People Share Their Ultimate Pro Revenge Stories

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Ah, revenge is oh so satisfyingly saccharine-sweet when it’s served cold – subzero freezing, in fact. I don’t quite have the calculating, devious mastermind that some of these outrageous stunts need in order to be pulled off so artfully, but I  sure can live vicariously through the justice being served. Ladies and gentlemen, this is next level professional revenge that requires time, patience, scheming and mega poise to get back at the lack of scruples exhibited in the first place.

So what is pro revenge exactly? It’s about getting back at someone who wronged you in more ways that one, each time knocking you down notch by notch to a breaking point that has tested all your morals, ethics and general humanity. With nothing left to do, you are compelled to give them a taste of their own medicine, but worse, go above and beyond and totally out of your way to deliver a message so glaringly loud and clear that it’s game over after you’re done with them.

One user sums up what makes for a tasty pro revenge story, saying that it typically has a villain with an absolute lack of morals and a hero who approaches the situation reasonably and rationally.

From here, the hero gets rebuffed and is then forced to seek revenge. Even with layers of obstacles in the way of the hero seeking his revenge, he displays an uncommon level of sophistication and know-how to overcome those obstacles and dismantle the villain.
Yes, there is an uncommon level of persistence and obsession necessary to exact such an act of exquisite revenge but through strategy and sometimes unexpected twists of fate, the hero gets his just deserts. Between roach burgers, pools of squid and 30 cars getting impounded at once, you’re in a for a pro revenge treat.

They’re a long read, but I guarantee every word will tickle your fantasy for revenge.
26. Her insults cost her her GPA 

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“Thanksgiving 2015. My family gets together in a rural-ish cabin. I had agreed to give my younger sister a ride to the airport on Sunday, since she was on a short break from college, and had important classes and tests to get back to after Thanksgiving.
I’d also agreed to lock up the cabin for my parents since they had to leave on Saturday to get back to pressing work matters.

During the post-dinner hanging around on Thanksgiving, my sister decided to give me s*it about the bad couple months I’d had. A long-term girlfriend of mine and I had broken up and the company I worked for folded.
This went beyond normal sibling sh*t-flinging, including her saying something to the effect of, ‘Who’d date or hire a worthless failure loser like you anyway, b*tch? Your girlfriend was probably sleeping with your boss and dumped you both when she learned you were both failures.’

She was called out on her crude remarks by several family members but refused to apologize.

I seemingly let it slide. I had plenty of emergency funds, had a few job prospects lined up (was hired shortly after and got a nice salary bump, actually) and was okay with being single. Her vehemence was out of left field though, and uncalled for.
Sunday morning, I waited for her in the kitchen with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

‘Hey, Heather,’ I said when she entered the kitchen. ‘Wanna apologize for your awful crappy comments the other night?’

She laughed. ‘About your being a complete failure? Nope.

Now let’s get going I have a flight to catch.’

‘Fair enough!’ I responded, and poured myself a double Jack Daniels, then knocked it back.
‘What the eff are you doing?; she screamed. ‘I have a plane to catch!’

‘You sure do!’ I responded, cheerfully. I paused and repeated the pour-and-slam. ‘Well, eff, it looks like I’ve had too much to drink to drive! I guess we’ll have to wait until you’re f*cking civil, won’t we?’
She pulled out her phone and messed with it for a few seconds before I said: ‘There aren’t any cab companies or Ubers around here.

I’m your only ride. So you can apologize for being a b*tch, or you can miss your flight.’

‘Eff you!’

I grinned and took another shot.

In short: I got absolutely hammered drunk, she missed her flight, missed some tests, and her GPA plummeted.
It was hilarious.

Someone asked why she didn’t drive herself to the airport and/or why someone else didn’t give her a ride. For one, the car was registered and insured in my name only. I’d locked the keys in the little keypad safe in our parent’s room and changed the combination.

As for other ride options, it was established early on that I would be giving her a ride, so we were the last two there.
I was her only option. sirdrinksalot_
25. He came back to 3 inches of ice on his car 

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“I went to a boarding school in Pennsylvania for sophomore through senior year of high school.
One of the dorm monitor guys was a ROYAL @$$hole. Any day he was on duty was hell. He would stick you with ‘on campus only’ (a.k.a.

grounded) for the littlest thing, and complaining about it got you ‘in sight’ (have to be visible, can’t hide in your room even to do homework, etc) until bedtime. Typical ‘I’m in charge’ bullying BS.

One year he got bad news right after we got back from Thanksgiving: A family member on the other side of the country was in bad shape, so he had to go take care of them (we never got the exact details).
He lived in a crappy neighborhood and didn’t trust his car to be in one piece when he got back, so he asked the school administrators if he could leave his car at the school while he was away for ix weeks.

They let him, the only stipulation being that he had to leave the keys with Maintenance so they could move the car if the parking area needed plowing.
He parked his car on the grass around the side of our dorm the second week of December and left. He didn’t get back until the end of January.

Because the dorm was full of teenagers with bad ideas, the spigots didn’t have regular handles on them.
Instead, they used a strange square key that was kept in the ‘office’ and was only used with permission from the dorm monitors.

However, a pair of flat-ended pliers worked well to turn the water on.

We hid a hose in the bedroom closest to the car, which was also right next to a spigot. The kid who was supposed to be in that room slept elsewhere so he wouldn’t get woken by someone coming in every 20-30 minutes, unrolling the hose, hooking it up, turning on the water, giving the car a good misting, and rolling up the hose again. Every day, from the minute we got back from classes to the minute we had to leave the next morning, that car got misted.

We even got help from a couple of kids in our classes who lived close enough to bike over during Christmas vacation. One even showed up with a lawn chair and a book so he could just stay there and mist it again as soon as the last layer had frozen over (no staff was in any of the school buildings during vacations, so he didn’t get caught).

In the middle of the night two days after we got back from Christmas vacation, I was one of the 2 people ‘on duty’ with the hose when the monitor for that night comes outside for a cigarette (we didn’t know he smoked, so we thought he was in the office, which was on the other end of the building).

He sees me with the pliers in hand and asks, ‘Did you forget something?’ and holds out the spigot key. That’s when we realized just how much @$$hole was disliked. That monitor actually offered to help ice @$$hole’s car during the day while we were in classes!!!
By the time @$$hole got back, the car was ENCASED in a block of ice. I had to be at least 3 inches thick.

When he complained to the administrators, they told him that because he hadn’t dropped off the keys, everyone had assumed he had changed his mind about leaving the car there.

When he went to try to get his car out of the ice, he couldn’t just attack it with a hammer; doing so would break every window and destroy the paint job.
The only way to get rid of the ice was the same way it went on: slowly. He tried using a small blowtorch, but that didn’t work because he got too impatient and tried to put the torch right against the ice, which kept putting it out. He got the smart idea of hooking a hose to the dorm’s hot water heater.

It was stalled at first because all the hoses on campus ‘miraculously’ disappeared (who needs a hose in Pennsylvania in the middle of January?). Then he was told he could only do it while we were in class because we needed the hot water for showers in the morning and evening, plus the dishwasher.
That didn’t work too well because he had a regular job he had to be at Monday through Friday, 9-5. Weekends were out because we had to do our laundry.

The line, ‘The tank can barely keep up!’ was our favorite.

He ended up running back and forth with a couple of teakettles, melting channels so he could chisel out the ice between them. We kept turning the burner off when he left the kitchen. He stopped working for the school at the end of June.
Answering some questions  –

Why was this so easy for us to do and hard for him to undo? He put the car on the north side of the building.

Almost zero sun compounded by bitter cold. We couldn’t have asked for a better setup.

How long did it take him to release his car? He would pour warm water so that it would melt a channel, pour some more to melt another, then chisel out the stuff in between with a screwdriver (maintenance wouldn’t lend him a chisel and he was too cheap to buy one just for this). Depending on where he was working, it would come off in big flakes – about the size of a playing card but no more than 1/3 the thickness of a deck.

He could only work on it when he wasn’t on shift, which was 10-15 minutes in the morning (after we went to class, but before he went to his other job) and another half hour or so at night (after we were supposed to be in bed but before he had to go home to get some sleep) so around Valentine’s day he finally got it to the point that he could get it towed to a local car wash that could keep it indoors long enough for all the ice to melt (we had made damn sure to freeze it to the ground).

He had no friends who would do it for him (big surprise!) and he didn’t trust us any farther than he could throw us.
When did he quit? When the school semester was over in June. He had a contract with the school – he couldn’t quit early without a good reason and they didn’t really want to fire him. If he had left, they would have had to get other dorm monitors to cover his shifts (which means paying overtime hours) or get someone new (finding someone, full background check, certain minimum training requirements, etc.).  It would be expensive no matter what.

Why no salt, heaters, etc? Cheap bastard. ‘Nuff said. Did we get in any trouble? Pfft. NOPE. All, and I mean all the staff vouched for us (one gave is the spigot key!)!” Arokthis
24. She insulted me. 10 years later, I fired her…

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“This story begins when I was a freshman in high school. After school on most weekdays, I would walk to my uncle’s house to babysit my little cousin. My cousin was about 2 or 3 years old at the time and liked to go to the public park that was directly in front of my uncle’s house.

It was a simple park, about the size of a football field with a playground in one corner and the rest, all grass.
One particular day, my cousin is begging me to go to the park so I take him.

For a while, we were the only ones there. My cousin was too scared to go down the slide from the top by himself so I was picking him up and letting him slide from about halfway. He was having a great time and laughing.

Soon a lady comes up with her daughter and they start playing on the swing set. Well, the lady was sitting on the bench and her daughter was trying to play on the swing set.
Now here’s an important point to the story.
When I speak with my little cousin I speak in our native language. He can understand English, but I’m just so used to speaking my native language with my family that it just happens naturally. So I’m speaking to my cousin trying to encourage him to go up to the top of the slide and he’s on his way up psyching himself up.

