People Reveal Their Heinous Revenge Stories
16. He Lost Everything He Had And I Sleep Like A Baby
“In 1990 when I was just out of middle school and my sister was still in elementary, my dad met his third wife at the only gas station in our town. They soon moved in together, and my dad abandoned us in our basement apartment to live on a shanty houseboat, that didn’t run, to live with her.
He would show up every other week and give me $40 for groceries. Eventually, someone figured out the situation and called my mom. We went to live with her which was, believe it or not, worse.
My dad and his shanty wife got married in 1991. Not long after, she called me and told me my dad’s brain tumor had returned (it hadn’t) and that he couldn’t handle the stress of being around us.
That the only people he could bear to be around was her, and her son, ‘Shorty,’ who was my age. When I called my dad to ask if this was true, he said it wasn’t, and he just couldn’t believe that she would say that, to begin with.
That was one of our last conversations until two years ago.
I worked my way through college, living in my car from time to time. My dad and I were no contact, but I heard from family that he’d bought a house and put his ‘son’ through some vocational classes.
When my grandmother died, Shorty and Shanty Wife showed up in a truck and took all the furniture and anything else that wasn’t tied down or already gone. Eventually, I went no contact with my dad’s side of the family. I struggled for years, decades really, but I made it.
And I have a great job and a good family now. The best revenge is living well, right?
Two years ago (Oct 2019) I got a call from my dad’s brother, ‘Allen.’ He told me my dad was in a nursing home in another state (great!) and I needed to go see him because he needed my help.
Shorty had ghosted him (HAHAHA!). The nursing home, coincidentally, was about 20 minutes from my house. And I saw an opportunity and I went.
The reunion was underwhelming. I didn’t want to make amends, but I DID want to hear how he wound up dumped and all alone in another state.
And it was a really, really good story. Shanty’s Wife got lung cancer and put my dad in a nursing home before she died in 2017. She suffered, and I was happy to hear it. Shorty became his power of attorney (POA) when she passed away, and had been visiting my dad, living in my dad’s house with his two children, and ‘taking care’ of my dad’s affairs since his mom died. But now he was MIA, and my dad was worried about him.
He asked me to drive the hour and a half to his house to check on everything. That’s all he wanted. He never even asked me how I had been.
I agreed to go; I think out of morbid curiosity. I’d never even been to my dad’s house.
I did want to see where he lived with his ‘real’ family for 30 years. I wanted to see what could have been my life. It was 50 shades of awful. The grass hadn’t been cut all summer. You couldn’t get to the front door for the overgrowth.
There were three pickup trucks in the yard; two were full of trash. Cabs and beds and backseats, just trash. Mail, clothes, paper, shoes, garbage bags. I couldn’t understand it. My dad’s handicapped-modified SUV was on four flats and full of garbage, too.
I didn’t have a key, so I just walked around.
From what windows I could look through, the inside was in shambles and hoarded to the underworld. On the front and carport doors were dozens of notices from the city that they were going to condemn the place. The carport was also hoarded. Boxes and boxes stacked on each other, most rotting from the rain.
The yard was full of garbage. Broken Christmas ornaments, more shoes, rusted tools, old toys. There was a letter in the mailbox notifying him that since the house was abandoned, mail would not be delivered anymore. That night, I googled Powers of Attorney and how to use them.
I went back the next day and showed my (bedbound) dad the pictures on my phone. He vowed to ‘beat Shorty’s but,’ then asked me to help more. I told him I would, but he’d have to sign Power of Attorney over to me.
All of it, durable (financial) and medical. If he didn’t, he could figure this by himself. He agreed, so I set about finding a lawyer who would drive to another state and do the paperwork in the nursing home. Bless that lawyer for being so good at his job, because all I did was tell him what I knew, and he put together a beautifully bulletproof POA.
It was full of stuff I didn’t even know I would need. He also filed the paperwork to revoke Shorty’s POA. And now I’m unstoppable.
We’re from a small, rural town and it’s the kind of creepy, landlocked place that, no matter how long you’ve been gone or how far away you’ve been, when you go back, you’ll see someone you know.
Even if you don’t know you know them. It’s like playing Seven Degrees of Everybody, all the time. It’s suffocating. But it can also be helpful.
I got to work the next morning. I didn’t know how scorched the earth would be when I finished, and I didn’t want Shorty or anyone from his prolific, inbred family trying to find me, so I made sure nothing I did had my name on it.
I opened a google account for my dad and got a google number. I opened a PO Box for him in his town. I put in a mail forwarding notice. I pulled his credit report. I took the POA to my dad’s small-town bank, changed the address on his accounts, and got new account numbers.
I requested copies of every transaction back to the day Shanty Wife had died (about 13 months worth). I had to go to the main branch, two hours from my house, the next day to pick the records up. I sat in the lobby all afternoon, going through the account.
I cornered a service rep and got a crash course in his debits and deposits. This is when I figured out the extent of Shorty’s staggering stupidity.
My dad got about $5K a month in disability and social security month. Twice a week, Shorty was going INTO a branch and withdrawing cash.
ALL of the cash. For 13 months. And every time he did it, as the POA, he had to sign a form stating that he was acting on behalf of my dad, and that form was notarized by the bank. I went through every withdrawal and got the bank to confirm that every one of them was made by Shorty.
Then I went to the house and called a locksmith. I knew it was bad, but I had no idea what was waiting for me there. He got the first door open, and the stench rolled out like a fog bank. We both gagged. Two locks later, I was so embarrassed by what he had to see and smell, I gave him a $60 tip.
And, with shiny new keys in hand, I called the cops. I told them I was POA for my dad, was checking on his house, and there were three vehicles there that didn’t belong to him. He asked me if I knew who they belonged to.
I said no, and I wanted them towed. He told me to call a tow company and he would meet them there.
They showed up with two wreckers. The tow truck guy got out and asked me for a signature. I only signed my first name.
As I was signing, he asked, ‘Do you know Shorty?’ Running on pure hatred at this point, I surprised myself. ‘Do you?’ I asked. He said he did, and that ‘… he’s a jerk.’ I responded, ‘He might be. Hey, can you do me a favor?
If you see him, will you tell him MNWNM is coming for him?’ His bravado evaporated. He knows a crazy witch when he sees one. They towed the trucks.
When everyone was gone, I opened the door in the carport to peek in. The sun was going down and it was dark in the house.
I heard something faint, and after some seconds realized it was the roaches and the rats doing their roach and rat stuff. I could smell it all in my hair.
I sat on the carport steps and watched the sun go down. I was mad.
Just so cosmically LIVID that 72 hours was all it took to dissolve three decades and here I was, stinking and listening to the rats and cleaning everyone else’s crap up. Taking time away from my family, and for what?
I had a coming-to-Jesus with myself; I could either bow out now or double down.
And the thing is, I’m tenacious. To a fault. I had to be to survive, and this was a bone I couldn’t put down. The thought of Shorty’s life being upended, his only source of income (probably) disappearing literally overnight, and my dad having to hear, second-hand FROM ME, that he’s broke and alone, made me absolutely giddy.
I desperately wanted them both to lose what they had left. So, I decided I was going to triple dog down. That night, I googled restraining orders.
And it was surprisingly easy to get one! I went to the courthouse in my hometown, went to the clerk’s office, and told her I needed a restraining order.
I filled the form in at a rickety little table while I was there. I wasn’t prepared to see a judge that day, but she took the form and said ‘OK, I’ll see if the judge is still here.’ That kind of scared me.
She took me to his chambers, and as I was waiting, I looked around and saw he had certificates of appreciation hanging up from various veteran groups. Then I wiped my palms and thought, ‘Fish in a barrel.’ He asked about my dad’s stint in the Marines, and about the DoD office logo on my sweater (I’m a contractor).
He read my form and granted me the temporary order. I would have to go back for the permanent one, where Shorty would be able to argue against it. Then I went home and googled biohazard companies and elder abuse statutes in my state.
I hired a biohazard company to shovel all out of the house for $7K.
I would have paid double. They found my dad’s mummified dog under some pizza boxes in the master bedroom. They sent me pictures and salvaged some papers. Shorty was served during this time, and a hearing was set. I got to work collecting and documenting things.
I made pictures and spreadsheets and timelines with cross-references because screw it, now they had my full attention. (The paid versions of Truthfinder and Trello seriously got me through all this.) In my spare time, I went to the nursing home and gave my dad 8×10 copies of the pictures of his dead dog.
From every angle.
Before the court, I went to the police station nearby and told them I wanted to report an elder abuse crime. A ‘white collar’ detective came out and told me it was a domestic matter and that since Shorty had been POA, everything he had done was legal.
And this was the day I got to teach a small-town detective about the fiduciary responsibilities of a POA. Thanks for googling! I handed him a copy of the statute with the applicable sections highlighted. Then I handed him a thick folder with bank statements, pictures of the hoarded house and dead dog, a copy of my dad’s credit report that showed he was tens and tens of thousands of dollars in debt, and a spreadsheet listing every withdrawal with a running total of the stolen amounts.
