all 200 of us.

He told me he understood that I was upset, and could see why. I asked him if withholding the bonuses from 80% of his sales force was his idea or someone else’s. He didn’t answer. He did tell me that I would be getting a check on Monday, and could I please go back to work now? I told him I’d be going back to my desk, but work wouldn’t start until the check was in my hand.

When I went back and checked my emails—yup, more defections. The next day, an email went out to the entire sales force: Management had taken a look at the numbers, re-evaluated the financials, and determined that June bonuses would be issued shortly. The email also apologized for the delay, and reminded us that as salesmen, we were the core of the company and our hard work was appreciated.

I also received another email, this time from the national sales manager, who told me while bonuses were scheduled for Monday, he’d be walking my check to my desk the following day. The following day I showed up, sat down, and shortly afterwards the national sales manager walked on up and handed me my bonus check. That’s when I completed my revenge.

I thanked him, and handed him my resignation effective immediately. In my resignation letter, I requested that a check for my unused vacation time please be cut and given to me before I left the building. When he finished reading it, I told him I’d clean out my desk while I waited for the vacation check. While I was doing that, one of my co-workers also resigned effective immediately.

We were walked out at the same time and ended up drinking at the bar across the street. I learned later from co=workers that remained that even though the company issued the bonuses, they lost about 20% of the sales force in the following two months. Gotta love corporate greed. The company had been around over 30 years by then and was known for generous compensation and had never before played games with bonuses or payments.

IntertiasCreep

58. Job Badly Done

I used to work for a large multinational company. The entire IT department of over 150 people was told their jobs had been outsourced to Costa Rica via HP. Oh and we had to train our replacements. The particular IT function I used took me a year to learn, and I’m not stupid. There were seven of us in the IT department. We had two weeks to train our replacements.

Most of the time, our “replacements” were there, they stayed glued to their screens watching videos. We explained many times to those who listened or cared that these people weren’t getting it and didn’t care they weren’t getting it. They thought we just wanted our jobs back. Six weeks after we had been laid off, each of us received a semi panicked/plea-full call from the company essentially begging for help.

HP had let the requests back up to over six times what we normally had in the queue after our team left. Well, we all got together for lunch to discuss the next move. I already had a new job. So, I recommended they all call the company back to go help but only if they paid them handsomely. Three of them were brought back as contractors for three years making over three times than they made as employees.

quikniq

59. By Popular Vote

High school. We were in history class, and I really had to go to the bathroom. A girl was already out and we were only allowed to leave one at a time. Fine. However, this girl often goes to the bathroom then just hangs out and is gone for like 30 minutes. So, after 20 minutes I had to really go. I asked to use the bathroom again. DENIED.

Teacher said someone was out already. I said she has been out for almost the entire class, I need to go. Someone texts the girl, she appears. Looks ticked. Yells at me in the hall. I didn’t have to wait long to get a satisfying revenge. See, she was trying to become our homeroom class president. Not really a serious position, but it was leadership for her college applications, and the “debate” was that day.

Our class was about 30 kids. Two people were running: that girl and another. They said their two-minute speeches. At the point where we cast our votes, I had a little group of my friends in the class vote for a third party—a guy she hated. He was elected and she lost a line in her college resume to a guy who didn’t even want the spot.

wm1989

60. Sticky Move

I was in college and living in a fraternity. My room was at the base of the stairs where guys routinely got hammered and loud. It annoyed me to no end. So, I decided to get back at them in an ingenious way. I unscrewed all of the shower heads and filled them with butterscotch candies and then screwed the heads back on. The candies took about five minutes to melt, which meant that shortly after I heard the shower turn on, I could hear the cursing begin throughout the house.

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61. Test Of The Senses

Between college and law school, I lived in a three-bedroom house with two sorority girls. In December, I told them that I was taking my LSAT a few weeks in advance and reminded them a few times. Still, they went ahead and completely disrespected me. They decided to invite all of their friends over the night before my test. There’s a lot of drinking, and it got really loud.

I’d asked them to keep it down because I just wanted to sleep. But by four in the morning, I was furious. The party was coming to an end, and I heard some of the guys say that they didn’t need a blanket while they stayed for the night in the living room. So, I went down the hall and turned the thermostat all the way down. But I wasn’t finished yet.

I pulled the knob off, threw it on the yard, and went back to sleep. When I was walking out the door a few hours later, all of the guys were huddled in the living room. One of them asked me why it was so cold, and I just laughed and left to take my test. I didn’t feel bad for a single second.

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62. The Notebook

A while ago I worked at a baseball store called Bal-Mart (or a general goods store that sounded like that) not so long after the Great Recession of 2008, and management was trying to cut costs because of falling profit. One of the first things management did was fire two of the three full-time maintenance and cleaning guys. The one guy they kept, I’ll call him MG for maintenance guy, was amazing at his job.

Everything in the store ran well because of him and his willingness to go beyond what was required to help people. A genuinely nice guy. For six months, management tried to make having one third of a maintenance staff work, and it failed miserably. MG could not do everything, and over time management increasingly asked him to “coordinate” some part-timers that were supposed to do the cleaning and carts. He spent so much time “coordinating” that he had no time for maintenance.

The night crew was also cut, so they couldn’t pick up the slack. Then two things happened within the space of a week. These events told management how important he was to the store running well. First, some cleaning machines broke down. Turns out they have to be properly cleaned weekly, and if left alone they gum up real bad and parts wear out quickly. A several thousand dollar repair bill because he was told to prioritize coordinating part-timers over “tinkering” with machines.

A few days later, the deli lady nearly quit after the blade on the deli slicer went flying off and could have cut her face badly. Turns out that the bolt that held it in place was loose, and MG had tightened it weekly for her. When he didn’t have time to do that anymore he told management it had to be replaced for safety. Well, management didn’t do that because it cost money, but they told people it was fixed.

That could have been a lawsuit; they and deli lady got lucky. So management sat down with him and asked him why things were going wrong. MG told them point-blank he needed enough time for maintenance, and someone else had to coordinate the part-time cleaners and check up on them (they were rather lazy). Management called him a liar; they said maintenance should be easy and done quickly.

MG got mad because that insulted his professionalism, and he pulled out his notebook from his back pocket. It turns out that over his 15 years, he had filled the book with charts, schedules, and diagrams of how to do his job and keep things running. There were over one hundred things he checked weekly or monthly. There were a lot of machines he kept in running order, some had certain things that were half-broken and had to be wiggled in a certain way, etc.

To be honest, a lot of these things were minor or major safety hazards, but over the years management was fine with not replacing multi-thousand dollar machines if MG knew how to keep them working. As well, he did things that he should not have done, like calibrating machines for departments that should have done it themselves or contracted it out, etc, but he was a nice guy and he liked helping people.

He told me that he spent about a half-hour telling management about what he did, and he suspected that until then nobody had ever known how much he did. Well, he may have said a few swear words and derogatory things while telling management why he needed time to do stuff, it was not a good moment for him and he was angry. At the end, he put his notebook back in his pocket and offered to take a week to write up everything he knew so that management would have written proof of why his job mattered in case a higher-up asked why they increased maintenance costs when corporate was demanding they cut costs.