Then I hear the lady yell out:

Lady: ‘Hey you need to speak English when you’re around me.’

Me: ‘Huh? I’m just telling him to –’ She cuts me off.

Lady: ‘THIS IS AMERICA WE SPEAK ENGLISH HERE.’

Me: ‘Uhhhh, I’m just trying to play with my cousin, he doesn’t speak English too well…’ (I lied he understood English)

Lady: ‘I don’t care! You speak English when you’re around me and my daughter.’
So, I’m p*ssed off.
I’ve had my experience with racism especially post 9/11. I’m just here with a child and he was visibly having an awesome time playing at the playground.

There was no reason for this lady to impose her BS on me. So I decided to eff it. If she wants me to speak English here have it.

Me to my cousin: ‘Hey let’s ignore the b*tch,’ and continue to speak in my native language to tell him to slide down

Her: ‘WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!?!’

Me: ‘Oh, I called you a b*tch because that’s what you’re being.’

Her: ‘OMG I’M CALLING MY HUSBAND HE’S GONNA KICK YOUR A*S!!!’

At this point, I feel the need to try and get out of there so I start telling my cousin to let’s go.

While I’m trying to leave she keeps yelling and screaming at me about how her husband is on her way and he’s gonna kick my a*s blah blah blah and even says she’s gonna call the cops because she thinks I’m a pedophile and who’s kid am I really with. Anyway, I leave and get home.

I was paranoid for a few weeks after that incident, thinking the cops were going to want to talk to me or something. I avoided the park for a while.

I told my uncle what happened and he agreed that I should avoid the park for a while too.
Now we’re in the present and it’s been over 10 years. I’ve graduated from high school and got a job at this plant. The thing about this plant is that it’s one of the few places in my city that pays well over minimum wage. A lot of the people in my city try super hard to get into this plant, but few do.

Most people end up moving out of my city or commuting over an hour where all the good jobs are at.

Another important note and I’m not trying to brag or anything, but through a series of promotions I got due to actually having computer skills and being at the right place at the right time when certain key people retired, I ended up becoming the #2 at the plant.
I have a really good plant manager who has a lot of faith in me and he’s taken me under his wing.

So one of my job responsibilities is hiring people and making sure they get trained properly. A couple of weeks ago we had to let go of one of our office ladies because of reasons. So I called up the placement agency I use and let them know I need an office administrator type person on Monday.

Monday comes around and guess who shows up? Yup, you guessed it. It’s the outspoken lady from the park. She, for whatever reason, doesn’t recognize me but be assured I recognize that evil woman.

Her face is ingrained into my brain. I go through the typical introductions and pass her off to Human Resources for a bit to make sure she fills out some paperwork. After all that I give her a tour of the plant and let her know which areas she’s allowed to go to and which areas she’s not, etc. I pass her off to the ladies in the office and let them start training her. That’s most of my interaction with her.

I’d pop by the office throughout the week to see how she was doing and get any updates on her performance.
I start to think about what I’m going to do. Do I want to keep this lady on staff? Is it even worth taking any revenge? If yes, what should I do?

I finally made my decision on Thursday. See, through my conversations with her, I’ve found out she’s been wanting to get into this plant for a LONG time. This was like a dream job for her.

The placement agency was sending her over an hour away to commute and she’d end up quitting and letting the agency know she preferred a shorter commute. I decided I’m going to lead her on and make it seem like she’s going to be staying with the company before letting her go unexpectedly.
So on Thursday, I set up an appointment with her to finish up some training. I just had a power point presentation I went over with new employees. In the training, I get to talk to her a little more and ask her if she’s been living in the city for a while.

She says yes and I ask her what part? She mentioned she lives near the park near my uncle’s house.
I let her know, ‘Oh! I used to go to that park all the time!! I used to take my little cousin, but I stopped because I ran into this awful lady one day who threatened to have her husband beat me up because she wanted me to speak English.’

Her face changed.
It’s a weird thing I noticed. Her face went from kinda happy to straight scared.

I think she finally remembered me. I concluded the training and didn’t say anything else. Friday came and she showed up to work. When she went to lunch,I called the placement agency and told them to call her and let her know not to show up after lunch, we won’t be needing her anymore. I could do this because she wasn’t an actual employee, we just had a contract through the agency and didn’t need any valid reason to let her go.

There was also just something very satisfying about firing someone while they were at lunch.
I’m sure the office ladies aren’t too happy with me because they’re going to have to retrain a new person starting Monday, but it’ll be okay. By Felicia.” zx6rawr
23. The divorce that took everything away from the woman

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“Started a few years ago. I thought we were happy. We were your usual suburban professional couple. Financially secure, healthy, good love 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 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 ‘girlfriends.’ 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 FB 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 girlfriends.’

I took the boys iPad to the office, opened up FB messenger and watched in real time as my wife tore me down.

Her and JBC were making fun of me. All of my 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 sexting there was a sexual 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 few 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. I just copped 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 sexual with my wife completely into it, and JBC was sprinkling in ‘I love you’s.’

I consulted a lawyer, 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.

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 this, 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 money in any accounts we are joint on, leave her half alone. I had already redirected my paycheck to a new bank. I close our money 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 FB messenger screenshots, and I kill 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 to the hotel at about 8:30 and call the wife’s phone from the lobby. It goes straight to voicemail. 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 JBC’s 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 (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 bullsh*t saying it’s not what it seems, 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 our daughter, your parents and emailing it to everyone we know, is if you move out immediately.
(Wife was very prideful. Our daughter was going through a rebellious teen phase and her knowing probably would have forever killed their relationship.

Wife was also her parent’s 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 money market account. I’ve withdrawn my half of the money 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 my crap 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, there were movers 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 because I’ve already got my sh*t 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 kill 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 to 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’ up on 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 sisters 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 Tinderellas 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, the one that she will always pine for, and I get the bonus of having her come over for sex whenever I want it by dangling that carrot of maybe getting back together.

But that is never going to happen. [deleted]
22. Too many tows, DUIs, and arrests in one night…

Pixabay

“Friday night here in the country can get a little crazy sometimes so I don’t mind when my neighbors cause a ruckus or loud party as long as it’s not too crazy.

Tonight I’m on call for Virginia State Police towing rotation which means I’ve got 25 minutes to get to where ever the wreck/DUI/impound/etc., is.
As luck would have it, my neighbors are having a party and guess what’s blocking my driveway? That’s right, about 25-30 cars. I live down a dirt road at the end of a cul-de-sac, and it’s pretty narrow. One in one out type of deal, and with this rain we’ve been having, parking in the grass/clay/mud is really not the best idea.

Even with a 4×4, it can still get tricky.

I noticed a few cars coming in early this evening and walked over to my neighbor’s and made it clear I was on call and as long as they didn’t block the road or my driveway all would be good.
No problems here. Well, I get a call from my boss asking if I can go warm-up the Rotator and the light duty flatbed (tow trucks). It’s about 12:30 AM so I get my boots on and other gear because if I’m up, I might as well stay at the shop and clean a few things to stay busy and make the night move along.

I get in my car and as I’m backing out of the driveway, I notice I’m blocked in. I don’t mean by one truck, but by nearly 15 different vehicles. I calmly walk over to my neighbor’s about  a1/8th-mile hike and as I’m looking for them through the crowd of drunk teenagers, some idiot wants to know why I’m on his property (he’s not the property owner, I’ve never seen this classy gentleman before).
Finally, I find my neighbor and ask her if she can move the cars, I’ve got to go to work she says in a normal tone (doesn’t yell over the music) into the house, ‘whoever’s blocking the driveway next door move your trucks!’ Then slams the door in my face.

I knock again and she answers with a drunken, ‘Oh God, this b*tch again?’ (internally I’m thinking, ‘Alright then…’). I do my best to explain, I’m on call and need to get out of my driveway to go to work, she comes back sloshing a Natural Light exclaiming, ‘It’s a party, relax!!!!!” Shuts the door in my face and yells, ‘F*ck that b*tch,’ I smile and as I’m walking away, macho man throws a beer at me and cackles, ‘Yeah you best leave, go on, git!”

I get on the phone with dispatch and call for as many trucks as we have available tonight (about ten) and tell them to come on over, momma’s got some PPI’s (private property impounds).

I call police dispatch and ask if they’d send out an officer in case things get out of hand and as soon as he gets to my place, my rigs start rolling up and hooking vehicles up and taking them to the impound yard. We get down to the last three vehicles. A yellow Civic, gold Silverado and an old F-150
The Civic owner bolts to his car and takes off. The Silverado girl (pretty wasted) gets stuck and starts tearing up my property.

The officer walks over and she throws a fit. Long story short, she gets arrested for underage drinking and DUI.
The Ford owner doesn’t even show up.

I get to work after all the impounds and with me, I brought coffees and snacks for my drivers. Tomorrow is not a business day which means if these tools want their cars back, it’s going to be the regular $289.50 plus two days of storage at $55 a day and a $100 gate fee. I make a note on every single storage sheet (papers that the vehicle owners get) to thank the girl who had the party for getting towed.

Several of the kids’ parents called wanting to know where there cars or trucks were.
I gave them the yard address and told them they can come anytime. As soon as they started shouting about illegal tows and threatened with lawyers, I showed them pictures of their cars with no parking signs. And explained that I tried to reason with the owner of the property (me) but she was tired of being blocked in by drunken teenagers.

There are signs on my road saying no parking, and not to block the driveway.