The grand total was just over $130K in full. That’s not including the lost value of the house or the credit cards he opened and used. I told him he could keep that folder since it wasn’t the only one I had. Then I told him I would wait for a case number, and I sat down.
He came back about 30 minutes later and apologized, said I had a case, and gave me a case number. Then I headed over to the courthouse.
There were other people there and I had to wait my turn. And while I was waiting, that stupid idiot schlepped his sloppy butt into the courtroom, by himself and obviously, literally, non-metaphorically, dirty.
His shoes were untied and that turned my giggle box over. Then it was our turn and we stood up. The (same) judge asked me some questions, asked him some questions, and asked me if I had any proof. I had a very thick folder of it.
The judge asked me if I had gone to the police. Well yes, sir, I have. Do you have a case number? As a matter of fact… The order was granted, permanently and for life, but not before the judge halted proceedings and told Shorty he needed a lawyer.
Someone told me that the courthouse would have a copy of my dad’s DD214 (discharge papers) so while I was there, I got a copy of those, because why not? I also used my POA to take Shanty Wife off the deed to the house.
That way, if my dad passed away and it went into probate, Shorty had no immediate claim. I also went and got copies of my dad’s birth certificate and Shanty Wife’s death certificate. Technically, stepchildren can’t request that info, but the clerk who waited on me recognized my dad’s name and told me she lost her virginity to my uncle Allen in the 60s and went to my grandparent’s funeral. So I got all the forms I wanted.
Shanty’s wife left my dad $50K in life insurance. About $35K of that was left since Shorty was spending my dad’s and not his mom’s. So I opened an Ally account and transferred every penny over. Then I set up recurring transfers for the monthly deposits.
At any given time, there was no more than $100 in his account. I also found a house flipper that paid me enough for the house to pay off his mortgage. That’s the thing about probate, there’s nothing to fight over it (there’s nothing there.) And I made sure there was NOTHING there.
My dad died thinking he still owned a house.
Speaking of which, this is about the time I found my dad’s life insurance policies. They were up to date, and Shanty Wife was the beneficiary. My POA didn’t allow me to change beneficiaries, but it allowed me to assign them, and since Shanty Wife was gone, there was technically no beneficiary.
This is where the death certificates came in handy! I assigned my sister and me as beneficiaries. Irrevocable, too, which means that the only way to change that is for my dad AND me AND my sister to agree to it.
I kept my dad in the dark about all this.
The only thing he ever really knew about was the restraining order and his dog. I found out that he had purchased the gravesite next to Shanty Wife and wanted to be buried next to her. That was just never going to happen. I googled national cemeteries and found out he qualified to be in one since he was a disabled Vietnam-era veteran.
So I arranged for that, instead.
My dad passed away in June this year and I was there. He’s buried in a National Cemetery far away where no one will ever go visit him. The only obituary I ran was on the funeral home’s website and that was only for insurance purposes.
I wrote it as vague as possible. There was no service. His urn is purple, the color he hated most.
I got a call in August from the prosecutor’s office in my hometown. The lady on the other end is married to my first cousin because of course, she is; that’s how it works there.
Shorty was arrested just after midnight on July 1st, was still in jail, and had been arraigned on felony elder abuse charges. He’s facing 10 years in FPMITA prison. She told me not to expect the trial any time soon, as it can take up to three years for that to happen.
I told her that was awesome since the uncertainty will hopefully haunt him. And after all that, he’s still got prison to look forward to!
He lost his kids. He lost his ‘dad.’ I’m spending his mom’s cancer money. He lost his free house and trucks.
He has no credit and will never be able to get any sort of decent job and will, hopefully for a long time, not be able to find a decent place to live.
And I sleep like a baby.”
15. Become Unfaithful? Get Deported, Arrested, And Say Goodbye To Your Child
“My ex and I are both native-born citizens of the same country in North America. We got together when I was still in post-secondary working towards my degree, and he was taking some time before he started post-secondary to work and save up money.
Our relationship was basically perfect from my perspective; we had similar goals and expectations, we both seemed mature and able to work through any problems we had, and we both were happy to be together and enjoyed each other’s personalities.
We were together for three years before this incident.
Our relationship hit a bit of a rough patch though when he told me he wanted to study for his degree at a University in Europe. I, of course, was a little bit upset because it meant that we would be apart for four years (my job field (medical) would require me to retake schooling if I was to go with him), but he was super excited about it and we determined that we loved each other and no amount of distance could change that.
With time I graduated and got my dream job, and I could now afford to rent our shared apartment with just my income, so I didn’t have to move when he was no longer there to pay his half. He was having some problems with his student visa for the country, but it was determined that he could get a temporary visa for the first semester while we waited for the other one to be approved. So with that, he left. I remember balling my eyes out at the airport when I hugged and kissed him goodbye, and parked outside of the airport to watch his plane take off.
We talked on the phone almost every night.
As unlucky as it was, about five weeks after he left, I found out I was pregnant. Horrible timing, I know. When I told him I was pregnant he immediately accused me of lying to him while he was gone.
I thought it was a bit odd, since he had never even mentioned such a thing, and it seemed really out of the blue. That obviously lead to a big fight, and I felt offended and disgusted that he would even consider it a possibility.
When he came home for Christmas, he was super happy and love-dove with me, saying he was excited. He even proposed to me on the car ride home from his parents’ house on Christmas eve. I was so happy and overjoyed that it felt like everything would work out okay.
When he went back to school, it was again stressful to go through the pregnancy without him, but both his parents and mine were incredibly supportive. They helped me get everything I needed for the baby and even threw me a surprise baby shower.
When I gave birth, my ex watched it over skype from his mom.
When he finished his exams, he came home to be with us. He immediately started talking negatively about our daughter, saying things like ‘why is her hair that color? My hair is brown’ and ‘doesn’t she have (your friend’s) eyes?’ and he again accused me of lying.
So I reluctantly agreed to perform a paternity test to calm his suspicions. Wow, could you believe it, she was his. He agreed to pay informal child support (sending me to pay for the baby without a lawful order to do so) while he was overseas.
Now for the fun part.
His student visa had still not been approved, so he had to reapply for another temporary semester visa for the next semester. Since he did not have a permanent residence in the country, as he was staying in student accommodations, and he didn’t trust the university to not go through official-looking mail, he redirected all of his mail to me, which I would forward to the university in his care packages.
When he came to visit us, he had applied for a new passport, as he was going to expire in six months. I was tasked with picking it up at the office and sending it forward. However, around midterm exam season, I decided our daughter and I would travel to deliver the care package in person and visit.
I had to get her an infant passport and book the tickets, but a couple of months later we were getting on a plane. Side note – traveling with a baby sucks and I’m sorry to everyone else on the plane.
When we got to the country, I settled into our hotel but was too eager to see him.
I taxied to his university (only about 45 minutes from the airport) and went to his dorm room on campus. I knocked on the door, holding our daughter. A woman answered the door. At first, I assumed it was his roommate or something, but I don’t remember him mentioning he had one.
Denial is a powerful thing, I guess. I asked her where he was, and she said he was inside and called out to him. I heard a ‘who is it, babe?’ as he came to the door, and when he saw me, he froze.
He went pale and his eyes widened. The woman asked him ‘Honey, who is this?’ and I just turned and walked away.
He called out after me and eventually caught up with me. He basically told me that he’s been so lonely without me and he couldn’t help it and that he loved me and not her, to which she started yelling at him calling him a pig and stuff.
My baby started crying because I was crying and so I just left without saying anything. I stayed in the hotel for another day, while he continuously called me on my cell phone. I booked last-minute tickets home and left early and ignored them every time he called me.
I gave myself a week to grieve and then I put my big girl pants on. I immediately hired a lawyer and asked him what I could do to legally separate my life from him (in my country we were considered common-law married). My lawyer advised me to begin the legal separation process, and apply for a hearing about custody and child support.
I sent him a thick manila envelope with separation papers and a notice for a hearing about custody in his next package. We talked on the phone on speaker with my lawyer, and he eventually agreed to sign. He sent me a copy. The hearing was scheduled while school was in session, so no surprise he didn’t show up.
I won full custody and he was given an order to pay child support appropriate for his income (he was paying for his college with a grant mostly, so he had to pay based on the grant).
Now, this is some revenge, but it went a little further.
Remember when I went to see him, I was bringing a care package? That package contained his new passport. His passport expired, and he was still in Europe, so he couldn’t travel back to our home country legally. He yelled at me on the phone to send him the passport, but I got an idea.
He hadn’t been paying the child support, probably because he couldn’t afford it with tuition and wasn’t working, so he had a warrant for his arrest in my home country because of it (contempt of court, or something). And he had never been approved for a student visa, only the temporary one.
And since his final exam concluded and it was summer, he technically wasn’t supposed to be in Europe. BUT he couldn’t travel home because he didn’t have a passport. It would be a shame if someone anonymously reported him to the embassy for overstaying his visa, now wouldn’t it?