The multiple managers in the room looked at each other, and asked him to leave so they could talk in private. He told me (several years later, when I ran in to him somewhere and had lunch with him) that he had a premonition as he walked out of the room. So he went to the backroom and tossed his notebook in the garbage compactor. For good measure, he then went around the store and emptied all the garbage cans and tossed those bags in so his notebook was properly buried.

He was fine with it, all that information was in his head. After a few minutes, management called him back. They told him that they could not allow him to keep working there because of the level of insubordination he had showed. They said as soon as he surrendered his badge, box cutter, and notebook he would be escorted out of the building by security. He handed over his badge and box cutter, and then they asked for the notebook.

He said he threw it in the compactor. Their eyes went wide and they asked why he threw it out. He said he thought he was going to write everything up nicely on the computer from memory so he thought he was done with the notebook. At this point, management starts looking at each other, worried, because they had intended to take his book, fire him, and have a less subordinate part-timer (who doesn’t get expensive benefits like a full-timer) do his job.

Now they couldn’t. One of the managers suggested that he be allowed to write up the info before being escorted out, the others agreed. He was given the chance to be unfired just long enough to give them the info. How kind. He laughed and walked out, head held high, and management followed him to his car to make sure he left. I don’t have exact numbers, but I guesstimate the store had to spend at least twenty or thirty thousand bucks to replace stuff that MG had kept working beyond the equipment’s lifespan, and the new guy they hired had a heck of a time figuring out how things worked.

To be honest, in a few cases MG had gone too far, like creating fire hazards by taping broken chargers together after rewiring them instead of tossing them, but management had never complained when he saved them money. There were also a lot of things that should have been done by the health and safety team or the departments, but they also never complained about having less work.

I asked him if throwing out that notebook was illegal but he said it was personal property to help him remember things; it was not a work-provided notebook. He was proud of what he did, and his pride clearly showed in how he told the story. He said that nobody is allowed to question his professional judgment by implying he is lazy. I agree.

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63. Can’t Even Say

While working at my serving job, a little girl asked for a Sprite. I told her, “sure thing.” On my walk back to the kitchen, I remembered then that we only sold Pepsi products and used Sierra Mist instead of Sprite. I brought her the Sierra Mist without saying anything because she’s just a kid. She won’t notice, right? I came back later to check up on them and asked if she’d like a refill.

She said yes. I laughed devilishly in my head knowing she had no idea she didn’t get a Sprite. The fool. She had no idea. I get a rush just thinking about it.

bill_nydus

64. A Grinch Too Close

My kids were behaving badly just before Christmas, and before I had time to think, I said, “If you don’t behave, I’ll throw away your Christmas presents!” The threat worked, but not for long because they called my bluff. So, after I had to scrub the marker off the walls, I decided to follow through with my threat. I wrapped an empty box and put it under the tree.

The next day when they did something naughty, I threw that box away. Not only were they good that December, but every Christmas season since.

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65. Ex-Communicated

Years ago, I had a girl cheat on me with her ex. I never told her I knew, but inevitably broke up a week or two later “mutually”… I knew full well she would return to her ex immediately. Well, she did. I was bitter, but held it together. Then a month later, by a complete stroke of luck, I ended up with the ex/new boyfriend’s phone number.

A female friend of mine wanted to help me and posed as his “side chick.” She called and texted him every night for a week asking when he was going to screw her again, and saying she “can’t wait to see him again when his girlfriend goes to work.” I’d listen in to the calls, and every call we’d hear my ex in the background going crazy about it.

Sometimes she’d even answer the phone. My friend did a terrific job. After a week, we decided to up the ante. We drove by her house and his car was parked outside with the windows down. We put a pair of panties in the backseat. A few days later, I get a call from my ex, who had suddenly decided she wanted to return to me. Then I turned her down.

permalink

66. Slippery Soap

As a prank, I put baby oil on the shower floor so when my little brother got in the shower, he would slip. I was young and didn’t think of the possible consequences of my actions thoroughly. Luckily, nothing happened to him because when I got in the shower, I slipped, and hurt myself. I’m glad that I learned my lesson.

DriizzyDrakeRogers

67. Friendly Neighborhood Repairman

Dad ended up in a one-room apartment downtown after the divorce. The location was close to the arts district, so visits during the day were nice. But nights got pretty loud. Rent was cheap, so they were favored by the local undocumented workers who’d stay in groups in one apartment and liked punching holes in the wall. Dad liked the area and the rent. But he got into it with his neighbors.

At night, they liked to drink and have loud parties showing off their strength by punching the walls. To cope with the sound, he boarded his window with plywood and hung heavy quilts over the door. My sister and I didn’t see him do that very often. I kept my pet corn snake there. When his neighbors saw me carry it in, it got Dad a lot of respect.

No one ever tried to break into his apartment. But Dad couldn’t stand the holes in the apartment walls. They took a long time for the apartment manager to repair. So, Dad had to fix the holes himself and keep them fixed. He filled a board full of long nails. When there was a new hole in the wall, my dad made a whole production out of putting the board of nails into the wall then patching it up while his neighbors watched.

My dad told them that each time someone punched a hole, he’d add a new board of nails. The holes stopped appearing!

calladus

68. Music To My Ears

Flashback to 2014… or so. I moved out on my own in 2013 and moved into an old house converted into a two-floor apartment, directly across from my future in-laws. The downstairs neighbors were loud. BLARING music at all hours (yes, all of the hours), wouldn’t cut the grass or take out the trash on our shared schedule. Crappy neighbors, but never bothered me directly.

The guy was pretty chill when sober and would turn the music down a little when I texted him. He was okay until his girlfriend moved in. Now add shouting matches to the mix, and all of the sudden my requests to turn down the music makes him turn it up. I can barely walk on my super-thin floor without her banging on the ceiling with a broom. I was okay since I am heavy sleeper and could sleep through anything.

My wife moved in, and I quickly found out that she is quite the opposite. Fan on turned at a certain angle in the doorway of the bathroom, door closed half way, blackout curtains with them taped to the wall so zero light comes through, zero sounds other than the fan, you get the idea. I told her that we can’t expect them to remain silent when she’s ready for bed, we need to be reasonable, but the wall rattling music needs to stop during the night.

She hated it during the day, but I told her there’s nothing we can do then, so she would go to her parent’s house a lot during the day. I talked to neighbor-guy, and he said “yeah man that’s cool,” but it turns out the girlfriend wasn’t having it and his attitude then changed to, “Yeah well it’s our house so you can go screw yourself if you think you can tell us what to do and you can move out if you don’t like it.”

Something definitely had to change at some point. So I did the only thing I could do. I fought fire with fire, and maliciously complied with the law to the T. I could only report them for noise after 11:00 PM. I now forget the morning hour when the noise could start, but I believe it was 9:00 AM. My dad has these huge old concert speakers in his garage.

Professional grade, black leather bound, 5 feet tall and 3 feet wide, and a pretty nice, vintage stereo/amp. He has two, but my apartment was so small I sadly only had room for one. We replaced our coffee table with this thing, laid face down onto our thin, office carpet. Tired of his tunes, I tested this Geneva Convention-breaking device when they weren’t home. Holy cow.