Don’t p*ss off a tow truck driver, she’ll legally take ALL your vehicles.” carbonlandrover
21. They blamed me for stealing, all I did was prove them wrong…

Pixabay

So after finishing a design program in school, I quit my temp job in financial services and started to focus on design.
A couple of friends were at a small events company that also had their own TV show, a video game, and lifestyle TV show, and they needed someone to help out on the show and do some of the other design work around the studio so that they could focus on pre-production.

Sounded amazing, so I went into their offices sat with them for a chat and started the same day.

At first, all was good. The boss seemed okay. He asked me to get a coffee with him (Let’s call him Drake) and kind of probed my background. I went to film school, worked as a camera assist and dop for a while before switching my focus to motion design and 3D.
This set off a lightbulb in his head and had me doing pre-production on the show.

I brought in a friend to help produce and everything went forward.
I worked on the show for about a year and a half, the show itself was fun, I got flown to E3, PAX and pretty much every major local gaming and cosplay expo. Worked with a bunch of famous cosplayers and minor expo celebrities and had a great time doing it. But during all this, I saw Drake slowly push me making jokes about me and the producer, inappropriate comments about our personal lives, angry outbursts for no real reason, the inability to reason or compromise, and later, saw how dodgy the business was.

Getting quotes from suppliers and then in the middle of the project calling and demanding they lower their quote or not be paid. Making behind the scenes deals with sponsors of the show to take marketing budgets put it into the show but then split the money with the marketing manager who made the deal, taking prizes that were intended as giveaways for the show and just selling the product on eBay to line his pockets.

All the while, I figured, I’ve been here a while, I see him burn people every day, but surely it won’t happen to me.

He owes me more than that.
I’m making this show for him, did the title sequence, the graphics package, secured sponsors, organized social media, shot the show, edited, mastered and delivered. Oh, how wrong I was.

Things started getting worse, a bunch of big events were happening, and in addition to the show, I had to help out with the events work, I was burnt out but had a trip coming up, so had to stick it out until it was all paid for and over.

I had already decided I was going to leave for my trip and not return to the company. In the weeks before my leave, the major event happened and during the event, something with some location audio went wrong, it didn’t really have anything to do with me, but he grabbed me by the collar and told me if I didn’t fix it he would kill me.
That was my ‘whoa’ moment. This guy is actually a sociopath. I figured I needed to take some precautions to protect myself as I still had a week until I’d be leaving and then I was out.

I started by packing all of my gear at the studio and getting it out of there. Each day I’d stay back late and pack as much as I could. By this point, the whole show was operating on my equipment, my camera, my lenses, my sound equipment, my raids, my software licenses. So I got that all out. I then backed up every piece of correspondence I had from him, all my invoice emails, any requests in writing, any receipts, etc.

I got my last invoice in, and let him know that I was off and would see him when I got back (again no plans of going back, but best to keep that from him until my invoices were paid out). On the day of my flight, he called me five or six times asking about footage from the major event. It was all stored on my drive but wasn’t scheduled to be cut down until well after my return. This was an insurance policy.

Technically I signed no contract with him, so I owned that footage. I called him and said it’s not scheduled to be cut down yet, but it’s on the server, knowing he wouldn’t know how to check that anyway.
A week into my trip, I sent an email asking why my invoices hadn’t been paid yet. I had previously asked that they are prioritized given my holiday, and he agreed. I was met with an email from the troll he hired as an ‘events coordinator’ but really she was just the receptionist with a fancy title.

She stated that there was an ongoing police investigation, as I had clearly robbed the office before leaving. All of the equipment was missing, drives, footage erased from the server (not true), etc. She included a police event number and said if I didn’t return all equipment and pay the company $5,000.00, they would be pressing charges against me.
I laughed and fired back that all of the missing equipment is mine, but I’m happy to look over any receipts they have for it.

I immediately called the police and gave the officer the event number and asked what was going on. She explained that a woman (the office troll) came in and made claims that I had stolen from the business but had no evidence and was advised she would need to provide proof, but never returned to do so. I told her about them demanding I pay up $5,000.00 or they’d press charges. The police officer took a statement from me in case it went further as this was a clear case of extortion.

I just wanted out, and they were willing to go to these lengths to weasel me out of the money I earned killing myself for them? I was p*ssed off, to say the least. And I knew enough about their business to destroy them.
Step 1, I immediately sent my unpaid invoices to a collections agency. They straight away fired off a letter of demand, which informed Drake of my desire to seek the unpaid invoices as well as legal costs should it come to that via the legal system.

I got all of those backed up emails together, that prove I was working on the days I invoiced them, and since my invoices are itemized by project, those emails should match with the specific projects I was working on.
Step 2,  I start hitting him where it hurts. For starters their only software licenses were mine. Prior to my arrival, they were operating entirely on pirated software. I didn’t touch any of their software while doing work for them. 3D was handled on my own machines.

We started doing post in the creative cloud and I left their pirated FCP licenses alone. So aside from uninstalling my own software and plugins from their machines, everything was back to the way it was before I left. So I reported his company to the BSA (The Software Alliance) and was surprised when I heard back immediately.
Drake was running 5 or so edit suites with pirated copies of Creative Suite, FCP, Microsoft Office, Maya, 3DS Max, etc. A lot of expensive software.

The guy who emailed me back asked if he could call me and basically told me that they often have no way of knowing if a company is using pirated software so they really rely on tips such as mine to go after companies. I forwarded him emails where I had advised Drake that we needed a specific piece of software and the cost involved and his responses where he would CC me in and ask the ‘IT guy’ to pirate the software.

This was pretty much all they needed to fully implicate Drake. The guy then asked me to let them know how many computers were in the office and I provided him with a map of Drake’s office, with locations for each computer and the server, and a list of all software on each machine. Really easy to get this as I still had access to their servers and could remote into each computer.
Step 3,  I discredit the business. I put out some business reviews on Google so that people would know what kind of shady operation Drake is running.

I filed a copyright claim against their showreel since the entire reel was made up of projects I did for them and I never signed over those rights.
I commandeered a web player service they were using to host and monetize the TV show and removed each episode and deleted the account. I took over their Twitter page and posted info about how the company would rip off clients. I emailed a couple of major games expo’s who he had partnered with for both the events and TV show and let them know about how he would regularly have me alter footage to make it appear as though he was delivering on contractual obligations, (comp in twitch.tv logos to make it seem like he was live streaming events, add banners where there weren’t any, etc.).

Minor things, but things these companies were paying him to do. I even adjusted the “About Me” part of the website. And it wasn’t very flattering.
Now I still had a friend working there, so was informed of every reaction. Every time he shouted my name in anger I knew about it. The BSA fined him over $60,000. When Drake heard the news, he threw his iPhone against the glass wall in his office smashing it. I received a very nice reward for turning him in.

He held out on paying my invoices until the very end sending threatening emails the whole time and demanding that I pay him money for the trouble I’ve put him through.
It went to court, I didn’t need to attend. I won the entirety of my invoices as well as the cost of taking him to court. He basically paid for me to sue him.

That year was the last year for the show, likely had trouble getting sponsors after I emailed all of them about the way he was selling prizes on eBay and sent them a link to his eBay store page.

He also no longer had involvement in some of the major gaming expos he’d previously done events work for, – those two losses would have cost him a few hundred grand a year.
The page on the website was up for months, when he found it, he again smashed his phone, this time though, he didn’t have a glass wall to break, as he had to move out of the very nice office with water views to a small sh*tty office in a strip mall.

I think he was having financial difficulties.

It was on this night that he drunk called me and threatened to kill me. I celebrated his call by deleting all of the footage I had taken of that major event, the budget for the event was over a million dollars, and a lot of that footage was the only proof he had even done the event.
Five camera operator’s footage, crane footage, drone footage of the venue, all recorded sound from mics, all gone.

Knowing he’d never be able to get that back was great. Plus his threatening phone call along with the extortion attempts that were on file were enough to get a restraining order put out against him, and I cannot wait until he inevitably messes up and tries to do something again.” Mangelius
20. I wonder how he managed to get back into his car that day?

Pixabay

“When I was in high school, my first car was a cheap little Geo that I’d bought with money I’d saved working my a*s off at the neighborhood pizza joint.

Obviously, it was nothing special, but it was mine and I was proud of it.

I lived in a very affluent suburb in the Midwest at the time though, and a majority of my peers drove much nicer cars — either daddy’s BMW or a BMW daddy bought for them.

I was a junior at the time, and there were a handful of bullies (seniors) who decided that because I drove a dated, inexpensive car, I deserved to be subjected to constant ridicule and harassment.

I was constantly being called ‘poor’ and laughed at for driving ‘such a cheap piece of sh*t.’ In reality, my family was actually decently well off.
My parents could’ve bought me a brand new Mercedes if they’d wanted, but they came from nothing and wanted me to earn my first car.
Let’s call the leader of this bullying group Tad. Tad was utterly obnoxious to almost everyone around him, but usually got away with it because he was A) attractive, B) a straight-A student, and C) a talented player on every sports team our high school offered.

The whole conflict started one day after school. I was in my little Geo, in the line of cars waiting to leave the parking lot. Tad was in front of me, in his Audi A4.
When we were nearing the parking lot exit, Tad stopped to lean out the window and chat to some of his friends. I had to work at the pizzeria that day and was in a hurry, so being impatient, I sped around him. Tad must’ve interpreted my passing him as some sort of hostile affront to his ego, and sped up behind me.

After finally turning onto the main road, he stayed right on my bumper and followed me to work. When I got out of my car, he leaned out the window and called me some names. I ignored him and went into work.
When I got out of work 4 hours later, I found both of my mirrors broken. I didn’t have proof, but I knew it was Tad. Luckily, my parents felt bad for me and paid for me to have them fixed that week.