He got deported back to our home country, where he was arrested at the border. I don’t know exactly what happened, but he spent a couple of months on probation and with a criminal record, can no longer apply for a visa of any kind to study abroad.
Sorry about that future of yours, but I guess you shouldn’t lie to someone who loves you to the ends of the earth, the mother of your child. Have a nice life, because we sure will. Oh, and don’t forget to put that cheque in the mail, it’s paying for a little girl’s future education.”
14. Insult My Daughter? I'll End Your Marriage
“So my daughter (15) has been friends with a girl who lives opposite for years now and in the past, there have been sleepovers at both our houses, adults always stopped and chatted when we saw each other, etc.
Last year my daughter came out as a lesbian and a short while later we noticed that our friends across the road never seemed to want to chat anymore. Recently my daughter told me her friend had messaged her to say that she wasn’t allowed around our house anymore.
Yesterday I saw them on the road and I decided I was going to have a friendly chat with them and see if I could resolve the issue.
It didn’t stay friendly very long.
Jerk dad was acting oddly agitated when I brought it up and ended up saying ‘I’m not letting your queer daughter try and do stuff to (redacted).
Just because you raised a freak doesn’t mean we all have to like it.’
(side note for anyone who doesn’t know: although the term ‘queer’ has been somewhat reclaimed by the lgtbq+ community in recent years it has a long history of being used as a homophobic slur and jerk dad definitely wasn’t using it as an ally).
Now, for the next part it’s important to know four things:
Jerk dad has been working from home since 2020 started.
His wife hasn’t and works each day.
I have been working from home due to an injury for a few weeks now.
I’ve seen the woman who visits for a few hours a couple of times a week and I’ve seen him smack her butt as she leaves.
I stay nice and calm. I take a breath and then I press the button.
I calmly explain to jerk dad that just because my daughter is gay doesn’t mean that she would be trying to make a move on a friend. ‘after all…’ I say, ‘Men and women can be friends without it being inappropriate… Just like you and the blonde girl who keeps coming round.’
He got pretty mad and called me some amazing names as his wife stomped back to their house. I’m guessing things got pretty bad as he left the house less than an hour later with a suitcase and a big gym bag and drove off, tires screeching.
I do feel sorry for the daughter if I’m honest and if only for her I did wish afterward I’d kept my mouth shut…
Not sorry for him though.”
13. You Want To Dump Your Trash In My Bin? Good Luck With That
“So I had a new neighbor move in below me 2 months ago and that was around the time I started to notice that my bins were almost always full when I would go to put my rubbish in the bins which were seriously annoying plus he was dumping food waste into my blue recycling bin and on more than one occasion this led to me being forced to travel in a car to my parents’ house to put MY rubbish inside their huge communal bin because there was never any space in my OWN bins…
Cue extreme frustration on a regular basis. So I did what any self-respecting British person would do and promptly called up my (private) landlord to complain about this and to ask why they did not have a bin of their own!? To which the person on the phone proceeded to explain that a few years back someone living at the property below me had set fire to both of their bins and neither they nor my landlord had bothered to get them replaced so when this new tenant moved in he just found that he had no bins for his rubbish.
Did he call the council to request some bins for himself? Did he knock on my door to at least have the courtesy to ask if he can use my bins until he gets some of his own? NO! He just decided to use my bins as if they were his own and he just assumed I would tolerate this!
How wrong he was!
So after my conversation with the people working at my landlord’s office, they proceeded to send out letters to all the properties surrounding mine (because they apparently couldn’t directly accuse my neighbor below without proof it was him doing it) giving everyone a stern warning that they should use their own bins and not others and that it was frowned upon…
A week goes by and my bin is STILL being used by the buffoon living below me so I ring them up again and ask what they are going to do because the letter hasn’t had any effect and once again I still can’t deposit MY rubbish in MY bin because it was full of someone else’s trash AGAIN!
They just proceed to give me the runaround and long story short they were all bark and no bite and were not willing to get off their butts and fix the darn problem!!!
So, by this point, it has been 2 months and I am THOROUGHLY fed up with this so I decide to take action!
I contact my dad and we have a brainstorm and come up with a plan! Cue a drive to the local B&Q hardware store to buy supplies and a drive to get his tools and then back to my house to put the plan into action!
We decide to cut a hole out of the top of the lid and in the side of the bin on both bins, we put a thick strong chain through the holes to secure the lids shut and then bolted the chains together with a thick strong padlock on both bins!
Take THAT annoying neighbor! Now he is someone else’s problem and I finally have space for my OWN rubbish in my OWN bin! Peace has been restored and all is right in the world of bins!”
12. Rush Me As I Prepare Your Food? I'll Waste Your Time
“I worked in fast food for years.
I was a manager at a popular fast-food chain, and the chain I worked at was kinda relaxed about a lot of things.
During lunch/dinner rush, our drive through (DT) was packed, with no less than 10 cars waiting at a time and our lobby was just as busy with a line to the door.
I would cover DT because it was simpler for a manager to be in. After all, we had a manager card that corrected or add things to the order if they decided to add something at the window.
At least four times a shift I would have people yell at me while they were at the speaker that the line was going too slow (my DT times were top three out of all the stores in the city every shift meaning our line moved faster than the other 23 or 25 stores).
When they get to the window they’d complain some more than ‘I’m late for work’ or ‘the drive-through is supposed to be faster than going in’ or stuff like that.
When you pay with a card be it credit or debit two receipts will always print out, one that has a signature line and one that says customer copy.
We had to collect every receipt throughout the day so we could put them designated by months in a box in the office, and three months later toss it. No receipt needed to be signed, it was just there from when credit cards were still new and no one bothered to change it for the last thirty years.
Basically, if you were rude or in a rush and pushy, I would take my time for the receipt to print, tell them I needed a signature, and then fumble for a pen for like a minute and then have them sign it. Again, it didn’t need to be signed, and I only did it to jerks and every time they’d get upset with me because ‘this has already taken forever’.
I never broke my smile or upbeat demeanor, I never raised my voice, I never talked down to a customer. I simply wasted an additional minute or two of their time.
Eventually, I told my boss about how I did that, and it became this unofficial store policy to make jerks sign their receipts.”
11. Kick Me Out And Get Me Arrested? I'll Come Back Wiser
“I live in the UK and grew up with Autism Spectrum Disorder. I was originally diagnosed with DAMPS when I was younger, but received an official autism diagnosis at 18, after being on the waiting list since 16.
I don’t know much about what schooling is like in America, but in the UK, age 16 (year 11) is when people take their GCSEs, which are essentially the first kind of exams actually required for a job. Since 14, I struggled immensely with the way the school had been teaching me.
I know that teenagers with autism are often perceived as smartarse or pedantic due to miscommunication – those with ASD taking potentially sarcastic, humorous, or rhetorical remarks seriously, etc. I was one of those people, and subsequently, my relationship with teachers became fractious. I really didn’t mean to cause harm, but at the time I was considered very disruptive and I couldn’t comprehend why.
Teachers began taking everything I did as a way of drawing attention to myself, despite wanting to be as far from attention as possible. I had no idea how to socialize, and I received a sustained attempt at bullying from a lot of the staff.
The school itself is an academy, which sounds fancy I guess, but just means that they’re a private company, but it’s not a private school. Anyone can be admitted there free of charge, and they still receive funding from the government. Having said that, they liked to view themselves as elite, and have made a name for themselves as a good academic school.
As such, any lapse in grades or performance is dealt with harshly, and the teachers are actively encouraged to view students in a very impersonal way. I think this is what led to my treatment, as my academic performance was slipping considerably, and the staff would often bring me up on it in a very vindictive way.
I know when a student claims to be bullied, there’s always a notion that they’re over-reacting. Sadly, there’re too many examples to list here, but I promise you it was horrible, and the majority of other students would realize I was being singled out as well.
As you might be able to imagine, that led to some pretty serious mental consequences. I started losing a huge amount of sleep and was unable to connect with any of my classmates. My learning style was very unique but if I was interested in something, I’d absolutely pursue it and learn as much as I could about it.
My problem was that the school was very regimented, and students were expected to learn in a particular way. The staff was mostly lackluster, to say the least about their chosen topics, with some notable exceptions, and I was unmotivated to learn. However much I tried, my performance was slipping considerably and I became incredibly isolated. With the staff vitriol causing more isolation, causing worse performance and mental health, and the cycle continued.
It got to the point where I began to seek alternative ways of managing my stress. I’d already sought out learning support, but the school refused to provide it to me until I had a formal diagnosis of Autism. The school counselor would share information with the school about students, so I couldn’t go there, and I was eventually cornered to the music rooms, where I established myself and played piano. Unfortunately, I was also failing to sleep, sometimes going up to 100 or so hours awake.
This in turn led to less constructive ways of managing my anxiety and mental health. I began using a lot of substances during that time. Whatever your opinion on this is, I don’t want anybody to think that I had any intent on harming others.
This vicious cycle continued quite rapidly, adding all the baggage that came with substance use to it.
Along with piano, one of the ways I spent my time was with cyber security. As mentioned previously, when I’m interested in a topic, I’ll learn absolutely everything about it.