I had to take everything down from tables, counters and shelves because they would shake off. I prepared audio files to feed the stereo. I was giddy like a kid with a new Christmas toy. I turned it on when I left for work and got my wife up to send her to her parents. I came home from work and hung out at her parents until it was close to bed time.

They resisted for three days. On day two, I found a pile of manure on my doorstep, but it didn’t faze me. I cycled between sine/saw/square waves in clashing chords, marching music (Washington Post March on loop), preaching clips (they weren’t just atheist, but outspoken anti-Christian, so it was a must), the most stupid songs you could think of (Captain Planet theme song, Chicken dance, etc).

This poor old house rattled in ways I didn’t think possible. The vibrations from the sine wave would make your vision blur. I eventually got a text from him that read, “sorry man you can stop now.” I did not. He needed a few more days to let it sink in. Plus I had so much fun putting it together. They complained to the authorities and the landlord.

There was nothing they could do since I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I didn’t even hear music during the time of peace to follow. It was so quiet. They would build up their courage and try again every few weeks when I wasn’t home, but my wife was. I then showed her how to tame the beast so she could let it loose while I was away. I had to give them a spanking every now and then, but they learned. They were so happy when we moved out.

greyspot00

69. Meaningful Exit

Before officially submitting my resignation, I wrote a code in the program that in three weeks after my final day would mess with parts of the system. After compiling and integrating it into the network, I removed the code from the source then gave everything to them. I didn’t create the program. I merely took it over. My replacement would need at least a couple of months to figure out how the whole program works just as I did.

In the meantime, they were using a broken program with no way to figure out the source of the problem.

temporarypanic12

70. Handling It

In the third grade, my English teacher refused to correct my test score. The scantron machine would mark answers wrong even though you filled the right bubble. So, I figured out that filling in between two lines at the bottom of the scantron made it so every answer came out wrong. The mark is subtle and hard to notice. I did it for every test and encouraged my classmates to do the same.

My teacher had to grade all of those tests that came back with a grade of zero.

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71. Selective Memory

My mom was a language teacher at my high school, and years after I had graduated, she called me kind of upset because a group of guys was trying to make her look dumb. The class was supposed to write one of those team dialogues in Spanish. They had a week or so to prepare it, then they had to perform it in front of the class.

When she called on them to do theirs, they said: “But we already did ours, we’re not doing it again.” She said, “You definitely didn’t do it, I don’t have any record of it here and I would remember it if you had.” They simply refused to do it, insisting they already performed it and that it was her fault she didn’t take notes or put their scores down.

She was in the middle of questioning herself when one of the good kids came and told her the truth. They hadn’t really done it, and they had just been bragging about making her look stupid. They apparently even threatened the class if they said anything. Well, obviously my mom was appalled, but she came up with an amazing revenge plot.

My mom was really into yoga at the time and got a great idea while meditating. She went in the next day and said, “Boys, I owe you an apology. I found my notes on your presentation and I do remember it, I don’t know how I forgot!” She then went on to describe all the grammatical mistakes they made, all their word choice flaws, everything. All made up. She failed them all on the project, and they couldn’t do a thing about it without admitting they’d made it all up.

a-dizzle-dizzle

72. My Ten Cents

My first roommate in college was highly inconsiderate. She’d used my things without asking, played the same song on repeat for hours when I was trying to study, left food to rot in the fridge that I’d bought for us to share. After a while, I found out that she was very superstitious. She believed in the power of dimes. She thought that when she found them, spirits were present and watching her.

So, I started to leave dimes everywhere—on her desk, the windowsill, the elevator—all the while denying any involvement. She was so spooked that she moved to a different building.

fyrflye

73. Insider’s Only

When she was five and I was three, my sister was the evil genius. She caught me praying for my stuffed animals to come to life. So, she took it upon herself to position my toys frozen in the middle of various activities whenever I was asleep or not in my room. For days, I caught my stuffed animals doing fun things without me.

It not only made me believe that my prayers were answered and stuffed animals were given the gift of life. But now with the power to think, they decided that they disliked me so much that they would rather freeze and waste this magnificent gift than to have to suffer through even one minute talking and playing with me. She just watched and laughed as I cried and pleaded to my toys to be my friends and to just give me a chance.

EricksA2

74. Park It

I live in an apartment building that has end-to-end parking for two spaces per apartment, and access to the parking levels (1-5) are done via a locked automatic roller door, which people can only get through if they have a remote for it (or sneak through behind someone else). I only have a single car, and sometimes I let my friends park in the space in front of my car if they give me notice, so I generally park at the back of the double space.

Earlier this year, a random car began parking in front of mine on Friday afternoons, meaning I couldn’t go out with my car on Friday nights. Annoying, but not the biggest issue when you live super close to the city. This continued nearly every week over about five weeks when I didn’t park my car at the front of the bay (which I began doing), but times I planned to leave the space free for friends coming over or whatever, the car appeared again.

I made repeated attempts to stop this behavior by leaving notes, which escalated into leaving print outs of a photo of the car with the license plate clearly visible and an explanation that if it happened again I’d press charges and/or have the vehicle towed. Well, it happened again, and this time it was still there Saturday afternoon when I had been planning on going away with a group of my friends.

My guess is, someone went out on Friday and decided to pick up the car “later,,” not concerning themselves with the inconvenience it caused anyone else. It clearly hadn’t moved, as my aggressive note telling them to screw off was still there sitting limply under their wiper blades. I figured enough was enough, it was time to have the vehicle towed.

I called building management and eventually calling a towing company, who refused to help because the space was on the third floor, and they can’t get any trucks up to that level because of the height and space restrictions. Ordinarily, most people would be pretty much screwed at this point, and I will admit I briefly considered sitting on the hood of the car until the jerk came to pick it up while sending my friends on their way without me, but they would have had to work out a new arrangement for transport as one car wouldn’t have cut it.

Fortunately for me however, my parents only live 30 minutes away, and have a garage where I work on one of my cars that’s getting at the tail end of a minor restoration. One of the things I use pretty often is a set of Vehicle Positioning Jacks, to jam my project car right up against the wall of the garage to minimize the space it takes up. For anyone that doesn’t know, Vehicle Positioning Jacks are basically devices that slot under each wheel, then lift the car up on hydraulics so you can free wheel it in any direction.

While I hadn’t originally gone to retrieve them, when I had to take my project car off them, a bright idea came to my head. None of my friends minded spending an extra hour to screw someone over that had interfered with us, so we grabbed the jacks, and went back, propped the car up, and wheeled it out. Six guys can easily move around a small hatchback, so we pushed across the level slowly and carefully, to an area where there isn’t parking, but is a load-supporting pillar with space enough for a car behind it, in a little section of the garage where it isn’t lit, and is completely out of the way.

Typically there’s a guy on my level that parks a motor bike there, but he isn’t meant to, and I doubted he minded. We dumped it between the pillar and the wall, with the nose pointing towards the wall, I took back my angry note, the jacks, and we left to enjoy our weekend. When he came back Monday afternoon after the long weekend, the car was still there, which was no real surprise considering there was only about a foot of space for movement between the pillar and car, and another foot or so between the car and the wall.

From the fact the front wheels had changed, we’re guessing they did try to get it out, unsuccessfully. It eventually went later in the week, though I’m not exactly sure how they managed it. I never saw that car again.