Next week, however, came the straw that broke the camel’s back.
It was a Friday and I’d stayed late after school working on a history paper in the school library. I happened to get out right after the lacrosse team had finished up practice. When I came out to the parking lot, I saw Tad standing next to my car.
What was he doing? Taking a p*ss on the driver’s side door. Filled with rage, I ran after him but he managed to get to his car and peel out of the parking lot.

At home, feeling defeated as I washed his p*ss off my car, I decided revenge was in order. I didn’t know how, yet, but I knew an opportunity would come. And it did.

Two weeks later, word had spread around the school that this senior named Doug was having a big party the coming weekend. Doug was incredibly popular, and I knew Tad would be there. I also happened to know Tad would be driving his Audi there.
And I knew where Doug lived, and that most of the people, Tad included, would be staying the night.

I enrolled the help of my two closest friends, Ben, and Josh who both hated Tad just as much as I did, though for different reasons, and they were more than eager to lend their ‘help’ when I told them my scheme.

The night of the party, we waited until 4 AM when we knew the party would be dead and everyone would be sleeping. We showed up wearing all dark clothes and plastic gloves. We found Tad’s car, and much to our amazement (and glee), he’d left it unlocked.

We opened the doors and quietly went to work, trying to keep from laughing too loudly.
First, I peed into the air vents. I got out, and Josh peed all over the leather driver’s seat. Then, it was Ben’s turn. Now, let me tell you, Ben is a disgusting human being. He’s a loud, funny guy, all smiles and laughter, but he’s also just gross. Constantly belching and farting. And it always smells so, so rancid when he does. He’s the type of dude who takes pride in that.

Ben pulls down his pants, and whispers, ‘I wonder if he’ll be able to tell I had Chinese food,’ squats next to the car, and proceeds to take a poop into his gloved hand.
The smell is immediately overwhelming and horrifyingly gruesome. It’s so potent you can taste it. Josh and I gag right away, frantically pulling our shirts over our noses and retreating from Ben’s vicinity. Josh can’t take it, runs over to a tree, and pukes his guts out. Ben laughs and says, ‘Oh my god that is SICK, sorry!’ While we’re watching from a distance in both horror and amusement, Ben takes his warm gift and just starts smearing it everywhere.

All over the door handles, the steering wheel, the air vents, the radio knobs… He eventually starts gagging and coughing and retreats himself, but not before wiping himself with the lacrosse jersey Tad had left in the back seat.
We couldn’t stop laughing on the walk back to Josh’s house.

The following Monday there were a lot of whispers going around the school. Here’s what I eventually learned happened:

The morning after the party, Tad discovered the nightmare in his Audi, in front of everyone else who was leaving.

He went into a rage, but apparently, almost everyone thought it was the funniest thing they had ever seen.
When Tad’s parents discovered what happened to the car they’d purchased for their son, they also discovered Tad had been to a party and had been drinking. I guess his parents were not cool with it – they took away his car for the rest of the year and Tad was told he had to ride the bus for the remainder of the year.

His parents eventually gave him the car back several months later, but no one wanted to ride in “The sh*tmobile” because of what happened, and because he never got the smell completely out. Tad’s bullying surprisingly died down a bit after that. He didn’t mess with my car again.” out-of-phase
19. The mailbox helped us catch a culprit

Pixabay

“My best friend and I are both sons of police officers. His dad was a Highway Patrolman and mine was a Deputy Sheriff and detective.

They are both retired now and living comfortably. This story happened shortly after we both graduated high school about 15 years ago.
My buddy and I grew up in a rural area and for the most part, was very quiet. We rarely had any problems. That changed when one weekend morning my friend’s family discovered their mailbox smashed and scattered along the road in front of their hose. They chalked it up as a hit and run, gathered up the mail, bought and posted a new mailbox and went on with life.

The next weekend, it happened again.
Flashback to a few months before my buddy’s dad retired. He decided he didn’t want to quit working so he went down to the local trade college and became certified as a welder.
After the second time, their mailbox was destroyed, my buddy called me over to his house and we all went to work. Buddy and his dad did the welding and cutting, I did the grinding and his mom (who is a fantastic artist) did the painting.

Throw in two bags of cement, seven feet of steel pipe, and the necessary re-bar and you can probably guess where this is going.

We built an all steel reinforced mail bunker, and set it in with three and a half feet of concrete and road base. Remember my friend’s mom whose a really good artist? She painted it so that it looked like it was made out of wood.
The steel post looked incredibly realistic, even up close, let alone at night driving a car 45 miles an hour.

We posted the box had dinner and I went home.

A couple of weeks went by and bingo. My friend called me around 7:00 am on a Sunday morning and told me to get over to his house ASAP. When I came around the turn to their house, there it was in full glory. A 92 Pontiac Grand Prix wrapped around a steel pole almost to the passenger compartment. The car was abandoned but all the necessary information needed for an arrest was there.

It took a couple of days to track the owner down and sure enough, he confessed. However, there was also a half-empty bottle of Canadian Host and beer cans all over the back seat, so he got an open container charge too. Add the cost of a tow truck and the medical bills for smashing his face into a steering wheel and that criminal mischief charge added up real quick. I later found out my friend’s little brother stole the guy’s CD book too.

Realizing the mail bunker could get someone hurt we repainted it after fixing it to something more conspicuous.
To add some context, we know what we did could be potentially dangerous to others, we’re not idiots. However, when we placed the new box and pole it was well within my friend’s property line, and off the road. Their family owns a farm and has the acreage to spare. My friend’s dad cleared off a large area with his tractor, packed the ground down and added a layer of road base.

He made it large enough that the postal worker could park and be completely off the road to access the mailbox.

Also, in order to get to the family’s driveway, you had to drive through a soft turn.
Anybody driving so fast that they might accidentally hit the box would roll their vehicle way before they would get near the box. Assuming people are following the posted speed limit (and not a complete moron) there would be no way to hit this box unless you went out of your way to do so.” Punch_Drunk_AA
18. An “interesting call” led to a private investigator 

Pixabay

“This story begins almost a year ago.

I received a call from an unknown number on my cell phone. It was an automated message to call an 888 number in regards to serving me papers. I knew right away this may have been a collection agency.
Googled the number and confirmed it.

Now I have to disclose I did have identity theft almost 20 years ago. To this day, I occasionally get calls from collection agencies trying to collect on some debt from 20+ years ago that was cleared. Now most of the time when I get these calls, I ask for their address to send in a dispute letter including the accompanying data for proof that I had identity theft.

Granted, they should not be calling me, but they apologize and I don’t get another call. Plus, they usually mail me back and said they closed the account.
Well, I go to call this person and I got to say the call was interesting. This woman answered and I gave her my information. She started rattling off a debt that was back in 1995. I let her finish and I told her that I had no knowledge and there was identity theft.

And as soon as I said that, she freaked out. She kept saying she knew the debt was mine and I’m going to pay. I kept telling her that I wanted to mail a letter. But she flat out refused. When I told her I knew my rights, she said that I had the right to pay the debt.
She then said that she is going to put a lien on my ‘huge pretty house’ (her words) and she was describing the house to the letter.

She also said she is going to put a lien on my Lexus that she ‘sees’ in the driveway. And she said that my gate in the front won’t stop the repossession. She then hung up.
Now, I knew better. All she did was get my info from public records and then saw my house on Google Street View. My guess is that she tried to push this intimidation on other people that know better.
So far it appeared to be a very disreputable company.

I also had phone recordings when I called in. And they were legal as I asked her if phone calls can be recorded for quality control purposes. She said of course. And I said, ‘Thank you, I’ll take that as my consent.’

I would of just let this go and just say this lady was crazy. But I kept getting the automated phone calls and I couldn’t block them as they were unknown. I Googled the company and I thought they were in Ohio.

There were a couple of flags that led me to believe this was that the person who owned this company in Ohio was being indicted with charges as an attorney.
I placed a complaint with the Ohio Attorney General. They couldn’t find any information on what I was submitting. They did call the phone number I gave them and the attorney general told me they would stop from calling me. But that is all the attorney general could do. I also complained to the Federal Consumer Finance Bureau who is supposed to be looking into these issues.

But they blew me off.

Well, three months later, I called this number. I had an idea of maybe pressing buttons when I called in to see if I could get more information about the company through the interactive voice response.
Well, that paid off. As soon as I pressed ‘0’, I got a different company name. I Googled that company and got tons of complaints. This led me to the company existing in NY. I complained to the attorney general of NY with all of my new info.

I did quite a bit of research over the next couple of weeks and found out a whole bunch of information, like the owner’s name. I found out that the address where the company no longer received mail was at the owner’s address, their Facebook account, etc. I then got another one of those unknown phone calls.
But this time, it’s a different company. I’m sure you get what I am getting at – the company just keeps changing the name, but the parent company still calls.

I finally had enough of this.

I get a private investigator involved and they were quite satisfied with all the information I had so far. So I let him do his business. Well, he calls me back saying that this company isn’t even registered and it’s run by this one lady. I find out that the rude lady who I was talking to is the supposed owner, but not running a legitimate business.
I got a process server to file a claim in NY.

Granted, I think I could have done it where I was at. But I was heading up to that area in NY anyway as I had some family reasonably close. The problem was she was not able to be served. The house which she owned, she was not able to be served at. Either she was not there or was staying somewhere else. Well, my private investigator started sending out friend requests to her and the people in her friend’s lists.

Her friends and then she accepted the facebook request.
My private investigator found out that she cheated on her boyfriend about a month ago since she posted that crap. The private investigator gave me an idea of trying to reach her boyfriend and if he can lead us to serve her, I will give him $500. We did that and sure enough, we were finally able to serve this lady at her parent’s house about 20 miles from where she was at.