Cyber security was one of those things, and you’d bet I’d be spending most of my time learning and educating myself as much as possible. I started an ethical hacking club at the school, sanctioned by a brilliant IT teacher I liked and ended up teaching lessons for the GCSE and A-Level IT classes.
I don’t want readers to think I’m using my autism as an excuse here, but I was also quite significantly involved in hacking. I didn’t do it for any financial gain, but just to challenge myself. I ended up acquiring credit card numbers, as well as performing a large amount of computer misuse violations.
The problem was that while I had a notion that I was doing wrong, I didn’t have any ability to conceptualize the consequences of my actions. I never sold or passed on the data, and never used the cards, so it was hard for me to understand what problems there were with it at the time.
Like I said, I put this down to Aspergers, but I don’t want anyone to think that I’m trying to excuse my actions.
Anyway, time passed and it grew more and more clear that the school wanted rid of me. They started acting on hear-say from other students, and would commonly bring me in to search me for various illegal stuff.
They were simply looking for an excuse to kick me out and ensure that I didn’t bring the school down in terms of reputation. I became so isolated that the only place I felt safe was in one music room, surrounded by the two other music teachers, with whom I had a good rapport and liked. It was also around this time that a close personal friend of mine, with whom I entrusted all of my difficulties at the time, decided to turn on me and report everything I was doing to the head of the sixth form, who was also the deputy head – an evil woman of epic proportions.
A couple of weeks after this betrayal (and I’m still not sure why this friend did it. I’d really like to know and maybe apologize, but I’ve not spoken to her since for obvious reasons), a girl contacted me looking for an illegal party substance.
I don’t know how much I can reiterate this, and I’m not trying to excuse my behavior, but I never intend for any harm to be had from use. I am of the opinion that those who have their heart set on trying substances will find some way or another to get their hands on it.
This girl was a very close family friend of a said ex-friend who turned on me to the head of sixth. I agreed to provide her with some and went through on message the standard harm reduction stuff. I thought that I’d rather it come from me than somebody else, as I knew the purity and source, and there were some people around selling paracetamol with food dye and other nasty things.
A while after this, I get asked to come to the head of sixth’s office, and what do you know – two police officers are there to greet me with handcuffs and the right to remain silent. I’m arrested for concern about supply of illegal substances, and I’m taken into the back of a police car just as all the other students are walking home.
Anybody who’s been arrested in the UK will know that the ‘one phone call’ thing is total nonsense. I was 17 at the time, and the first thing my parents knew about it was when the police came knocking ready to search my house and room.
They threatened to break my puzzle boxes and spent hours going through my personal belongings. What did they find? Nothing. I was held for about 12 hours before my interview, and I kid you not, my arresting officer had the most ridiculously apt surname. I wish I could tell you what it was.
Anyway, what evidence did they have? Printed screenshots of the messages I’d sent to this girl asking for the illicit substance. It turns out that she’d gone straight to the head of sixth with this information, and that’s all that was needed to get me kicked out.
I understand that I’m touching on some pretty heavy topics here, but I later been told by my other peers that the student in question had intended to harm themselves. I’d ask that you suspend all judgment in regards to this, as I still feel as though there are some contributing factors to why I think this is false.
First of all, I ensured that she didn’t directly have access to the stuff, but her ‘buddy’ for the night she’d be taking them did. I also ensured she didn’t have enough for her plan. The final nail in the coffin though was reliable information I had at the time which suggested that my ex-friend was encouraging her through several steps of this process.
I wasn’t a chemist, and I was very very naive. What I did was, in hindsight, inexcusable. But I had no prior knowledge of her mental health condition at the time, and I found it so so hard to conceptualize risk.
At the same time as this, I was also investigated by the counter-terrorism intelligence unit and police for my involvement in cybercrime.
Needless to say, the whole experience was horrendous.
I remember very little of that time, but the school as an entity acted exceptionally inappropriately. They pushed me into a very dark place mentally, and continue to show no remorse about it. I swear to god every time a police car goes down my road I have a panic attack.
It’s been about 4 years now and I still get exceptionally paranoid.
Whatever your thoughts are about my actions and any of the topics in this story, I promise you wholeheartedly that the school consistently acted in a despicable manner. I know with these stories it’s kind of a custom to paint the revenge victim in a bad light by recanting examples and anecdotes of them being awful.
Honestly, there were too many examples for me to list. Every day was an example, and I’ve lost a solid portion of my memory of that time. I think the worst part was when they banned me from my music room because they thought I was using it to deal, despite no evidence of that actually happening, and there being CCTV and constant supervision there, oh… and the fact I wasn’t dealing but rather using that as a space for me to escape.
Point is, that’s it. They’re horrible, vile, disgusting people in my opinion, and I’m sorry that I can’t provide you with any specific anecdotes. It was just awful.
After I was arrested and kicked out of school, I decided to start my own cyber security company.
I had something positive to look to and put my motivation towards and decided to try to improve my mental state. I’m 21 now and started it while I was on bail (side note should have mentioned I was put on bail for 6 months or so, then released with an NFA for all charges as it wasn’t in the public interest to convict due to my mental state).
The crux of the motivation was that I wanted to ensure that nobody else went through the same experience I did. We currently provide penetration testing, but I specialize now in cybercrime prevention and have liaised with the National Crime Agency, various TV channels inc. ITV and the BBC, and plenty of other regional organized crime units to try to use my experiences to prevent cybercrime, and particularly mental health issues that often go hand in hand with it.
I built the company from scratch and have become one of the leading voices in the UK for cybercrime prevention and cyber security. The story above is something I talk about quite publicly, and my expertise has won me a couple of awards. I’ve spoken on the parliamentary commission for autism, and give as much of my time as possible to autism awareness now.
I’ve even got some awards, which I’m incredibly proud of. Point is, I’m doing well for myself…
Along with my cyber security company, I’m starting up a mental health and awareness charity. The basic idea is that students can anonymously rate their mental health and happiness in school on a website.
This website then collates data from every student at every school and creates a league table of schools based on their mental health. It’s free to students but schools have to pay a monthly subscription to the service. The made by the charity will go towards lobbying for better mental health and well-being valuation by Ofsted. We want to make it a legal requirement for schools to have their students well-being evaluated, and our website is the perfect way to do so.
A nice by-product of this is that if we can get legislation passed that would require mental health evaluation, then we have the perfect website to do so. My old school will be forced to sign up, giving me access to their staff data and (anonymized, obviously) student information.
This will help me build a good portrait of shortcomings in student mental health within the school and ensure others don’t have the same experience that I did.
I’m also looking to set up a fashion brand. Part of being on the spectrum means that I find it very difficult to articulate myself appropriately, as I can’t use non-verbal communication very well.
As a substitute for this, I’ve always found fashion enthralling and a perfect way to communicate my ideas and self-expression. A nice by-product of this one is that I have every intention of buying up or forcing out the people who make the school uniforms for said school, to which I will obviously be given control over their supply.
What else am I doing? Well, with my cyber security company, I’m looking at data handling within scholastic systems. I’ve always loved investigative journalism and have plenty of contacts I’ve made through my work in the public eye, to which I’m currently creating a dossier of every single GDPR, data protection, and child protection violation they’ve made that I know of.
They’ve made huge data protection errors in the past, and I fully intend on holding them to account for it in the best and most effective way I can. I’m currently looking to submit some proposals for mandated cybercrime awareness training in schools. Guess what?
I’ve already written the courseware, and you better believe that I’m going to be charging the old school for my time sitting there teaching them about everything they’ve done wrong, while I release information and an abundance of evidence of their historic shortcomings.
And to top it all off, I don’t believe anybody should be denied the right to learn.
To me, that means extending the courtesy of doing one best to motivate students and incorporate a variety of learning styles. I’ve just written an incredibly well-researched proposal for starting an alternative school. If all goes well, then we’re going to be getting some funding and running it up north.
If that works well, and we see a markable positive change with student learning, then you bet I’m going to be starting one very very close to my old school.
The finale? I have access to their student mental health shortcomings (and when I mean this, obviously it would be totally unethical to look at individual student mental health data.
The website asks how they felt during particular lessons or subjects, and that data anonymized is more than enough. I hope it goes without saying that I’d never use individual student data for my own gains. We don’t actually store personal information on the website anyway, so you don’t have to worry!), I can control their uniform prices, I mandate training that they have to fork out big for, and I display and publish all of their data protection shortcomings.
I then sweep in with an alternative school right next door and take their students and therefore their funding, all while doing my utmost to ensure that every student has a voice, every autistic person has a voice, the school can never do what they did to me to anybody else, I do my best to ensure mental health awareness and wellbeing in school improves, and that everyone can have the right to express themselves through their clothing.”
10. Talk Smack Then Get Caught For Talking Smack? Off You Go!
“This happened a couple of years ago.
I was working at a telephone sales place, helping customers update their telecommunications plans and such. I had been working there a couple of years and had made a friend (F) of a co-worker who had just started, and was shy and rather traumatized from a bad childhood (I have his permission to post this, don’t worry).