AngryAussieGam3r

75. In Your Face

I had a nasty roommate in college who used my things and ruined them like my nice frying pan, dishes, and some towels. My hand towel was the tip of the iceberg for me because she used it to smear her gobs of makeup off thus leaving me with a pitifully stained towel that angered me to the core. In comes the dirty towel. My boyfriend and I used that towel after doing the nasty.

I wasn’t expecting this to work, but after replacing my towel with this dirty towel, which didn’t look it, I came back to find the next day there were gobby makeup stains all over the towel!

tugehitty

76. Back For More

In fifth grade, my friend who sat in front of me stuck his hand behind him whenever I had snacks. I was happy to share but got annoyed when he stopped asking and just stuck his hand out. So, instead of candy, I dumped pencil and eraser shavings in his hand. He knocked it back and instantly started gagging and spitting.

Neoko

77. Popping Off

When I was a kid, I got the Sabrina the Teenage Witch “Handbook.” It was full of kiddie experiments and stuff, and it was pretty fun. My older sister had upset or annoyed me about something, so I tried out one of the “tricks” from the book. You fill a cup with water and some corn kernels, and put some tinfoil on top of the cup. It worked too well.

The kernels eventually pop and it makes noise against the tinfoil, but it takes a few days to “work.” I put it right under her bed and then I completely forgot about it….until one night I woke up to my two sisters screaming like crazy. It had popped in the middle of the night and she thought there was a rat under her bed.

caca_milis_

78. Remotely Diabolical

I was at a party in high school with my girlfriend. It was her birthday but merged with another girl whose friend was this really rich kid, so we all drove over to his house. Once we got there, we just hung out, played pool, and did other teenage things. But the rich kid’s younger brother kept coming down to bother us.

He had an Xbox controller and a headset on but wanted to ask his brother something. He got mad and then stormed upstairs. So, we’re sitting there just talking, and I noticed the Xbox controller on the ground. A terrible, evil idea popped into my head. I took it and pressed the middle button down for a couple of seconds. Then I pressed up twice and then A, erasing anything he hadn’t saved.

We all heard a scream seconds later, and he went into full tantrum mode. I immediately hid the controller and walked away. He came down so furious but never figured out who did it.

weric91

79. An Apple A Day

I lived next door to a horrid family in Sydney. They made everyone around them miserable by taking what wasn’t theirs, damaging property, and making threats. Our houses were down the street from the train station, so there were always a lot of people walking by at the end of the workday. One day, I was eating an apple. The two girls next door were sitting on their front step, and one was also eating an apple.

With the neighborhood’s bad reputation, people walking through were often wary. A timid-looking girl was walking by carrying her briefcase. When she was close enough, the girl threw her apple really hard and hit her in the back. The poor girl screamed in terror and ran down the street. I looked at my bitten apple then chucked it as hard as I could at the girl sitting on the steps.

It hit her right on her head and exploded. I quickly jumped back so they could not see me struggling not to laugh while they freaked about where the apple came from.

Chunkeeboi

80. Just Desserts

About three years ago, I was working in a pretty big factory. They hired through five different temp services, so the place was pretty much like a revolving door. People came and left without any warning, and sometimes it was hard just to find a familiar face. So when someone started taking my lunches, everyone became a suspect. I fell victim to the Lunch Box Bandit for a week straight, I’m talking about six 12-hour days with no lunch.

Needless to say, the frustration spawned several evil plans, but I felt the Carolina Reaper would give me the fastest and most effective results. All I know was people where gonna think twice before taking lunches. I spent all night making the best steak fajitas for lunch the next day. I finally minced the Reaper peppers into a nice pico de gallo, and topped my devil fajitas off.

I carefully placed my fajitas into a Tupperware bowl, garnished them with cilantro and limes, then covered them with a clear lid to display their beauty. The next morning, about an hour after I placed them in the fridge, a woman started screaming for help. I ran to the lunchroom to find the Lunch Box Bandit laying on the floor gasping for air.

The Reaper peppers triggered an asthma attack, and he had to be rushed to the hospital. He never said anything, and neither did I, until now.

detroityeahdude

81. Cheaters Never Prosper

I knew a crazy kid in elementary school. Kid jumped across the table and tried to choke me out. I instigated it by saying he was “cuckoo for cocoa puffs” since that was the only thing that kid ever talked about and he was wearing a cocoa puffs shirt that day. Senior year of high school, turns out that kid was in my Design class.

I needed to get a C or better on the final. Over the year, I found out the kid was taking my work off my share drive and copying it. For the final, I purposely screwed up the drawing in my folder, but the kid didn’t double check it. He turned it in and failed and had to go back and be a super senior. Too bad for you, my dude.

XIGRIMxREAPERIX

82. Animal Instincts

Years ago, shortly after I graduated high school, I got a new job to support myself during college. The new gig was in a pet store and I was working in the department that sold the fish, aquariums, reptiles, and birds. The store manager was an awesome guy who I will call Kurt. Kurt was an old school guy. He went to work, worked hard, and went home. That’s all he expected out of you as well.

My immediate manager over my department was this large snaggletooth witch of a woman. I’ll call her Stephanie. We got off to a bad start because she quickly found out that I knew more about reptiles than her (she preferred the fish, whereas I had kept snakes for the past 4-5 years). Her ego couldn’t handle a fresh employee not needing her guidance. From then on, she was terrible to me. She singled me out to clean the goldfish tanks, and had the other employees cover sales EVERY day I worked.

She would say rude things to me such as, “you are the weak link in my team, you are the reason I’m having problems in this department.” Fast forward about a year, my hours had been cut by about 25%, and I asked the store manager what the deal was. He told me that our department had lost too much money between lack of sales and broken merchandise, etc.

This puzzled me but I didn’t think much of it because everybody’s hours were cut. Simultaneously, myself and a few co-workers had noticed something strange. Stephanie had recently taken much more interest in the customers. She insisted on helping certain customers and sending us to do busy work while they were there. A customer came in one evening and was talking to us about “how nice Stephanie is…”

Turns out, Stephanie was breeding mice and selling them to customers outside of the store. We actually found out she was breeding all of her animals (her dogs, turtles, mice) and selling them to customers she met through our store. Not only was this taking business from us, our store had a couple of corporate policies, for example we did not feed nor sell mice as live food for snakes, we donated a lot of time and money to shelters, and we condemned breeding dogs and cats for sales.

Stephanie was making money by selling animals to the customers, and all the while her department had hours cut for all of its employees. It didn’t quite make sense, how this was costing us so much money, until one evening I thought I had figured it out. Stephanie was an otherwise lazy woman, but when one of “her” customers came in, she was by their side the whole time.

I watched closely as she followed a customer around, helping them pick out a cart full of expensive aquarium decorations and terrarium supplies like lights and bulbs. I followed and wrote down every item she grabbed. I wanted to see where this went. She directed the customer to a register and went to check them out (she’s lazy, and would never do this for any other customers).

I noted the time and went back to work. I later spoke to other cashiers about Stephanie checking customers out, and they said that she only ever rang up certain customers and she acted weird when they did it. They suspected she was misusing coupons for them or applying hefty discounts. I got my co-workers to corroborate my story about the under the table animal sales and suspicious behavior, and I went to talk to Kurt.