I fly up to NY and since it’s small claims, it’s just me and this lady. For some reason, her mother is there too, but she is not representing.
I give the judge all of my info I had over the months and how she broke the law. She broke debt collection laws and made threats over the phone. After the judge heard all the trouble I had with these calls and how she hid her identity purposely, the judge gave me the maximum amount of $3,000.

In NY, small towns and villages are limited to $3,000. After the case, I heard her mother loudly whispering (but I heard it) ‘You better hope he doesn’t take your house. Your great grandfather built this with his own bare hands.’

I was thinking, ‘Hmmm, it would be sweet revenge if I could actually put a lien on the house..’ Well lo and behold, I found out the house had a second mortgage attached to it.
With the property value of the house and if it sold, I wouldn’t end up getting the lien money since the secondary mortgage was almost as much as the house.

I was then contemplating how I was going to get the money from this lady. My private investigator calls me five months later and said her house is going into foreclosure. I get a proxy to bid for me. But as in most foreclosure actions, the bank buys it back as an REO. I decided to send in a low ball offer to buy the house a couple of months later. The bank accepted my offer.
My guess is that it’s a small town and trying to get the right market was an issue.

You may be wondering why I even bought this house? Well here’s why. This dumb bunny threatened to put a lien on my house with no merit. Well, guess what, I took her house! It was completely worth it. It didn’t cost me too much and I had the money. The house is actually in decent shape, just a little small. Plus it will be a nice summer home when I go to visit my relatives. Oh, and I decided to rub in salt to the wound.

I sent a letter to her parent’s address letting them know I took the house. I told them that if their daughter wouldn’t be in the business of scamming people, they may not have lost the house. I also go to find out that the Attorney General of NY is now investigating this lady. I hope they throw the book at her! Not going to mention the collection agency, but if you stopped getting phone calls from them, you’re welcome!” quitethunder
17. The DHL delivery couldn’t have had better timing…

Pixabay

“This story starts off with a slightly less humorous fact.

A few days ago, I was on the unfortunate end of credit card fraud.
The fraudsters decided to take my CC info and purchase $1000 worth of car parts from Philly and have it sent across the border to the city I currently live in, Vancouver, Canada.

Normally, this is where the story ends. Sometimes they get away with it, sometimes they don’t, but either way, my card is replaced and I continue on living my life. This, however, is where the fun starts happening.

I got a call this morning about a DHL shipment entering the country that required customs to be paid. Knowing I haven’t shipped anything with DHL in forever (they are the worst), I quickly come to the realization that it must be the fraudsters shipping their goods here.
‘It can’t be!’ I thought. Who in their right mind would use a stolen credit card to order something to their own house in the city where the owner of the car lives?!
After a brief chat with DHL about the customs fees I will not be paying, I manage to obtain the address the package was being sent to.

I hummed and hawed about it but eventually decided the best thing to do was call the local police department and let them know what was up.

I told the officer all about the situation, and that unfortunately, I did not know what car the parts were for and that I hope this info helps them somehow in the future.
He tells me that the chances are slim but he will swing by the house (it’s literally 15 minutes from my own) just to see if anything weird is going on and follow up with me if he needs to.

I thank him and go on with my work day.

About an hour later I get a call from the same officer, obviously excited.

‘Hi AtelierVieuxPont, It’s Officer X. You will never guess what just happened. I was following up on the report and drove by the house. I decided to go knock on the door just to see if anyone was home and ask them a couple of questions.
A man opened the door and as we were talking, DHL drove up to deliver the package.

Yes, that’s right, the exact package we had been discussing. The delivery driver walks up to the door and says, “Hi, is AtelierVieuxPont there?” to which the man replies, “Oh yeah, he’s just downstairs.” You can imagine my surprise! “That’s pretty funny because I just got off the phone with him and I know for a fact he doesn’t live here,” I said. The guy, no joke, looks me dead in the face and goes, “Oh whatever, the package is paid for.” I chuckled and turned to the DHL driver to tell him should leave because I need to make an arrest.

I’m calling you while I drive back to the precinct, thought it might brighten your day!’

I still cannot believe that they caught the guy.” AtelierVieuxPont
16. He was stealing lunches, so I spiked his burger…

Pixabay

“I was working a very demanding job. We had 3 shifts and they were staggered to overlap by 3 to 4 hours to increase production. I worked the third shift from 7 pm to 7 am and had to bring my lunch because we weren’t near anything open then except for a gas station.

A few of us noticed our lunches were being eaten. Typically, it was anything in a bag from a restaurant or a Tupperware container.
Often all the lunches were pilfered and dessert or snack items were taken. We spoke to management about it but they were hesitant to do anything. They suggested it was one of us doing it to our fellow shift members.

One day, my entire lunch, drinks, everything was taken. I had to buy candy bars and soda to eat, and a co-worker shared some of his remaining lunch with me.

So basically 12 hours of very physical work on candy and a bit of rice.
I was absolutely furious. I knew it wasn’t my shift members and they were just as angry as I was.
I told them that I was going to set a trap and we would get some vengeance on the person who had been stealing our food.

I stopped by McDonald’s on the way to work the next few days and ordered a quarter pounder with the cheese on the side.

I had gathered some palmetto bugs (giant flying roaches, about 2 inches long) and put two on the burger and placed the cheese on the top. I then labeled the bag and put it in the fridge. I was careful to throw it away each day and replace it with a new one.
I really, REALLY wanted to burn this bastard.

On day 3, I came down to the lunchroom and the bag was in the garbage. I was just giddy thinking of what happened.

I dug through the trash and found the bag, the box from the burger and the burger with a few big bites out of it. Our entire shift was laughing our butts off all night. In the morning, I was told to stick around and meet with the plant manager. I was confused and scared, but I technically did nothing wrong.

I get sent into his office and here is a second shift employee, recently hired, and the brother of a long time employee.

I’m told how he ate some food and a person had placed roaches on it. So I was the bad guy. I explained that I did, in fact, have a burger with roaches on it, but that’s my business. He shouldn’t have been stealing food, he countered by saying that he thought it was his. I pulled the bag out of my backpack. With my name on each side. He wanted to receive an apology and be excused from work for his inconvenience.

The manager said he would discuss it further with me and asked him to leave. He said he knew I had set a trap, I didn’t respond.
He started laughing and said he would give him a written warning for stealing food. But I was told not to put any roach food in the fridge from that day forward.

I told EVERYONE I talked to that he was the one stealing food. His brother tried to make me the bad guy for baiting him with a roach burger, but the damage was done.

He was being trash talked and confronted all week.  Finally, he resigned.

I still get a good laugh thinking about him biting into the burger and getting juicy roach guts in his mouth.” keepingItreal24-7
15. He was in bed with my girlfriend, so I hit him with a wooden paddle on his behind

Pixabay

“So there I was, on my birthday at the stroke of midnight, just given a 3/4 day of paid time off from my eternally crappy job working 3rd shift at a factory.

I think to myself, ‘Awesome! I’ll go home and maybe get a little bow chicka bow owwww…” I mean, I’ve been dating her for the past 6 years, and I always get a little birthday lovin’. But there’s always the chance I won’t. No big deal.

I walk in the door, all is quiet, which instantly strikes me as kind of strange.  She usually watches TV at this time of night. Maybe she just passed out? I think nothing of it.

So I am walking back to our bedroom when I hear it.

The unmistakable headboard against the wall with slight, barely audible womanly moans coming from the bedroom.
I promptly freeze. After a few seconds, I quietly sit down on the cold linoleum floor and think to myself, ‘she’s cheating on me, on my birthday, in OUR bed, in the house that I pay rent! WTF?!’

But, there’s one thing that everyone who knows me, knows about me. I don’t act rashly. Ever. I think things through, and you REALLY don’t want to get on my revenge side.

It’s cold, and it’s calculating. I have been referred to as Spock on a number of occasions.
So the plan is hatched for instant revenge. She only likes to make love in the dark.
I have really good dark vision. She does not. The house is pitch black. ‘I’ve got this,’ I mutter to myself.

I quietly enter the bedroom, and proceed to head to the always open closet across from the bed, and proceed to grab our wooden studded paddle from. It is everything in my power to hold back my infuriation with the situation.

I grab the paddle, and a box that was on top of it falls, making a very loud noise. I crouch down to stay hidden and think to myself, ‘Crap, here I am catching her cheating on me and I’m about to be the one that gets caught…’

But…

They don’t stop.
He’s a madman on a mission to finish which he’s obviously very close to doing. I get to the end of the bed, and stand there in full batter’s swing, ready, waiting for the right moment.

It was quite an ETERNITY waiting for a man that is with my girlfriend of six years, in my bed, in my house, on my birthday, to finish up.

And then it happens. He’s done, I instantly realize she’s doing this – without protection! I spring out the full swing, now with the added hatred of her not using protection and WWWWWWHHHHHHAAAAAACKKKKKKK.

That blood-curdling wince and then eventual cry was absolute MUSIC to my ears.
It was a direct hit to the backside.

She asks, ‘What in the hell just happened??!?’  His reply is, ‘Something just smacked my bottom so hard I think I’m bleeding….’

This is when I personally think it hit her.

She frantically rushes to the side of the bed to flick on the bedside lamp.

Click. And there I am, standing there tall and proud. Safety glasses still on, holding what I have now dubbed the meat grinder in hand. Staring down at the both of them with an unholy, unflinching gaze. I am staring a stare of psychic withdrawal inducing soul destruction, unwavering in its intensity.
And then I focus my gaze directly into his eyes. Calm as a statue, and officially shut down all emotions at this point.

It is now that I realize that he was a man that I’ve known for years. Not necessarily a friend, but someone who I trusted, and knew I trusted.