As it were, I had taken him under my wing and was helping him get through a lot of little behaviors that were holding him back and training him to be a better salesperson in the process.
The whole fiasco started when this other dude, a jerk coworker (J) found out that F was gay.
He made sure to give him crap about it every day, calling him whatever slurs he could figure out in his tiny brain and trying his best to see F cry, which usually happened, leaving him out of action in the bathroom for 15 minutes and me wanting to punch J’s lights out.
F and I had tried to go to HR, but the HR rep was in with J and would never file any complaints to management, no matter how many times we, or our manager, tried to bring it up. J was family to one of the shareholders, and so was essentially untouchable.
One day, J was talking to one of his co-worker friends about “hooking up”, and a customer on my end heard the conversation in part and declined to stick with me for the sale – which lost me about $200 in commission. I was furious and told him in no uncertain terms to quit his BS He responded to my remark in a snide manner and got even louder and more obnoxious.
This started a plan forming in my mind.
The moment lunch came around, I all but yanked F out of his seat and took him to the local cafe to tell him what happened. There, we formed a plan.
Every time J would talk about inappropriate “hooking up” encounters or any non-office-friendly topic, F or I would ask him politely to stop it.
Which would make him louder and more obnoxious. It didn’t take long before even the manager would tell him to shut up – which he generally did when told by a higher-up. He’s nothing if not a coward in the face of authority figures.
This continued on for about a week until it happened. An announcement came over the intercom asking all sales reps to please end their calls as soon as possible and to turn off incoming calls for the next 30 minutes. Everyone knew this was serious. Something was going down.
Once every rep off called, the CEO of the company barrels into the room, purple in the face. This is normally the guy who was always cheerful and willing to help. This was the dude who gave a man two weeks off to be with his sick wife and child, just because the guy asked, But the CEO was the picture of vengeance today.
CEO: (Screaming) “Who the flip is J, and where the heck is he?”
J is trying very hard to disappear under his desk.
Manager: “Over there, sir, that seat”
CEO: “Come with me, J, this room (points to the meeting room)”
They go into the meeting room – keeping in mind that the walls of this room are paper thin.
You can hear everything.
CEO: “We just got a call from the ombudsman who you were heard talking about (inappropriate topic) while a customer was on the phone.”
J: “Sir, I didn’t do anything like that!”
CEO: “Don’t you dare freaking lie to me.
I listened to the call and you were clearly talking about stuff like that. What the heck do you have to say for yourself?”
J: (silence)
CEO: “Well, I came here to see if I could possibly give you a second chance. But you lied to me and decline to accept your own failure.
Get your crap and get out. I’ll have someone call you over severance.”
The CEO walks out, gives everyone in the team a 15-minute break on his time, and goes back to his office (he’s really a great dude). J slinks out about 5 minutes later, quickly packs his stuff, and leaves.
As it turns out, he was not the only one to be fired that day. Apparently, the system records everything that goes into the mic, not just when calls are happening. 3 other people are fired the next day.
In the year or so that I worked there afterward, F and I rose to the top salespeople on the team.
We enjoyed the rest of the time until the team was dissolved in a cost-cutting measure and we got laid off with a very generous severance package. I still catch up with F from time to time, and he is well out of the closet and very proud now.
I’ve never seen J again. I think he moved to a different state. Though I did hear that he got the legal minimum severance possible.”
9. Got Divorced And It Worked Out
“Started a few years ago. I thought we were happy.
We were your usual suburban professional couple. Financially secure, healthy, good intimate life, two kids (14f and 9m at the time). I thought we had a healthy social life.
We were going through one of your typical married couple’s rough patches. Both of us were working long hours, not spending enough time together, we were going through some developmental problems with my son, and tensions in the house were running a little high.
I noticed that she was spending a lot more time on her phone texting with her lady friends. I didn’t think much of it. I started making a much more concerted effort to get out of work when I could, help around the house and be more emotionally available, but over the course of a few weeks, the gulf just kept getting wider.
I ended up accidentally finding some messages when I charged up an old iPad for my son to use. Her messenger was still logged in and there were a lot of highly questionable messages with a guy from her hometown who I will call JimBobCooter or JBC for short.
The messages weren’t completely inappropriate, but I could tell there were quite a few missing based on the times and context of the messages. I made a mental note to keep an eye on this and went about trying to fix things up.
The next day after I took the day off to knock out some projects that I thought would make her happy, and left her some sweet notes reminding her how much I appreciated her she was once again in the corner of the living room ‘texting her lady friends’.
I took the boy’s iPad to the office opened up messenger and watched in real-time as my wife tore me down. She and JBC were making fun of me. All of the flaws, insecurities, and secrets I entrusted to my partner were now fodder for her and JBC.
Not only that, but while there wasn’t outright inappropriate texting there was a sensual undertone to the whole conversation, especially when she was bashing my performance in the sack.
I managed to take some screenshots but missed a good bit of the messages because as the conversation was unfolding she was deleting them.
I wasn’t emotionally capable of confronting her. I stayed in the office until she was asleep and had a couple of drinks.
I took off the next day and spent some time soul searching, drinking, and trying to figure out what to do. The wife came home and wanted to know what was wrong and I just coped out and told her I had a bad day.
A couple of minutes later I was watching the iPad as the train wreck kept unfolding.
So began a couple of solid weeks of taking screenshots, drinking, and detaching myself from the relationship. I knew there was no going back from this. The messages were now overtly sensual with my wife completely into it, and JBC was sprinkling in ‘I love you’s’.
I consulted a lawyer and got my options, and started moving forward.
Here’s where everything got absolutely surreal. Watching the messages I found out JBC was coming to town to spend a weekend of quality time with my wife in a pretty nice hotel. I was missing a good bit of the info, they must have had a phone conversation about it at some point, but I was able to infer enough to get the when and where.
Surely, the next day the wife is buttering me up and wanting to take a spa weekend with the girls to relax and when she gets back we can really focus on our marriage. I go with it all the way. It’s the greatest idea she’s ever had, and I’ll do anything to get us back on track.
I get with the lawyer and have him draft a strong separation agreement stating that she would move out, she would get weekend visitation, no child support in the interim until the divorce is final. Then I sit through the most agonizing two weeks of my life.
After all, most of my feelings for her are completely gone, and I’m just seething with anger as I’ve never felt before.
D-day arrives. I take the day off work. I Withdraw half of any in any accounts we are joint on, leave her half alone.
I had already redirected my paycheck to a new bank. I close our market account and get a cashier’s check for her half and deposit my half in my new account. I stop at office max and print out about 75 pages of messenger screenshots, and I waste time because I don’t want to be at home.
She texts me that she’s taking off and that she loves me. I tell her to have fun.
I show up at the hotel at about 830 and call the wife’s phone from the lobby. It goes straight to VM. They are probably already at it, whatever.
I walk up to the front desk and ask if I can use the phone to be connected to the JBCs room. It rings three times and he picks up.
JBC: Hello?
Me: JBC, can you send my wife down to the lobby, please?
JBC: I don’t know what you’re talking about bro.
Me: Ok then. I guess I’ll have to call Mrs. JBC and get her down here. It (Totally a bluff. I knew he was married, and I knew her first name but that was it.)
JBC: (Inaudible, shuffling, panic)
Me: You got five minutes. Click
Not even two minutes later my wife comes walking out of the elevator looking a little flustered. I sit her down in the corner of the lobby.
Her: Starts spewing lies saying it’s not what it seems etc etc.
Me: I’m not here to argue.
The things that are said in this pile of papers are what’s going on. The only way I’m not giving a copy of this to your daughter, your parents, and emailing it to everyone we know is if you move out immediately. (Wife was very prideful.
The daughter was going through a rebellious teen phase and her knowing probably would have forever destroyed their relationship. The wife was also her parents’ golden child and she always worried about what they thought of her. I didn’t have much leverage and shame was my only card to play.
Also, her professional life is built up around her image, so I knew she would protect that at all costs.)
Her: Sniffle, mumble, inaudible
Me: This is a check for half of the market account. I’ve withdrawn half of the from all the other joint accounts.
You should have more than enough to get a place.
She starts to cry a little. I could almost see the different thoughts and waves of emotions going through her, but now was the time to keep pressing.
Me: Here is a separation agreement that I think is more than fair considering what’s going on.
I’m going to need you to look this over, sign it, and leave it at the house when you get your stuff. Do you want to look through these screenshots?
Her: No.
Me: Ok. Go have fun with JBC. Do not come back to the house or I’m going to send this (holds up a ream of screenshots) to everyone.
I bounce out of the lobby, and I can hear her start to have a breakdown. I get to the car drive off to a parking lot and have my own crying rage fit. Previously I would have cried in front of her and yelled and whatnot but I managed to get myself together enough to pull it off.
I don’t know what she did that night or over the weekend. She texted and called over and over wanting to talk. I just turned the phone off and by the time Monday afternoon rolled around movers were getting her stuff and she delivered the agreement.