I handed him a paper with about 20 items and the time written on it, and I said, “I think if you look up a transaction from register 2 at this time last night, you will find a large discount applied to it. These are the items I would expect you to find on that transaction.” He was a bit puzzled and I explained everything to him. I told him I didn’t want to make any accusations before because I wasn’t sure, but after seeing her in action I was pretty sure something was going on.

He thanked me and assured me he would look into it. A couple weeks later, I was at work and I noticed Kurt was standing near the door and watching closely. It just so happens Stephanie was coming in for her shift right about that time. The second she walked through the door, he called her over to his office. Apparently waiting in his office was a regional manager from corporate.

He had looked at the list I gave him and looked up transactions from the night before. He found one at the exact time I wrote but it only had about half of the items I listed, but every item that was on the receipt was on the list I gave him. This prompted him to watch her for a few weeks, and in that time frame they found her to be taking “her customers” around shopping, personally taking them up to the register, and scanning every other item.

Then she would put the expensive stuff into the cart without ringing it up. In that time span, she had given away over $1,500 in merchandise. He also looked back at the logs we keep for broken merchandise that is written off and found an excessive amount of aquarium supplies and decorations that were signed off by her. It was something like 1000% more written-off broken merchandise than was found at the same time last quarter.

All in all, she was charged with defrauding the store in over $3,500 in merchandise, and it just so happened that Kurt had already arranged for officers to meet them after firing her to walk her out. I don’t know if it went any further, but I did watch her get walked out in cuffs with about 20 employees staring, I wish I could have said something, but I had to settle for her making eye contact with me as she walked out, to which I gave her a quick wink.

mcnew

83. Prank King Dethroned

Back when I was studying engineering, it occurred to me to try and find an app on my iPhone for those Panasonic projectors in lecture rooms. So, I got the app and it just let me connect to the one in the class without a password or anything. I have a friend who is one of those perpetual pranksters, so I knew just what to do with it.

I beam a picture of him onto the projector. The lecturer is just talking away and this goofy picture of my friend is on the screen. Lecturer does not realize yet. People in the lecture start waking up and giggling a bit. Now I use the pen function and draw a wiener on the picture, too. My friend was red in the face and trying to hide.

When the lecturer finally noticed, he totally called out my friend: “Michael, why is there a picture of you on the screen?” For a fleeting moment, I actually wrecked that dude.

permalink

84. Man Down, Somebody Call An Ambulance

My uncle is an Indian doctor. In the 90s, there was a massive doctor shortage in Australia, so the government gave him citizenship. Unfortunately, you still had to sit three expensive exams to work as a doctor in Australia. These exams cost thousands of dollars, only happened twice a year, had limited sitting spots/times and had arbitrary pass/fail marks.

So many Indian doctors ended up becoming taxi drivers/small businessmen, etc. My uncle decided instead he would reapply and go through Australian medical school. Sure enough, being a doctor for 10+years makes medical school easy and my uncle was top of his class. He decided since he was already pushing 40 and had a family, he would apply to become family physician instead of applying to be a surgeon like most of his teachers had suggested.

At the time, many desperate foreign doctors were applying for general practitioner residency. They would essentially get treated like garbage. They would be forced to work unpaid overtime. They would not be given proper study time or leave to sit mandatory exams. They would pocket the meals/accommodation/study/leave allowances that you were supposed to be paid by the training college.

They would roster you to work every Saturday/Sunday shift and if you refused, they would give you a bad review and your training would be jeopardized. This mostly happened to foreign doctors, as most of them would be in bad debt and highly desperate for any sort of work. When my uncle graduated, he applied for GP training in a practice that is located within an Indian ethnic enclave so that he would have access to religious food/schools for his kids.

Sure enough, this practice engaged in all of the above issues. My uncle would work every single Saturday shift. During his dedicated “study” time, he would have to come into work. He got reprimanded for not overcharging patients in line with their framework. Worst of all, when my aunt was really sick and hospitalised, they wouldn’t give him any time off to look after her and the kids.

The owner of the clinic was a white GP who was openly prejudiced against Indians, Asians and Aboriginal people (who were a large percentage of the clientele of this clinic). My uncle bided his three years and as soon as his documentation came through, making him a GP, he quit that instant. He went down to the local bank and got a loan to open up his own practice.

All his old patients quickly moved with him to the new practice. The first year he struggled, but his practice quickly became known and word spread. Surprise, surprise, foreign trained doctors actually work well and care about their patients. More patients and more doctors looked to work with my uncle. Within two years, my uncle had a GP practice that had four doctors, two nurses, two trainees and a manager.

His practice easily rivaled his original teachers. He then started two more GP practices with the money he was pulling in. These practices trapped his old teacher’s clinic in a two km triangle. He would advertise heavily and make sure he could take as much business from his old teacher as he could. Within five years, his old teacher’s practice went from hiring six doctors, four nurses and six trainees to just one doctor (his old teacher) and no one else.

His old teacher tried to sell up his practice to other doctors, but no one would purchase it given how successful my uncle’s three surrounding practices were. He then tried to sell it to my uncle, who refused to buy even at a ridiculously low sale price. Instead, he waited for the bank to repossess his old teacher’s clinic…and then purchased it for a bit more money from the bank.

My uncle then re-purposed the building into his main offices from where he runs his other three practices. He made sure to redevelop his old boss’s room into a staff toilets just as one final tribute to the human trash that was his old boss.

bleedybutts

85. How to Buy Love

My boyfriend’s uncle and seven-year-old cousin live upstairs from us. His cousin has a tendency to be a little bratty girl. One day, I was holding her dog when she came over and yanked her from my arms. No more than 20 minutes later, I went out and bought some dog treats. Every day when I come home, I give the dog a treat. Now the dog waits by our door instead of hers.

Dween_Deedles

86. No Such Thing As A Free Ride

I work the night shift as a receptionist at a hotel in Norway, and most nights are spent watching Netflix and playing games. Last summer was really slow and I also worked a lot extra, so I ran out of stuff to watch and games to play. One night, I got an email from “Scooter.” He wanted to book a room for almost 20 days. I just had to send him the price and confirmation that we had rooms available, and he would then send me his credit card info for me to pre-charge.

Normally we just delete these kinds of mail, but I was bored out of my mind, so I responded with an offer for around $2k for the entire stay. I also made sure to inform him that he could cancel for free up until the day of arrival. For your information, this is probably the most common fraud attempt in the Hotel/travel industry.

Unlike most businesses, we are able to charge credit and debit cards with only the card number and expiry date. No need for a pin code or other authorizations methods. Our software also allows us deposit money directly to local and international bank accounts by using the card number. Because of this, people like Scooter will try to prepay with stolen cards, but then cancel the booking and ask us to refund the amount to a different card.

A couple of hours after sending him the offer, he responded with a Visa number and told me to charge him as soon as possible. I checked the card with our validation software, and to my big surprise it did not belong to Scooter. If validation succeeds, it will return with the card owner’s name 90% of the time. I sent him a new mail stating that the card was declined because of insufficient funds.

He quickly replied and gave me a new card to try. Guess what, this one didn’t belong to Scooter either. It wasn’t even the same person as the first card. By checking the Bin codes, (6 first digits) I found which banks had issued the cards. Not even issued in the same country…My plan was to just call the banks and inform them of the attempted scam, but there were still several hours before I could go home, so I decided to screw with Scooter a bit more.