I have never seen a man get his clothes together and get out the door so fast in my life. Ever. He was gone in an instant.

She looks at me. I look at her. And I say the inevitable truth. ‘You know that every single one of my past girlfriends has cheated on me, and you know EXACTLY what that means…’

‘I’m dead to you huh…’ She replies in a dejected, monotone voice of humility.

‘After you leave tonight, I will not recognize either of your existences if we meet again… I will more than likely never speak to you.’

While standing there, staring at her the whole time, she gets up, head hanging in shame. Gathers clothes. Gets in her car, and leaves. That’s when everything in me just collapses. My heart, my soul, my emotions, my ego, and pride… everything. I proceed to go to the living room, crack a beer, and cry for 8 hours.

I’m a man, but I’m only human.

The next day her mom calls me up and asks, ‘What in the hell happened last night?’ So I tell her.
She bursts out laughing at her daughter’s stupidity, and my retaliation, and heads on over for a little bit more of a talk instead of on the phone.” The_Infamous_
14. She instantly started wishing she never had the party to begin with…

Pixabay

“My sister Lilith was, and still is, a grade A b*tch. When I was growing up she used to bully me relentlessly.

She would call me names, break my stuff, blame my parent’s divorce on me and even physically abuse me until I got old enough to hit back. At school, she used to get all her friends to bully me as well, and because a bunch of older kids was always cornering me, calling me fat and ugly, I never had any friends.
No one wanted to be anywhere near me because of her, and she always made a point of letting me know just how much better then me she was.

When I was younger, I believed she was better. She was prettier, wore better clothes, had a ton of friends and was into girly stuff like makeup and fashion while I was still in my teddy bear Barbie stage. You could just tell me that this is all stupid kids stuff, but it only got worse as we got older.

By the time she was sixteen, I was just turning twelve, and the bullying had never ceased.
Because of the type of person I was, I thought that if I did everything she said, she might actually like me, but this only encouraged her to take advantage of me.

Things like cleaning her side of our room, getting her drinks, making her food, doing any housework mum asked her to do, and even giving her my pocket money, were completely normal. But despite doing everything she said, she was always nasty, and not just to me.
Sometime later and my mum was dating this guy (we shall call him Matt). Matt was, and still is, great. He was really nice to all of us, bought us presents, made a point to get to know us, even took both me and Lilith on separate days out so we could both spend some alone time with him, which always made me feel special.

I was thirteen when they got married, and we moved in with him. Matt made quite a lot of money, so both Lilith and I now had separate bedrooms and I could not have been happier. Enter Matt’s son. Our mastermind. We shall refer to him as Megamind.

He was older than me but younger then Lilith, so when we moved into his house, I was terrified that Mega would be like Lilith. However, I was completely wrong. Mega was (and still is) the best brother.

He never made me feel like I was unwanted. He let me play on his consoles, got me into reading, helped me with my homework, even encouraged me to make friends knowing how my sister’s treatment of me affected my trust in people.
Mega was the sibling I always wanted and never got to have, and Lilith just kind of faded into the background for a while. Then, some years later, Mega brought a friend home from university. His name shall be Nick.

Nick and Mega were best friends. They did practically everything together and had the truest bromance of any two men I’ve ever met. But there was evil lurking. Evil that wished to break the bromance forever. The first time Lilith saw Nick, I swear there were stars in her eyes, and she had to capture this innocent soul into her trap, by any means necessary.
And poor Nick. Poor poor Nick.

Despite both me and Mega telling him repeatedly what kind of person she was, Lilith entranced this innocent boy with her looks and her charms and they soon started dating.

Soon, whenever Nick would come over to the house to hang out with Mega, Lilith would show up and drag him away, making it all about her. She started arguments with Mega about spending to much time with HER boyfriend and that he needed to stop and leave them alone, to which Mega always laughed in her face and told her, not too kindly, to eff off.
Mega wasn’t like me. He didn’t take any of her crap and I deeply respected him for that.

However, this evil demon was not used to being disrespected and so she hatched a wicked plan.
She started trying to separate Mega and Nick. If Nick came over to be with Mega she would always make him feel guilty about not spending enough time with her. She would start fights with Mega and then act like the poor victim over texts to Nick, Nick would then call Mega all upset and angry and Mega would try to explain that Lilith was just trying to manipulate him.

All of this I saw as a spectator. Mega would tell me every time Lilith did something sneaky to try and break his friendship with Nick, and I believed everything he said because I knew what kind of a person she was. Lilith’s manipulation strategy over Nick went on for some time.

Then one day, Lilith and Mega had a massive fight. It ended with Nick yelling that Mega’s been against his relationship with Lilith from the beginning and he didn’t know what Mega’s problem was, but if he was forcing him to choose between him or Lilith, he chose his girlfriend.

Now I know a lot of you will call Nick stupid, but don’t. I knew how manipulative Lilith could be. She was a master at making people feel sorry for her and getting them on her side even when she was horrible to them, just like she did with me. That night I had to listen to Mega cry for the first time since I knew him, and I had enough.

I knocked on his door, asked him if he was alright, we ordered a pizza, and we started to plot.

Mega was rather defeated by this point but I told him that if his friendship with Nick meant anything, he had to get him away from that demon spawn before he lost his friend for good.
And so we plotted.

Lilith spent the entire weekend with Nick, and came back all happy and smug, rubbing it in Mega’s face that Nick had chosen her, but via our plan, Nick said nothing back, acted defeated and let her talk. For the next few weeks, that’s all she did.

Whenever Nick came over to the house, she would spend time with him in her room, and when he’d leave, she’d prance around Mega, bragging about how much Nick loved her and asking Mega snidely if he missed his ‘little friend’. Every time she did this, her focus was entirely on Mega, she never once looked at me, and that was her biggest mistake.
Finally, the day of her twenty-first birthday had arrived. Nick and Mega hadn’t spoken in weeks, and the few times Nick had gingerly tried to make things up with Mega, Lilith would walk in screaming about how he had already chosen her and that if he wanted to be friends with Mega again, then their relationship was over.

Nick would always look miserable but would side with her nonetheless. Mega had had enough. The fact that Lilith was making his best friend so unhappy purely for her own selfishness, snapped something in him, and he told me it was time to put our plan into action.
This was where my part of our plan finally took center stage.

For her twenty-first birthday, she’d arranged to have her party at the house since it was huge and more than enough space for all of her university friends.

Our parents had agreed but only under the condition that there was no underage drinking and that both Mega and I were allowed to stay in the house. My sister reluctantly agreed, and thus the plan was in motion. On the morning of her birthday, I knocked on her bedroom door. She looked annoyed to see me and asked me snidely, “What do you want?”

I innocently told her I’d had the best idea.
I told her I wanted to record her for her twenty-first birthday.

I wanted to record her getting ready with her friends, talking about her plans after leaving university, record all her friends at the party, then set up the recording on a big projector Matt had in his office, so everyone could see it. This was before the time where smartphones were everywhere, so recording yourself was still something of a novelty, and I was using an old-fashioned camcorder I had gotten a few birthdays ago. Now, despite the fact that she did not like me, her wrath had been focused on Mega for so long that she most likely never saw me as a threat.

And because of this both she and her friends seemed to love the idea.

I spent the entire morning with them. Recording them all getting ready, putting on their makeup and, of course, introducing themselves to the camera. My sister was lapping it up. She looked into that camera’s eye like she was a supermodel movie star, preening and talking loudly about her successful future and how amazing her birthday party was going to be. That day I reverted back to my old role as a servant, fetched her and her friend’s drinks and food, and made a grand show of complimenting all of them and telling them how amazing they looked on camera, and that they could all be actresses some day.

They were loving it.
So, the party starts, and my sister told me to stay out of the way. I told her innocently that it was no problem. That I’d just stay in my room all night, edit the recordings, and come down to set up the camcorder when she was ready because I wanted this night to be perfect for her. Satisfied with my answer, she left my room. And I did exactly what I said I’d do. I edited my recordings.

A few hours later, and one of her friends came to my room and told me she was ready. The first part of the recordings was exactly what I promised.
My sister and her friends introducing themselves and laughing in her bedroom as they had been hours earlier. I looked at my sister, who seemed so satisfied that all the attention was on her, then I looked at Mega, who was hiding in the corner of the room, and gave him a subtle thumbs up.

Then the video started to change. It started to play clips of Lilith shouting at Mega, calling him names and taunting him about Nick. It started showing Lilith snidely telling Mega that Nick belonged to her and that she was going to do her best to make Nick hate Mega, so they would never be friends again.
It even showed clips of Lilith bragging about all the lies she’d told Nick and how he was ‘so gullible’. Every single argument I had recorded without her knowledge I’d edited into this video.

Everyone in the party was watching silently as Lilith’s true self was exposed clip after clip, while Lilith stood there frozen, completely unable to comprehend what was going on. When she finally snapped out of it, she turned on me, and started screaming, yelling at me and asking me, ‘How could you do this?’

I never said a word, I just smiled. When the recording stopped, Mega turned the lights on and everyone was staring at Lilith.
Clearly having no defense, she let out a loud cry and stormed up to her room, slamming the door so hard everyone heard it.

The next day Mega told me Nick had apologized for everything, and that he was stupid to so blindly believe everything she said. He even told me that Nick had thanked me specifically for helping him see what a monster my sister truly was. When my parents came home, both Mega and I were grounded for ruining Lilith’s birthday and for using Matt’s stuff without permission. But neither of us cared. Mega got his best friend back, and a few months later, Lilith moved out, since, after seeing the recordings of her behavior, my parents were disgusted by her, and they had absolutely no problems with showing it.