I let her have a talk with the kiddos basically saying mommy and daddy need some time apart, we still love you, etc, etc. Standard divorce talk.
After a week she wants to have a real talk for the first time. I oblige her because I’ve already got my together and I’ve got an idea of what I want, but I should hear her out.
She’s so sorry. She wants another chance. She wants her family back. She’ll do anything. She’s on her knees crying into my lap. I have no intention of ever taking her back.
I tell her she needs to set up marriage counseling on her own at a time that works for me.
I tell her that I can’t live with her, but she should be around the children to try to maintain a relationship with them.
So starts our new normal of her coming over the house, cooking and having dinner with the kids three nights a week (she always saved me a plate, I made myself scarce), her cleaning the house and doing the kids laundry then heading back to her place.
We went to counseling. It consisted of her working through her issues with the therapist trying to figure out why she did it, her begging for forgiveness, and me stoically playing the victim.
I was never going to give her another chance. All I wanted to do was waste time, establish myself as the primary caregiver to the kids, and establish her as not having residency in the house.
After a few months, I go to my own therapist and get diagnosed with depression and PTSD. I ask my work if it’s possible to go part-time for the foreseeable future to deal with personal issues, and it’s no big deal.
After six months of therapy, I told her that I couldn’t forgive her right now and that I wanted an amicable divorce, but she is still the love of my life and maybe someday we could give it another try.
She was devastated but agreed to the divorce if I promised to try again someday.
Once the divorce was filed I needed the kids to want to stay with me. I left a google search for ‘how to survive your wife’s infidelity’ upon the shared PC at home, and I left some printed-out infidelity articles not so hidden in the kitchen.
My daughter found them and came to me crying. I told her she wasn’t supposed to find those, that mom made a mistake, that mom still loves her, and that I would always be here for her. My daughter who used to hold my wife in such high regard now wouldn’t talk to her without screaming, and it crushed her.
Not surprisingly when the court needed statements from the kids a few months later little brother followed big sister’s lead and they both wanted to stay with Dad in the house they grew up in.
When the divorce was finalized I got the house (had to buy out some of her equity, but that’s ok).
I got primary custody of the kids. I got awarded generous child support due to the difference in our incomes due to me working part-time.
Now for the last two years, I’ve gotten to live in the house with my kids, work part-time, get the now ex to subsidize it for me, and when she takes the kids over the weekends I get to have my fun with girls and some FWBs I’ve cultivated.
In the eyes of my kids, I’m the patron saint of fatherhood for taking the high road and always being there.
In the eyes of my ex, I’m the one that got away that she will always pine for, and I get the bonus of having her come over for a good time whenever I want it by dangling that carrot of maybe getting back together.
But that is never going to happen.”
8. Break My Favorite Instrument? Welcome To My Concert
“So I am a collector of small instruments normally percussion. My personal favorite is a kalimba, I also have a brother who always complains about everything but before this, he hasn’t brought up a complaint about this instrument ever. We got into an argument as siblings do and he broke my kalimba!!
Now, this is a very peaceful-sounding instrument which is why I love it, it literally sounds like an RPG fantasy game tavern music. So I took out my drum that I have little to no volume control of, it’s a handheld drum called a pellet drum or den den daiko.
This thing tends to ring in my small house so I hope my brother likes my petty drumming for the next hour or so.”
7. Won't Pay Me For Work? I'll Ruin Your Business From The Inside
“I moved to the US from Germany about 5 years ago, My father found a steady job as an insurance salesman, and my mother was a housewife for the first couple of years living in the United States.
At this time, I was only 12 years old and attempting to find friends in my 6th-grade class.
After about 3 years of living in a calm suburban town, my mother had become more increasingly bored as a stay-at-home mom, and she decided to start looking for a job.
eventually, she found a job translating for a new small options company based in the big city near my suburb. Her boss and CEO was probably the most narcissistic, arrogant jerk I have ever met, so we will call him DB. In addition to translating conversations, emails, and documents from foreign clients, she was also in charge of building the company’s new website and managing all the docs and programs they had made.
About a year later, after I had turned 16, I was looking for a job, and I eventually started working for my mom’s boss and his company because they were looking for employees and I was looking for employment. When I started there, I was put in charge of the website management, because I knew a lot more about technology and computer stuff than my mother did.
Before I continue any further I would like to explain a little more about DB’s company. So basically what his company does, is create resources, and tutorials for people who are learning about trading options or stocks, and their lessons weren’t cheap. Clients varied in wealth, we had some very rich, and others looking for deals on a budget.
(this is important to the story).
Anyway, I wasn’t paid an hourly salary for my job with DB’s company, I was paid a predetermined amount per task that I completed. It worked pretty well at first, DB would assign me a task to complete and we would agree on a price for my time, most of the tasks were tedious busy work no one in the office wanted to do.
DB and I had only met in person a few times, and we mostly talked through emails, as with school most of my work with the company was done on my computer at home.
For a few months, everything went smoothly and I made a decent amount of for a kid my age, I didn’t mind doing the work as it was very simple, just tedious, and I could watch youtube while working at home, which was a win-win for me.
Eventually, there came a time where I was paid a little less than what we agreed on, however, I noticed but didn’t really care, as I was still making a lot of earnings, I thought it was just a mistake on his end, but I was wrong.
After completing more tasks, he started paying me less and less than what we had previously agreed on. When I eventually confronted him about it he argued with me and said that he had paid me the amount we had agreed on which I knew was a complete lie.
There even was a time where he didn’t even pay me at all! I was so sick of his stunts, he kept making excuses about how I’m just a kid and I don’t need to pay taxes or anything and he just went on and on.
At this point, the only reason I still worked for this jerk was solely to get revenge.
About a month later I get a very important email from DB explaining that a new client had just made a very expensive order, and bought a copy of almost every course, document, and lesson that DB had for sale.
My task was to revise all the documents in his order and create a folder to locate copies of all the resources like I said it was easy to work but time-consuming and everyone else had something more important to do. I told DB that I would start immediately, and I would have the folder ready by the end of the week, however, this was a lot of work and I wasn’t sure if DB was even going to pay me so I didn’t do anything, by the end of the week my inbox is exploding from emails from DB frantically asking about the folder I said that I was really busy the whole week with school but DB wasn’t having it.
He lost a client that he could have made tens of thousands of dollars off of. He called my phone and when I answered he started screaming at me and said I wouldn’t be paid for my work (which I probably wouldn’t have been anyway).
And I was fired on the spot
I honestly didn’t really care, as at this point I really knew how much of a jerk DB was, I thought I was done with him but, sadly I wasn’t. DB began harassing my mother at work, physically and mentally, I witnessed this when I visited the office with her, she eventually quit, but I knew I had to get back at DB once and for all, and I wanted him to really suffer this time.
what DB didn’t know, was that I had still had access to the website and I was an admin. I had access to all the resources of the company that they sold.
Slowly I started to formulate my plan, and a great idea came to me (disclaimer!
I am not sure if what I did here is illegal, but I know that DB deserved this). When clients approached our website they filled out their email address or phone number. What I did was when a new client contacted me through the website I contacted them with a fake email and I gave them every resource they asked for, for free!
this went on for months and when DB heard the news that there had been zero new clients in months it shattered him. he actually became depressed. At this point, it made me so happy to see him like this, and I knew I had to take it a step further, began reaching out to regular clients too, and giving them all the company lessons and docs for free too!
This was a small company and it didn’t take long. Pretty soon the company started to go under, as they had zero sales for almost a whole quarter!
After DB’s company went under his wife divorced him, and he is left unemployed living off his savings, which hopefully won’t last him very long.
I don’t know all the details about what happened to DB after his company shut down, but I do know that his future isn’t very bright at the moment, and he is a depressed heavy drinker. The best part is that he will never know that it was me.
And seeing the closed sign in front of his old office building every day makes me smile.”
6. Try To Take Away My Games? I'll Take Away Yours
“So a while back I heard that a close friend of mine was talking trash behind me back about me lets call him AH. (an example: I was going out with a girl I had a crush on since high school.
Everything was good fun and romantic until AH told her best friend that I said I had a threesome with my crush and her best friend. This is a lie. But she believed it so that’s the end of that. He was also telling people I have no friends and everyone hangs out with me out of pity.
also, a lie). Naturally, since I’ve known him for 10 years and considered him a close friend I called him to ask what was up. He started acting real childish and literally repeated what I said in a funny voice. Needless to say, I got annoyed.
So I decided to block him on everything. He has a problem with drinking or something cause after like 2 beers he becomes the most annoying piece of work you can think of.
He would continue talking smack about me. Like that, I was stalking his girl and stuff.
But I kept ignoring him. But he just kept going.
Fast forward 3 months. I’ve been ignoring the idiot and not much was happening. Until one morning. I woke up and turned on my ps4 and see in my notifications that I quit a whole list of chat groups, and see I accepted a friend request from xXAHXx while I had him blocked. So I already kind of knew what was going on, but for those of you that don’t: he still had access to my PSN account since we used to share games.