I sent him a reply that the second card went through, and also the “reference number” for his stay at our hotel. As expected, a couple of hours later, Scooter sent an email cancelling the order and asked if we could refund the money to a different card, as he had lost his wallet and deactivated the card he paid with. This card was issued from a Polish bank.

Not sure why, but Polish bank accounts are often used by people who want to launder money from bitcoins and illicit substances. You can buy a legit card for around $500 that is registered to some guy or girl in Poland from darknet. At this point, Scooter was probably pretty happy about the $2k he soon would receive. I replied that it was no problem for me to transfer the money to a different card, as long as it was valid.

How fun would it be to also cancel his “own” card, so that he had to spend $500 for a new one? Not. Fun. Enough. In the last mail I wrote that he could send me the card number, but that our e-mail server would go down for maintenance in a few minutes, so my boss would do it on Monday. It was now Saturday morning, so enough time for the “charged” bank to call us and reverse the transfer.

If he needed the money right away, I told him to call the hotel before I ended my shift at 7 am. He called almost immediately, and I wrote down the card number and his phone number. I told him I transferred the money, and that it would be in his account by noon. My shift ended, and I went home with all the information Scooter had provided.

I wanted to see if I could find out who he was, and of course this idiot had an open Facebook profile that I found using his phone number. He even listed his address and employer. He lived somewhere outside of London, in an area I would describe as a British trailer park. Houses that where nice at some point, but where the owners had spent no money on maintenance since it was built.

Trash everywhere, and broken windows that were boarded up or “fixed” by sealing holes with garbage. Now to the fun part. According to his FB profile, Scooter worked at a hotel! This meant that he would have access to card information from guests that booked through sites like Booking.com. I called the manager of the hotel and told him there was reason to believe that one of his employees was trying to commit credit card fraud, and that the card numbers could belong to their guests.

I gave him the name of the people who owned the cards Scooter tried to pay with, and to no surprise both had stayed at the hotel. I told him it was Scooter, and the manager just exploded in anger. Not 100% sure what he said because he was screaming so loud, but I think Scooter wasn’t a normal employee. He worked there through some kind of government training program or something.

After talking to the manager, I called both Visa and MasterCard international and told them about Scooter’s little business venture. Apparently it’s pretty easy to check if there are more cards that have been involved. The authorities also called me later to get a statement regarding the whole situation, so I know that the manager reported it. Not sure what happened to Scooter, but according to his Facebook profile, he no longer works at the hotel.

BoredHotelWorker

87. Pity Puddle

When I was a kid, I had a bed wetting problem. I’m not ashamed of this now, as thousands of other kids have had the same problems. At the time, however, it was humiliating. Even worse, my younger brother started telling other kids around school how extensive the issue was. I was mortified. Even after our mother told him to knock it off, he continued.

So, I decided to level the playing field. The whole “hand in a cup of warm water” deal didn’t work. So I stood over him as he slept one night and peed on him. The next morning, my mom thought we were both wetting the bed. After a few more times of “framing” my brother as a bed-wetter, he completely stopped using my embarrassing problem as entertainment.

hardybe

88. Keep This Under Wraps

I worked in a fish factory most summers when I was in my teens, and there was a boy who also worked there one summer who was a jerk and a harasser. Myself and another girl were his main targets, and he’d pelt us with really disgusting verbal harassment that was inappropriate and race-based in nature, since the other girl mixed-race.

It got so bad, he would even yell his insults over the factory announcement system whenever he didn’t have enough work to keep him busy. To make matters worse, the foreman refused to get involved…so we took action. One day, we finished work before he did, and spotted his car out in the parking lot. We looked at each other deviously.

We went back into the building, got several rolls of toilet paper and a packet of menstrual pads, and “decorated” the car with them. The car was seen by many of our co-workers, some of whom also witnessed the decorating and cheered us on. Once he got out, he just stood there, blushing and embarrassed and wondering who could have done this to him.

He was very subdued at work after that and the teasing nearly stopped entirely, I hope because what we did made him realize what it felt like to be on the victim’s end of all the teasing. Best thing about it was that everyone, including his own brother, knew who had done it, and no-one told him. Clearly, this was an overdue lesson.

Netla

89. Special Delivery!

In college, I lived with several guys in a suite. One dude liked to call me “chunky A.” Yes, I was chubby, and I still am, but I have lost a lot of weight and I am continuing to lose more. Still, at the time I was self-conscious about it and I asked him politely but firmly to not call me that. He laughed and did it more. That was the final straw.

I proceeded to call up every infomercial I saw on TV to send him baldness cures (he was losing his hair), tourist information from places like Iowa and Nebraska, and information about adult bedwetting. He was not too impressed when the mail started coming in. He accused me of it, but I played innocent. And then I took it up a notch.

I kept it up for two years while he lived there in the dorms. His junior year, he moved out to an off-campus place, so I found out where he lived. I then waited a couple of months and started the process all over again. Yeah, I bombarded him with junk mail. It was probably the most savage thing I’ve ever done. I have no regrets.

Tsquare43

90. Bro, You Can Tell Me Anything

Back in college, I was sitting in the library trying to work on an assignment. All was quiet for a while, until this one obnoxious guy came in and sat at a table near me. He proceeded to pull out his phone and have the loudest, most obnoxious conversation with one of his friends. Lots of “BRO, SERIOUSLY BRO?” and yadda yadda.

I was about to pack up my things and find somewhere else to work when the conversation turned to Netflix. The guy told his friend he should just use his account and proceeded to loudly state his email address and password for all in the room to hear. Obviously, this was too good of an opportunity for me to pass up.

So, I promptly logged into his Netflix account and navigated to the “LGBT” section and started adding the gayest movies I could find to the top of the queue. I like to think that both the guys ended up thinking the other one added the movies to the queue but were too shocked to ever say anything to each other.

yeahhtrue

91. So Done

Back in the early 90s, supermarket cashiers had to type every price in by hand. I was at a grocery store, walking toward the only open check stand with a single bottle of soda in my hand. Suddenly, this hoity-toity lady with a cart stacked to the top flew out of one of the aisles like a freight train and cut me off.

“I’m in a hurry,” she said, then looked away like she was annoyed that I’d even been born. I looked at the cashier. He rolled his eyes and got back to work. Five minutes later, she’s walking out the door and it’s my turn to check out. What the cashier told me made my fist pump. “You’re good,” he says. “I put your soda on her tag.” Man, that felt good.

Irishzombieman

92. Music To My Ears

My sister said some pretty mean things to me in front of my friends when I was younger. I really didn’t take it too well, and knew I had to get revenge. So, I put a slice of bologna in her Walkman CD player. I got the idea from Cory in the show That’s So Raven. If you ever read this, thank you very much, Cory.

Kevin_Steak

93. Pennies From Heaven

I occasionally deliver pizza as a part-time job. There is a customer who tends to pay with a big bag of change. I don’t mean a bag full of quarters, I mean a bag full of dimes, nickels, and pennies. Since his meal typically costs about $20, the bag usually weighs several pounds. It is a total pain to count out all of the change.