Since she no longer had any leverage over anyone in the house, she packed her bags and moved to stay in one of her college dorms. I’ve never had any problems with my sister since, and to this day Mega and I are as close as two siblings can be, and always laugh about the time we defeated the demon and saved us all from its clutches.” KindlyOffer
13. I told my dad I was gay—the perfect revenge…

Pixabay

“Ever since I can remember I have been completely and utterly under the thumb of my father.

All of us have been, us being me, my younger brother, little sister and my mother.
My father is a raging a$#hole. A male chauvinist, over the top macho type of guy. And I’ve always been the victim because I didn’t really fit in with his image of ‘the ideal son.’ I was, for lack of a better word, a bit of a girly boy growing up. I wanted nothing more than to dance and frolic around in dresses.

When I was four or five, my mother had this big box of dress-up clothes.

She brought it down from the attic and I immediately picked out the prettiest, frilliest golden colored dress I could find. I pranced around in it and declared myself a princess.
And that I was now a girl. This went on for a few months, but strictly during the day when my father was away at work. I watched ballet videos with my mother, a soft-spoken and open-minded woman who worked part-time as a social worker in those days. I was happy.

Careless.
My father was and is an authoritarian figure. He had himself legally emancipated at an early age just so he could join the army ahead of time. After three years in the army, he left as a lower level officer and started a career as a seaman. He was a captain when he and my mother met and had me.
Later he left his naval career and became a traveling salesman. Think Don Draper, if Don Draper was a 6’4” Western European man with curly greying hair and piercing blue eyes.

I’ve always found him incredibly intimidating and I think my mother did too.

Anyway, long story short… he came home early one day. He saw me in my dress and told me in an icy cold voice, ‘Go and take that off. After you take it off, go sit on the sofa.’

So, I took it off. Little hands trembling. Next, he summoned my mother into the room, and demanded to know, ‘what the hell she had been doing to his boy.’ I’ve never seen a person shrink so much so quickly.

I myself was like a little tiny fly on the wall at this point, barely present.

He took the box with clothes up to the attic. Put a lock on it and informed us that we were not to touch it “until my wife gives me a daughter”. It stayed there on the attic, untouched until my sister was born ten years later.

My father took more of an interest in my upbringing after this point. He took me to see navy ships, races, made me take a martial art.

He seemed determined to “make a man out of me” and in some ways, he succeeded.
One thing he allowed me to do was keep my hair long. Knowing I was bullied at school for it and wanted at times to cut it off for that reason. He insisted I kept the long hair, face the bullies and beat the sh$t out of them every time they called me a girl, to “show them how much of a girl I was”. I did just that.

It toughened me up, in some way. But it also damaged me in other ways.
By the time I went to college, I had grown into a pretty normal dude. I wasn’t gay, I wasn’t even a crossdresser although deep down inside I still had those urges.
I tried desperately to fit in and be what he wanted me to be but… I also grew more and more resentful. In college, I made a lot of different friends. Including some guys I met in an acting class we all took.

One of them was pretty much your typical ‘flaming and fabulous’ type of guy. He was as over-the-top gay as my father was over-the-top straight. I told him one night when we’re drinking about my upbringing and my terrible father. And my friend, let’s call him Paul, suggested I should ‘get back at him.’ I asked him how.
Basically, why not pretend like I wasn’t straight?

But not just, say it over the phone or something. Or even to my father’s face in person.

No, much better… I’d hint for weeks in advance about ‘having met somebody’ and ‘being in a relationship.’ I’d say it was a girl. I would ask if I could bring ‘Paula’ over for dinner. At Christmas. When the whole family would be there. And I’d arrive at the house with ‘Paul’ instead. So I did exactly that. I went to the house, at Christmas. Dressed to the nines. I told my father and mother that ‘Paula was caught up, she’s about to come.

I’ll just open the door.’ So I sat down with my family. Cousins. Uncles, aunts. My grandparents, just as conservative as my father.

Waited a while. Heard the door and rushed to open it. Walked into the living room where everyone was gathered and introduced Paul. My boyfriend. I’ve never seen a room go so quiet. People literally gasped for air. My sister, brother, and mother looked both scared and amused, but everyone else was in shock, my father seething… he just completely lost it.

Right in front of everyone. Veins bulging in his neck to the point where they looked like they were about to pop.
He told me to leave. Ordered me, essentially. My grandparents urged him not to make a scene but he made one. I just replied calmly how he should do it. Call the police and explain the situation to them. I knew he never would. He knew some of the officers well; it wasn’t a call he would be willing to make and it wasn’t a situation he was willing to explain.

I called his bluff and he just… sank. Like he shrank before my eyes. My mother and grandmother had to calm him down. He walked out of the room, defeated.
I just stood there, not believing my own eyes. I finally felt free. He had scared me for so many years, terrified me, and now I could see him for the caricature he really was. It felt amazing.
Paul and I stayed the whole evening. He played his part perfectly. He eventually managed to charm some of my aunts and even my grandmother, who told me unironically how she was glad, ‘I found such a delightful man,’ and that he reminded her of her favorite TV character, ‘Mr.

Humphreys from “Are You Being Served?” such a doll!’ My father later came back to the room.
Sat in a corner, sulking, refusing to meet my gaze. He drank too much whiskey. My mother kept talking to him in a hushed tone of voice, and he kept making a ‘go away’ gesture with his hand.

I stayed away from home for a while. I’ve already explained to everyone how it had been a prank. How I had to make a point and get back at my father for how he had treated me.

Pretty much everyone sympathized. I didn’t lose anyone in my family over what happened. But my father lost a lot of respect in people’s eyes, I feel.
He was always in control of things, he always directed the scene, but now he doesn’t anymore. I do my own thing. My sister does her own thing. He cannot order people around anymore. And I feel like a fool for ever letting him. I can now wear whatever the hell I want to wear, enjoy whatever hobbies I want to enjoy and nothing changes.

He threatened to disinherit me that night. He threatened a lot of things but in the end, something inside him just broke. All of my relationships since have been with women, and I have since married and had children of my own.
My younger brother came out as gay eventually, but by that time, my now aging father had mellowed down somewhat and as he already has grandchildren and his legacy is thus ‘secured,’ he didn’t seem to mind much. It helps that my brother is a muscular gymrat and that they can bond over sports, more then my father and I ever did.

But whenever the subject of sexuality comes up my father is still incredibly awkward. I don’t think it will ever change. But I feel my ‘revenge’ has been pretty successful in the end.”  Frownagay
12. I kicked him out of the house, he just had his underwear on…

Pixabay

“I found out around the end of April 2015 that this ex was cheating, once again.
Found out by looking through his phone (which he agreed to random checks to after the last incident). I hadn’t checked in a while so he apparently got too comfortable.

For some reason, I felt the urge that night to check his phone.

We had gotten an apartment together a few months prior that both of our names were on. That night, I looked through his phone and found that he was cheating, yet again, with some random girl he’d met. He was bragging to one of his friends and said, “She knows our relationship is over. We’re basically just roommates at this point.” As far as I knew, our relationship was going great.

I’d even spent hours that same night cooking him dinner and putting a brand new kitchen table together by myself because he was too much of a lazy butt to do it himself and I wanted him to have a nice place to eat for once.

After reading these texts, I woke him up and immediately told him to GTFO as we were done. He started putting on his pants and I said HELL NO no, GTFO right now with what you have.

What did he have on? TIGHTY WHITIES.

His phone was in my name. All of our cars (3 total) were in my name.
And I bought him the majority of his clothing throughout the years. We lived basically on a college campus that had only one gas station which was a mile away. I was also the only one working, so all of our income was mine.
I kicked him out, no shoes, no phone, no wallet, no money, no clothes, no car keys.

He walked a mile like that to the gas station to call his mom to come get him at 4 am.

I let him pick all his stuff up, a MONTH later, from the landlord’s all boxed up neatly. Immediately turned off the phone that same day and canceled his cards to my account.
He tried with all his might to get me back, stating that he knew I was the right one and he wanted to marry me. I said hell no.

I even got him to come clean the entire apartment a few weeks later while I napped after an extremely long day and he groveled. I woke up to tell him to GTFO again. Not to mention I threatened to take his past domestic violence issues against me to the police (had documentation) if he didn’t pay half of the rest of our rent up front since his name was also on the lease, to the tune of 3,000$ USD.
We live in a state famous for horse racing and he worked 12 hours a day for multiple days at the track (during May, the busiest time in the year for horse racing on the planet) to pay it while I was also there, dressed fabulously, drinking mint juleps.

It felt wonderful and I got together with my now-husband (who treats me great) the same week that I kicked him out. Best thing I’ve ever done. Just picturing him walking into a gas station at 4 am to ask to use the phone and call his mommy while naked still makes me giggle like a little girl close to 4 years later. Don’t cheat on me, especially not the 5th time around or I’ll screw you over, BIG TIME.” Inked_Chick
11. The meanest teacher comes back into our lives and we knew exactly what to do 

Pixabay

“When I was in eighth grade, I tried out for a spot on the drill team.

For those unfamiliar with that, it’s the group that dances alongside the marching band, and we were separate from the cheerleaders. Think the Rockettes, but awkward.

The reason I tried out was that those girls, you know the ones—pretty, popular, teacher favorites—laughed at me when I showed up for the informational meeting. They said I wasn’t right for it and didn’t belong. It made me more determined to learn the routines and become a little more fit so I could do them.

I was flexible as much as a 14-year-old could be but at home, I practiced and stretched and showed up for the rehearsals and tryouts.
Only a couple of decent girls would not act like I was poison in the line when we had to link our arms. I passed tryouts because I could do the routine.

My dad, who owned his own business doing car repair, wasn’t rich, but he managed to pay for my camp fees and uniforms. He dropped me off each morning of summer camp on his way to work.