He logged into it. Spew out a whole bunch of racist, homophobic, transphobic stuff in the messages. Went back to his account. And proceeded to report me for them. Naturally, Sony looks into it, sees the offense, and bans me. It started with just a 2-day ban.
Then a week. Then a month and then a permanent ban. The thing is that if your account is banned you can’t access the PlayStation store which means you can’t access your games. I knew it was him since the notification told me I accepted his friend request so at this point I’m furious at him and about ready to take him down.
I called Sony and they looked into it. After 3 weeks, I finally hear back from them confirming that it was indeed an irregular login and irregular behavior. So they unbanned me. And so my rage died down a bit, but I was still out for blood sort of speak.
Fast forward another month or 2 and I’m just gaming when I get a message. Just some dude saying he once met me on warframe and he needed some help on dark souls 3. I was in a helpful mood so I went to help the guy.
He had no mic so we only talked in messages. Nothing weird. He asked me what I thought of the DLC. To which I replied. ‘it’s dope but pretty hard bro’.
Lo and behold, it was AH on a different account. Reporting me for saying a swear word.
So Sony banned my account again. I called them to explain. It had to be sent to the moderators so I would hear back from them. I didn’t hear from them in 2 months. All the while I’m still hearing stories about AH spreading lies. And when I finally heard from Sony they told me: they warned me multiple times and now the ban is staying.
This enraged me. I have never been so annoyed in my life. This dude for no reason decides to take away 10K worth of games from me and doesn’t even have the balls to tell me why he’s doing it. So my initial plan. I’m gonna find him.
And beat him up.
I told our friend group and some didn’t believe me since the screenshot of the notification wasn’t proof in their eyes. So I was kinda going crazy.
Well, we’re in the Netherlands. Well at least then we were so I couldn’t find or run into him anywhere, word spread that I was on a warpath and he didn’t show for a couple of getting together.
I don’t know if it’s a coincidence or if he knew but whatever. He wasn’t there I was fine with that.
Fast forward another month, he broke up with his girl. And all of a sudden, she contacted me. Turns out they broke up and within 4 days he had a new girl.
So she was also annoyed and heard I was looking for him or his new address. She had heard that and was happy to comply. I asked her about the whole situation and she confirmed it was indeed him. and then I remembered. ‘Say don’t you use his account to download his games?’ Turns outs she did.
So we came up with a plan.
That night at around 2 AM she called me she was ready. I told some of my gaming buddies to be up as well if they’re down for some revenge. And of course, they were. She logged in on AH’s account.
I unlocked the account and we proceeded to send me and my friends the most horrendous phobic everything stuff. Just everything awful on it. Including adult videos, pictures of gore sending random pics we found online, and just yuck. We had an hour or so of good fun coming up with the most messed up things we could think of.
It was true degeneracy. So of course. His account got permanently banned as well.
This felt good cause I got my revenge. Payback was sweet. But still, I couldn’t access my 400+ games so I wasn’t completely over it.
Until 2 months later I get a magic email from Sony.
After 2 months they finally realized. Oh, the previous warnings were indeed not really warnings so here’s your account back. So in the end. I have my account and all my games. And AH has a banned account with 300+ games on it he can’t access anymore.”
5. The Plants Are Leaving With Me
“When I was 16 I started my first job as an Office Junior. (Anyone else old enough to remember them?) I hated it. I was working for the local Council in the Planning Department and my job was mainly to do the clerical crap no one else wanted to do.
I typed envelopes, and I made the Supervisors tea and I tried to avoid getting harrassed in the lift by the mainly middle-aged male staff. I spent hours every day buried in a freezing cold, dusty file store, putting documents no one ever read into folders no one would ever call for.
One day my supervisor told me it was also my job to water and care for all the numerous plants in the building. Ok then, at least it’s an hour a week I’m not in the file store. A few weeks later my Supervisor’s Boss told me off for watering the plants during office time!
He was very proud of the floral display, told me it was an honor to be given the responsibility, and that I should be doing it in my own time during my lunch breaks. He shouted at me so long and so loudly that I burst into tears.
I’m not sure if that was the last straw, but not long after I handed in my one-month notice. On my last day, I went round and took care of every single plant at my lunchtime.
I topped up every pot and I spritzed every leaf – with grass killer.
I hope my replacement Office Junior skivvy was grateful that I saved them their lunch breaks…”
4. Bully Me After I Lose My Stuff In A Game? Say Goodbye To Your Hard Work
“So I and my brother played in a Minecraft realm.
We played for a week and both of us had some pretty good diamond loot. My brother had a full villager system to get lots of enchanted books.
One day, when I came back to my house, a creeper blew me up (I realized that my house wasn’t 100% spawn proof), and blew up my bed in the process.
So I spawned at my default spawn point. When I got back to my house, I realized that my diamond tools were destroyed by the creeper. And then my brother started laughing in the other room. I punched him once, and then he started his killing spree.
He would take me down with his enchanted diamond sword many times. Each time, I lost even more XP and my stuff. And he knew I couldn’t do anything, as he is basically a god with all his enchanted staff. Once he left, I started my revenge.
My brother had a giant spruce tree farm so he can make sticks to trade with the fletcher, so I ‘accidentally’ dropped my flint and steel there. Then, I stomped up to his wheat farm. But the grand prize was when I stole all of his important stuff.
I took his many stacks of emeralds, along with his enchanted books and table along with other stuff that was in his chest (he hadn’t moved into his house yet, so the chests were in plain sight.) I then put them in a chest under my own house, so he wouldn’t find it for a very long time.
When both of us logged back on, he started raging and attempted to go after me (I had a totem in case this happened) asking me where were his stuff. He started racing as all of his hard work to making lots of emeralds and enchantments were gone.
I mean lots of Sharpness V and Mending books! So I made up a story that some pillagers stole it, (we were raided by some pillagers a few days ago) saying that it could’ve been a new thing in the 1.16 update. But here’s the catch, that fool actually bought it!
He actually believed me!”
3. Entitled Kids Lose Their Entire Discord
“So if anyone is not familiar with Roblox, or hasn’t played it for a while, there was a new popular game that was released a few months ago called Shinobi Life 2, a Naruto based game that required heavy grinding and required tons of your time to even have your kit be viable (this is somewhat important).
Ice (my friend) was dedicated to this game for the last 2 weeks and spent almost every single free time optimizing his kit whenever he can, while I played only here. So he met 2 other people who, how he described it, was at most 12yrs old and kept berating Ice, and were clearly spoiled rotten and demanded that Ice helps the entitled kids to get items that literally had around a 1/40 chance to acquire every chance they get with no help or pay.
So Ice and I decided to plan revenge. We knew that they had a grinding discord for this game and decided to check it out.
The entitled kids were apparently dumb enough to make Ice the co-owner of the discord, which allowed Ice to do literally anything that the owner could do to anyone except the owner.
Ice went to moi to itch a plan to burn the discord to the ground. The discord was well-maintained and quite large for only a week of being open. There were exactly 87 members in the discord, including 6 bots, and focused on a truly dedicated community, I did feel bad for planning an act of revenge including casualties, but Ice showed the moderator-only chat where the admins and co-owners were bullying those into utilizing the discord’s private servers to help farm the items that were nearly impossible to acquire, and if they didn’t comply, they were either harassed into helping them, to hacking their Roblox account and saying ‘discard’ in a public chat, saying discard in a Roblox chat would trigger the bot moderators and ban your account permanently, Roblox does this either to prevent spreading a bad reputation of Roblox if there was a reason that person would want to quit Roblox, along with other banned keywords.
Ice invited me to see the discord and set up a role that was hidden from view and allowed the same administrator powers as the co-owners and got ready.
IT IS TIME TO POACH SOME IDIOTS
Ice targeted the members in the discord and the channels while I dealt with the discord itself.
Ice permanently banned everyone one by one, and deleted administrator powers, along with deleting the channels, also one by one. I quickly removed the bots to prevent a possible! took all of the discord’s codes to the private servers and removed the discord from the community page so no one could rejoin unless if they got an invite from the discord owner after being unbanned from that owner, and no one could join through codes as Ice went ahead and invalidated all of them on a 10 minute expire.
Sadly we couldn’t change the audit logs, so to counteract getting hacked we downloaded and used Opera GX web browser since Opera GX had free use of VPNs if you used incognito. Our incognito windows went black, but they turned off the VPN which killed the link between the entitled kids and Ice and my computers, and couldn’t reconnect after we turned off the internet to prevent exposing our real IP addresses, so the VPNs redirected the entitled kids to IP addresses towards countries.
We never touched the discord accounts since the incident, since we had no foolproof plan of getting them back since we can’t do the exact same trick twice. (They’re stupid, but not that stupid,) but they got what they deserved.”
2. Frame Me In Our Previous Games? I'll Get You Ejected
“I finally found a good match of players in Among Us that aren’t trolls and throwers.
We are about 6-7 games in and I’m doing my tasks as Crewmate. The map is the ship, 1 imposter, 10 players and it’s just started. I’m watching Brown do Weapons near Nav so I know Brown is good. I’m sticking next to Brown the whole match.