Typically, drivers will just assume that he has the correct amount and leave. Usually, he has just enough or maybe a few cents over. I don’t think it is an innocent thing either, as he usually gives the bag of change with a dirt-eating grin. It is such a pain that most of the drivers know his address by heart, and avoid going to his house if at all possible.

I was having a bad night, and by the luck of the draw I got this dude’s house. I remembered reading a post involving someone paying in a checkout line with a bag of change, and I knew I could use a similar method to take my frustration out on this guy in the pettiest way possible. So I pulled up to his house and left the pizza in the car.

I rang the doorbell, and when he answered I saw the large bag of change in his hand. He asked where his pizza was and I said, “New policy, sir. Gotta count it out before we can give out the pizza.” So, I sat down on his doorstep and started to count out all of the change. At one point, I even asked if he could turn on his porch light, because I was having a hard time seeing.

He ended up sitting there while I counted out the entire bag of change. He was a dollar over, so I started picking up pennies to give him his change back, and he said that I could keep the rest as a tip. When I gave him his pizza, he sheepishly told me sorry and then shut the door. To my knowledge he hasn’t ordered pizza from us in a while.

thr33beggars

94. Cheaters Never Prosper

I knew my ex-wife was cheating but didn’t tell her that I knew. Took her out for a dinner date and I casually asked questions about who she had been spending time with while I was at sea, she barely worked so she had to spend her time doing something. She failed to mention the guy that had been staying at my house for nearly two months, the guy she had to call the cops on just to get to leave because I was coming home in two days.

So, I slid her a copy of the police report that was filed for the incident and watched as she crumbled over the fact she had been caught, and I didn’t have to say a word.

links311

95. The Cost Of Cheating

We dated for four years and had what I thought was a great relationship. We were both well-established professionals who both owned homes in the same neighborhood and both had daughters in the home. Her daughter was 11, and mine was 16 when we met. We had actually planned to get married, build a house, and raise the two together.

We planned the house build because she had recently been diagnosed with a neurological illness that would eventually put her in a wheelchair, and needed something disability-friendly. During the planning stages, I began doing landscape and construction projects on her home to increase the resale value. All in, I invested roughly $30K into the home, running everything through my side construction business for tax, permitting, and resale purposes.

We had a contract that “payment” would be made upon the sale of the home. I produced invoices for each and every project, but never pushed for payment because of the prior agreement. Fast forward six months, we’re looking at property to develop and finalizing drawings on the home when I began feeling ill. I couldn’t eat, constantly vomiting and passing blood.

I began noticing that my abdomen looked swollen, which was odd because we were both very clean eaters and were in the gym every day. So I went to the doctor and began having tests done. During this time, she began having small cognitive issues, and the stress of her current position was exacerbating her condition, so she took a $20K per anum cut in pay along with a lesser position inside the company.

After a month or so of different tests, and a biopsy, it came back that I had a golf ball-sized tumor in my stomach, and would need to begin chemotherapy. So I began chemo and radiation treatments, which made me, expectedly so, extremely ill. She was spending time helping around my place on the weekends and staying over more, to the point that both her and her daughter were at my home more than theirs.

At this point, I suggested that we go ahead and put one of our houses on the market, and move in together until the new house was built. I have great supplemental insurance as well as a long-term health plan, so using that coupled with the sale of one of our houses would push us through comfortably, and help ease the financial stress on her. This backfired on me horribly.

Shortly after this discussion, she became extremely distant. Her daughter wasn’t coming down and hanging out with mine anymore, and she had excuses for not getting together. She quit driving me to treatments and stopped staying over. She then dropped the truth. A sentence that will forever be burned into my psyche: “I love you, but I can’t see myself taking care of someone this sick in the long-term, and I don’t think we should see each other any longer.”

A. TEXT. It broke me. I won’t lie. This was the first woman I had ever opened up to and planned a life with since my wife passed when my children were 1 and 3. However, I tried to be mature about it. I forced myself to understand her position and to accept what I could not change. I calmly, the next day, gathered all of her things, packed them neatly, loaded them in my truck, and took them to her house to leave on the back porch while she was at work, in order to avoid any awkward exchanges.

Walking around the back and under the porch cover, I sat down on a box, and saw her in her back living room. I wish I could unsee what came next. She was there getting it on with a man that she had introduced to me as a life-long friend. I had once had dinner and drinks with this man and his girlfriend. We had gone on vacation with them as well.

I never spoke of the incident with her, and simply sent her a text later, explaining that I would leave her things on my side porch to pick up at her convenience. I discovered eight or nine months later from his now ex-girlfriend that they had broken up due to him confessing that he had been sleeping with my partner, dating back to about the time we were finishing drawings on the new home.

Now I’m angry. Revenge time. At this point, I had finished chemo and radiation for the time being and was feeling healthier. I was going through some much-neglected paperwork when I ran across the file that contained $32,680.00 in unpaid, long overdue invoices, which were promptly sent to my attorney to begin lien proceedings on the home.

It turns out that I couldn’t have done this a moment too soon because she was set to put her house on the market. Coupled with interest over the course of, what was then, 19 months overdue, the invoices were hefty. That, along with the agreement of settling them when the house was sold and attorney fees, left her with roughly $10K after the sale of the home and settling her current mortgage.

She promptly had to back out of the purchase of another home and moved in with her oldest daughter and two grandchildren. She also had to leave her job and begin receiving disability. I ran into her a little over a year ago, and she looked as if she had aged 20 years, and was in the wheelchair we had talked about. We chatted cordially but briefly and I excused myself and went on with my day.

A few days later, her younger daughter called me and spoke of my running into her mom, and could we hang out sometime. I gave a vague answer, thanked her for calling and again, went on with my day. The ex then called me a week or so later, and began apologizing for leaving me as she did. Again, cordial but short, I thanked her for calling and hung up.

She began texting, and this went on for several weeks until once she asked if I could ever see us rekindling what we had, to which I replied: “I can’t see myself taking care of someone so sick in the long-term. Remember the box on your back porch? Did you think that (life-long friend) brought that over to you from my house? Good luck to you. Goodbye.”

Cordero_Biggs

96. It’s A Nice Day For A White Wedding

When I was 13, so eight years ago, my dad remarried after divorcing my mom four years before. Before the divorce, his fiancée had been his mistress. My mom is completely better off without him, and ignoring the fact that I wouldn’t exist, I don’t think she should have married him in the first place. Even if I think my parents weren’t a good match, that’s no excuse to cheat on your wife.

Even worse, this new woman was horrifically vile in all sorts of ways. She constantly belittled me, made fun of the fact I needed to take pills for my mental illness—despite her being a freaking pharmacist—and was generally awful to my siblings and me. But she was a decade younger than my dad and reasonably hot, so he didn’t care at all how she treated us.

The one time he actually listened to us about her is when they were thinking of having a baby, and my brother said he’d ask our mom to sue for full custody of us if they did. So anyway, they got married. I was a bridesmaid, cause that witch had no real friends. The other two bridesmaids were her sister and my sister. My brother was the best man because she didn’t like my dad’s best friend.

He and my dad still don’t talk to this day, even though the guy was like an uncle to me as a little kid. It was a wedding, though, and everything went normally at first. But at the beginning of the reception, before the first dance, we were taking pictures in front of a chocolate fountain, looking like the happy family we never were and would never be.

I’m on the autism spectrum and have a problem maintaining eye contact. This extends to looking at a camera. So when we had to retake a photo because I wasn’t looking, she leans down and whispers something in my ear. I’m not going to repeat it, but it involved the r-word. I don’t like saying it. I snapped and decided she was going to pay for this.

No one noticed—or at least no one called me out—when I started slowly moving the chocolate fountain towards the edge of the table. When it got to the edge, it makes contact with the back of that pure white wedding dress and slowly drips down. By the time she notices, it looks like she’s pooped herself. But for all anyone else knows, this was an accident.

She has no spare dress, and that stain is not coming out. So first dance, cutting the cake, speeches, everything, this woman has what looks like a poop stain on the back of her dress. It was a small revenge, but it was so worth it. What’s supposed to be the happiest day of this stupid woman’s life, and she’s going to remember that stain every time she thinks about it.

They never did get the stain out. And nobody knew it was me. Until now, I guess. Hi family, if you’re reading this. Suzie, you’re a witch and you deserved that chocolate stain.

katep2000

97. It Didn’t Add up

I interned in a class with this kid who always thought he was smarter than everyone else. He was pretty smart, but not by too much. Yet he always got paired with kids who weren’t as smart as him, so he would always be super smug when dealing with them. During one parent-teacher conference, we found out exactly where he got it from.

His parents thought he was the smartest kid in the school. They built him up as that and they got him thinking it, too. In this meeting, they even went off on the teacher, saying she “was bringing him down” and that she “was terrible.” The conference ended when the teacher left the room crying. But it didn’t take long for sweet revenge.

About a week later, there was an event where parents came to watch their children do math games with other students. Well, the teacher paired this smug little kid with the actual smartest kid in class. The kid got destroyed in the math games. His parents were so flustered, they left before it was all done and took him out of school for the rest of the day.

The14thNoah

98. That’s On You

I film and edit promotional videos, then post them on my company’s YouTube channel. The day after I uploaded a particular run-of-the-mill video, my manager called me into his office because one of our directors, who hates our department and loves undermining me in particular, sent an email to my manager and a few higher-ups. That’s when it got cringey.

In the email, he stated that I had messed up the promo video, because there were “all of these other disgusting videos attached to it.” As proof, he included a screenshot of the end of the video, where all of the recommended videos appeared to star scantily-clad Asian women in suggestive poses. Neither he nor my manager knew how YouTube algorithms worked.

He didn’t realize that the videos were suggested because he, or someone on his account, viewed that kind of content before. I have no idea how my manager explained this to him.

sarcastinymph

99. No Parking Zone

I lived in a duplex that shared one large driveway with another duplex. Parking could be tight, but all of us cooperated and made the best of it, except for one woman. She left a note on my car two days after my husband and I moved in, telling me not to park there because she didn’t like that I was “in front of her door.”

I was at least 15 feet away from her house and that was the only spot I could park in without blocking anyone else. I left her a note back explaining this. She banged on my door at 11 PM and screamed at us, calling me the c-word, and demanding that I get rid of my car. We eventually shut the door on her. The nasty notes persisted and were ignored.

I confirmed with my landlord that this is where I should be parking and he said yes, ignore her. Then, she started barricading that part of the driveway, so that every day when I got home, I would have to get out of my car and move her stuff before I could park. This became a real pain in the neck when I broke my elbow.

She used her trash can, a pedestal with a birdcage on it, and a bench to block the driveway and I had to move all of them to park. I started just picking them up and gently moving them towards her porch. Then she came up with something else. She started putting Vaseline on them. I grabbed her trash can and got a gloppy handful of Vaseline. Sure enough, everything else was coated in it as well.

I decided to use my foot to push everything up against her house. Mind you, nothing was damaged or knocked over, just moved. She called law enforcement and reported that she saw me vandalizing her things by picking them up and throwing them into her house, kicking stuff over, and smashing them into the ground. The officer was angry.

He thought that I was the teenage girlfriend of the guy who lived there, not the adult leaseholder. So he pounded on the door yelling, “Sheriff’s department! Come outside!” We went outside. He pointed to me and asked, “Are you the girlfriend!?” I resisted the urge to say something snarky in response to what I found to be a misogynistic and demeaning statement.

He went off on me saying, “Your behavior needs to stop right now, I don’t know where you’re from, but in [town] we do not tolerate this kind of disrespect blah blah blah!” Well, he didn’t know what he was in for. 15 minutes later, once we’d gotten a word in edgewise, he changed his tune pretty quick. He realized he’d been misled by our neighbor. We told him we were sorry he got dragged into a petty parking dispute.

He told us he’s been dragged into stupider stuff and told us that if she puts up the barricades again, to call them instead of moving it ourselves, to protect ourselves from false allegations. In fact, he wanted us to call any time she does anything to harass us. She also received a mean letter from the landlord telling her to knock it off.

We got a mean note from her saying, “The reason I don’t want you parking by my door is because you are trash! Your druggie psychopath girlfriend runs amok vandalizing! I want nothing to do with you,” among other things. We called law enforcement and she got spoken to by them, and the landlord sent her another mean letter. Hopefully, that’ll be the end of it.

stuck_at_starbucks

100. Simple Physics

I remember having to defend myself on a speeding accusation. I had footage of the dashcam, which clearly showed me not speeding. I was going 30 mph, but the officer claimed I was driving 50 mph. The dashcam footage showed him driving at 40 mph and catching up to me fairly quickly. That’s when he decided to pipe in and make a fool of himself.

He asked, “If you were really going 30, then why did I have to go 40 to catch up to you?” I responded, “Because in order to catch up to anything, you have to go faster than what you’re following. If I was going 50, you would have never caught up to me while going 40.”

RpTheHotrod

101. Keep Your Friends Close…

I suspected that my wife was cheating on me with a co-worker. I confronted both who responded by calling me a jealous husband. They were just best friends and I needed to understand that. So, I befriended him, became his workout partner, and learned everything I could about him. I’d even invited him to my dinner table.

Physical revenge was often considered, but neither he nor she was worth me spending a life sentence in prison for. I played dumb. He was a bodybuilder and taking steroids. He wasn’t incredibly smart and had just barely gotten through college. And he was working minimum pay jobs while he worked towards his true desire.

He was applying for the firefighter school in our major metro city. If accepted, it would be a lifetime job for him and a career he’d wanted since he was young. He talked often during our workout sessions about how much it meant to him. I have had countless EMS and fire department contacts through my healthcare career.

He also knew I was knowledgeable about medicine. After he started to ask questions about steroids, I made sure to give him just enough info to have him want to ask me more. I then made sure he started emailing me his steroid questions. Ironically, he used an account that even had his full name in the address.

After a private investigator confirmed the affair, I moved my plan into action. So, when I was ready to leave my wife, I contacted several of the FD officers who sat on the review board. I gave them the emails from one of their candidates admitting he was using substances and lied about it during the interview process. He was slated to be a part of the incoming class as he’d done quite well. But he was rejected.

I used my contacts in the EMS community to make sure that he’d never be accepted to a major fire department within a 200-mile radius. He and my wife took my dream marriage, so I took something that had just a profound effect.

Patient_Man

Sources: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

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