As the match progresses, Brown watches me do Trash and eject trash into space. He knows I’m good too.
Body discovered in Admin by Light Green just as I’m walking into Admin and Brown is behind me. LG absolutely, 100% blames me says he was on Card Swipe and got off to 100% watched me kill him.
Total bs. Brown backs me up, saying it was impossible as saw me, blah blah, but 7 people vote me out. Light Green should be suspect, right? The match progresses and Bodies are piling up. The imposter is very good as everyone is pointing fingers at everyone.
Even Brown is sus at one point until someone remembers, Brown was with Draidr who was ejected first and they vouched for each other. 4 players remain, including Light Green.
Light Green dies to Imposter and the blame goes to Blue and blue gets Ejected. Imposter wins.
Pink wins. Masterfully done.
But I was SO ANNOYED at Light Green for 100% saying he saw me take down someone when I didn’t. I wanted revenge.
Two games later, I get Imposter and I already had my revenge in hand. I was going to distantly follow Light Green and chase whoever is around him and let him discover the body.
EVERY TIME. I get first to attack and Light Green discovers. Everyone skips vote and we move on. I fake my tasks and move just after the taskbar moves. Perfect! My next kill is timed flawlessly as it’s just out of eyesight from Light green and I vent.
I’m in Med bay doing specimens and Pink roles up to do Scanner. Light Green reports body. I vouch for Pink, Pink vouches for me. Light green has nothing, didn’t see anyone as he remembers Blue with the body, not me. LULZ.
The third Body goes undiscovered in Engines so I do forth in Electrical as he was doing the wiring.
It was directly below him on switches with Doors locked. Blue was OUTSIDE elect with Yellow vouching for him. Light Green is really SUS right now. He is defending himself. Begging us to believe him. 3 bodies he’s discovered?!?! But I defend him. telling everyone that I saw him do trash which was true.
Pink saw me in Med so I was clear, (LUL). Light green is begging us to watch him do Weapons next which is visual. So we skip voting. (Tasks are close to being complete, gonna speed this up).
We all follow Light green to Weapons, 3 of us STAND on weapons including me.
Light green moves first while Blue and I are still not moving. We take 4 more seconds and move at the same time. Really SUS for Light green. We all move in different directions. I follow Pink for a bit and ‘watch her go to the admin.’ I go to the cafe and Vent to Weapons down to Nav O2 where I know Light Green and Blue are.
Kill Blue, Vent to Weapons, to Cafe, check on Pink who sees me milliseconds after coming out of the vent (phew! didn’t see I guess) just in time and not Sus. Body Discovered. Light Green AGAIN. Only one there is Light green. White was doing Engine Switch as the last task and then on Cams (we saw light and could vouch for that last part).
We are Voting his ass out now. We all saw him on Weapons but he left early. Blue and I did weapons too. Everyone saw us leave together. He is CAPS SCREAMING THAT HE IS NOT THE IMPOSTER! Practically crying that we are idiots. It’s got to be me.
Pink calls out his lie. Saw me in the cafe, no possible way.
Light Green is ejected, It’s just 3 of us left… Well, it wasn’t light green. Pink and White? 30 seconds on Emergency and 25 seconds to attack.
Basically, RUN!!
I win by chasing Pink from around a corner with 1 second to spare.
Light green is going nuts in chat at the start of the next game. Told everyone my Perfectly executed plan and they were impressed. Light Green was really angry. I followed up with ‘That was for framing me for that murder those games back.’ and ‘Payback is a witch!’ the chat was LULZ and GG dude, omg well done.”
1. Cause Mental Harm To Me For Exposing Your Corruption? Watch Me Rise
“So I do Moderator work for a community on ROBLOX on and off for about 5 years. The community was made in 2011 and the old owner (who isn’t related to this story) transferred ownership to the new owner, who we will call Lobster.
Lobster is a very nice fellow from the Eastern United States. Though he isn’t on as much, he still makes a presence in-game, helping us enforce the rules of the game to the players once or twice a week. He is also very oblivious to what’s going on in the community.
In late 2017, he hired a guy I will call Luke. Luke joined because his brother, who we will call John, recommended Luke to Lobster. It became apparent this guy had a huge ego problem, as he would belittle players for the smallest of mistakes.
It is to mention that we have two different divisions for our staff team.
We have the Enforcement Division, which handles a lot of our help calls which we respond to, and we have the Development Bureau, which handles server maintenance and updates. If a Developer wants to enforce in-game rules, they would have to go through the process to get what we call an Enforcement Certification.
At this time, I was a part of Enforcement, and Luke and John were Development.
In 2017, I’ve never had much trouble with John and Luke. John and I were pretty good friends (due to me helping him with a project, he also taught me a lot about uniform and vehicle livery design).
Like and I was co-workers at best. It wasn’t until Lobster found out about Luke’s harassment towards players and promptly fired Luke.
In 2019, I came back to Lobster’s community and worked in Enforcement but in a new experimental division solely based on volunteers.
We called it the Staff Investigations Division. There weren’t many people other than me that signed on to do it. I did a few minor investigations and it wasn’t until early December that Luke managed to get back and return as a Head Developer. I’m gonna be honest, I wanted to at least be friendly with Luke, which worked pretty well.
It wasn’t until I was off duty one night and I witnessed him completely admin abusing a player. Now, a lot of our player base range from 9-12-year-olds with a few older people sprinkled in. This was serious to me and I asked permission from my Director (who we will call Cart).
Cart said no and never gave me a reason as to why. Eventually, I gathered evidence such as admin logs and command logs and started to format my case to skip past Chain of Command and up to Lobster.
After I got the green light from Lobster, I started taking statements from the very few witnesses that talked about Luke.
When I got to Luke, I asked civilly if we can talk about him abusing a player. I was being polite and friendly about it. He starts going off on me on how the guy he abused was what he called a ‘subhuman piece of work’ as well as insulting and belittling me.
I never yelled back at him and I continued to ask to get a statement from him and he angrily declined.
After I gathered as much that I can, I sent it to Lobster for his approval to press corruption and abuse charges. He for no apparent reason declined it.
So I pursued my next option, creating a petition. I DMed his second in command (we will name him Julius) about what to create as a petition. He guided me through it and I created a petition to file charges on him community-wise. I sent it to a couple of communities I had relations in and that was when things go down.
Apparently, Luke found out about my petition and managed to get nearly the ENTIRE leadership on his side explaining that the evidence was forged and I was trying to start rumors. He then called an emergency meeting and specifically told me to come.
The meeting was essentially him harassing, threatening, and bullying me to the point that I broke mentally.
I had plans after the meeting to just end myself because it was so bad. Luckily, a good friend of mine saved me from doing that, so I decided to just take a few months off. The aftermath resulted in my false termination and a blacklist (meaning I would be never allowed back as a Moderator).
Like had essentially ruined my positive reputation with this community via false accusations.
In July, I heard that Luke was forced to resign due to numerous complaints such as Abuse of Power as a Senior Manager (third in command) and Lobster and Julius replaced him with a more quiet Community Manager.
When Moderator applications opened up, I was recommended to apply by Julius and explained that my blacklist would be removed if I passed, so I did. I passed selection and after a brief back and forth due to an error on my part, I became a Moderator in Training.
After about two weeks of working my ass off, trying to clock 20 hours of field training (essentially me being guided by a Moderator specifically qualified to field train MiTs in-game), I finally received the title of Moderator.
After about a month of me working as a Moderator, I got promoted to a Senior Moderator and became a Field Training Moderator so I can FTO Moderators in Training.
I worked my ass off, being respectful and kind to others. Eventually, the replacement for Luke resigned for better pastures and there was just a vacant spot for Community Manager for about a month.
The month rolls by so I notified Julius and Lobster about the vacancy and asked if I could apply to become one.
I fall asleep the night I asked not thinking a second thought.
A few days after telling Julius and Lobster, my supervisor private messages me saying that Julius and Lobster want to speak to me. I was thinking that I may have accidentally broken a rule or something.
I join the Voice Channel that Julius and Lobster are in and this conversation comes in:
Lobster: Before I start, I want to thank you for notifying me about the vacancy, Julius and I started our search for candidates for Community Manager. Due to the only other candidate aside from you being suspended, we were wondering if you would want the title.
Me: I will gladly take it, thank you.
Julius: As well as that, you will have a second Community Manager join you in case something happens and one of you guys is on leave.
Lobster and Julius introduce me to a 17-year-old Administrator who would be a CM with me.
From talking and sharing quite a few laughs, we discovered that I and the other CM had the same birthday (the only difference was the year, I’m 20, he’s 17).
So far, I never got any word and what Luke’s reaction was when I got Community Manager.
But within the days I’ve been one thus far, I essentially started defeating corruption piece by piece trying to regain the community’s trust in the staff team once more.
My main goal now is to fully blacklist Luke from the community but that’d take a meeting with Julius and Lobster for that to happen, so I’m waiting for the best opportunity to speak to them.”
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