There, we learned the routines we would be performing at pep rallies and football games. We had to stand out in the sweltering Louisiana heat and humidity in August and stand in position for minutes at a time.
If you moved out of position, you had to do ‘kicks.’ This was a version of pushups or having to run laps where you stood and did sets of 25 high kicks for each infraction. I ended up with blisters on my upper arms from the sun.

Oh, let me tell you about the sponsor (the teacher in charge). She was the epitome of a cranky old woman who had an only child who went through these dance teams and did private dance lessons. The daughter was perfect in her mom’s eyes. At the time, ‘Dance Moms’ wasn’t a thing but that’s exactly how she was.
She would berate me for the smallest thing and basically bully me along with the other girls. For example: when I was feeling faint for having to do kicks for the third time that day, I was sitting down beside another girl who had pulled a hamstring.

She is sitting with us while watching her daughter (who was our choreographer of course), commenting how wonderful she was, and said to me to get back out there. She could understand why the other girl was sitting, as she was an ‘athlete’ so she got a pass (she played basketball).

The cranky teacher would yell at me from across the gym to suck in my stomach.
She told me I was rude when I was eating lunch with everyone else and laughing at something someone said and coughed on my sandwich.

The other girls would say things to me also, and it was as though she encouraged it. Not only is junior high bad enough, but this on top of it was bad. I tried to be strong and show them I could do it but it made me cry as soon as I got home.

The night of our first game performance, I was waiting to be picked up with a few others and the cranky teacher to head out to the game.

The teacher went to the bathroom and came back with one girl who was caught smoking in the bathroom with some high school kids. The girl caught smoking was punished and was told she had to sit out the next game. My dad was running late (he had to work and couldn’t just leave his shop unattended) and after about 30 minutes the teacher told me, ‘You know this means you’re off the team.’

My dad pulled up a few minutes later and as soon as I got in his truck, I was sobbing.

I told him what happened and he said ‘Just a minute, I’ll be right back,’ and proceeded to rip that woman a new one about her attitude towards me.
Years later, this woman brings her car to my dad’s shop for repair. He remembers her but she doesn’t remember him. She was just as condescending as she had ever been, treating him like a lowly servant under her because he did manual labor. He was writing her an estimate for the insurance and she kept trying to get him to add in stuff that wasn’t caused by the accident she was there for.

Things like a ding on the back bumper when the damage was in the front, etc. He wouldn’t do it and she got all huffy and said something like if he didn’t,  she would have his license revoked.
Now since my dad had his shop broken into and tools stolen, he had installed cameras. He sent that video to the insurance adjuster (one he had a steady relationship within his line of business), and she got hit with attempting insurance fraud charges.

I don’t know the exact extent of it but she should be glad her threats to his livelihood weren’t added on there.” happytrails1 
10. He had 4 children and I didn’t even know

“I thought I was in a slightly tumultuous but overall fun relationship for a year. I had gotten out of a 12-year relationship when I met Slimeball.
He was so charming and handsome I thought I won the lottery! He was super pushy about saying, ‘I love you’ first and defining our relationship.

He introduced me to his family. His niece started calling me Auntie. He tells me about his 3 children and their mothers and tells me about how the mother of his oldest hates him and is keeping him away from the kid.

But then things started getting weird. His ‘ex’ started calling ALL the time, multiple times a day. They had children together, but the grandmother had custody. I was told, to make it seem normal, that both of them had jobs where they traveled a lot, so they signed legal guardianship over to the grandma to make schooling and emergency issues easier.

Then the mom moved down to the city we were living in for ‘work training.’ She was moving down permanently without the kids. When I asked why the kids weren’t coming, I was told they need to stay in the same school. Um, they are 6 and 4. I’d say staying with parents is more important at that age than their peer group. It was weird, but I’m the cool girlfriend and it wasn’t my place to tell them where their daughters should live.

His ‘work’ was in the cannabis industry, kind of. He worked with the ‘ex’ brother-in-law going to legal states, buying pounds at a time and trafficking it via USPS.
So, when he tells me he’s going to Oregon I think nothing of it.

After a week in Oregon, a lot of stories aren’t adding up, like his phone is always dead even though he carries a power bank with him. THEN one of his ‘friends’ starts posting cuddled up selfies with him. I quickly put 2 and 2 together and dump him for cheating on me with this chick in Oregon.

After I dumped him I made a messy Facebook post on his wall, when the mother of his oldest child sees it and she contacts me and lays out the truth!

He never contacts his oldest daughter, even though he has her cellphone.
No one is keeping him from her.

He owes $20k in back child support for her as he has never once made a payment. He moves around a lot and works under the table, so the mother was never able to collect garnishments or anything.

He has a huge criminal record starting with rape he committed at age 15, and then a lifetime of fraud, larceny and drug charges I knew nothing about!
His ‘ex’ who moved to our city was his girlfriend of 9 years who was very much still in a relationship with him and they willingly gave up the 2 children because they preferred to use drugs; he likes heroin, and she likes pills.
There is a FOURTH child!?!?!?! He and the mother conspired to pin the paternity on another poor sap and it’s been 17 years now that this other man has been paying for a kid that is not his.

Oh, and I was this slimeball’s side chick.

His family knew and played along in the lie and included their 10 and 16-year-old children in the lie!

His chick in Oregon is actually his star-crossed lover from childhood! And every time they would try to be together, one or the other would end up in jail! The Oregon chick ALSO has criminal record highlights including criminally negligent homicide from a DUI where she killed her passenger, fraud, larceny, and drug charges.
This shocked me, so I paid for a criminal background check which is how I learned of their records.

I PROFUSELY thanked the ex for telling me the truth about the situation. I mulled on it for a bit trying to convince myself to simply consider myself lucky and just walk away with my dignity intact. But then he’d be winning and I knew I had everything in my power to come down on him like Thor’s hammer.
I gave the ex ALL of his info  – SSN, State ID#s, current and past known addresses. With this, she contacted her state’s Child Support Services. He will now have his driver’s license revoked and can’t get one regardless of which state he moves to until he is current with his past payments. If he ever gets a real job 25% of his wages will be garnished. He now has a warrant for his arrest in the state his oldest kid lives.

He’s trying to play house with his new girlfriend and contacted the mother of his oldest to arrange a meeting with his kid and his gf’s child. The mother is ‘playing nice’ and pretending it’s a-go. He is planning a trip to visit the daughter. He will not see her, at the ‘meeting,’ he will be seeing the police and they will arrest him for failure to pay, and he won’t get out of jail until he pays a sizable chunk of the $20,000 past-due PLUS bail!

I gave the ex his info THE DAY BEFORE his federal tax refund was set to go out.

She was fast enough at getting his info to CSS that they INTERCEPTED his full tax refund and now, for the first time, has to pay something for his child. His past due child support is also going on his credit report.

I know the name of the business his ex-brother-in-law owns and uses to launder his drug trafficking money, so I dropped a dime to the IRS. So, he’s losing his only steady income soon and can’t get a job at Walmart due to his criminal record, and if he DOES manage to find someone that hires without criminal background checks he will lose 1/4 of his paycheck.

I told this story to two of my ‘hacker’ friends and they got into contact with hackers more talented than themselves and are now going to ‘take care of’ a few more things for me – like finding the guy who was conned into paying for a kid that’s not his!!” rvngthrowaway
9. She proved me gay and slept with other men…

Pixabay

“I, being in the U.S. Army, became attracted to a woman who I end up marrying. At first, she’s all I could ever ask for in a woman.

Sweet, caring, one hell of a cuddler. Doesn’t really like video games like I do, but makes an effort to get into them so we can spend time together doing something we both enjoy.
Let’s call her Sheila. I met Sheila through one of the other soldiers I worked with, who we will call BB (Battle Buddy) since he was not at fault in this. It was in the middle of the week, and I had just gotten a work order finished up and was taking a quick break for a drink of water.

I heard BB asking a few other soldiers if they were open for a date for this coming weekend.

Long story short, BB had a female friend who was looking for a date for a movie that coming weekend. I offered to go with his friend (BIG mistake), and she and I hit it off rather well and continued to see each other.
Months pass, it hasn’t been enough time for me to consider marriage yet, but she has some spontaneous ailments (seizures and they were legit) spring up out of nowhere.

Since these only seemed to happen in her sleep, and my command wouldn’t let me stay off-post with her without being married… LIGHTBULB!
We got a courtroom wedding 2 weeks later. The added bonus? Not only could I stay with her while she slept to be ready in case of another episode, but my Tricare would fully cover her medical costs. I was happy, she was happy, I got to tell my command, ‘Now you can’t stop me from staying with her,’ and we all lived happily ever after.

Except we didn’t. Things went well for a while, but after a bit, I started noticing things. Things like her needing to take her mother to the doctor’s office quite frequently (her mother was sickly, so I didn’t think much of it at first), or needing to head to the Walmart 1 town over because the one in our town didn’t have what she needed in stock.

Things like the car I bought and let her use was seen parked in a lot next to several different trailer parks in a month.

Well, as luck would have it, right as I started to get suspicious, I had to go to Korea.
So, sidelining the investigation until I was able to continue, I packed, kissed my wife goodbye, and let the Army send me where they wanted me. I spent a year in Korea, then came down on orders for Texas. I went there. It was there that I found out exactly what was going on, courtesy of her mom, brother, and her aunt and uncle.

This woman was sleeping with 60 (not even kidding in the slightest) different men, most of them soldiers. Her excuse to her family was, “Frizzmaster (me) is gay, and doesn’t want to come out. So, he’s pointing out the men I can sleep with since he knows that they’re clean.”
So, basically, this woman is using me as a paycheck and meal ticket and sleeping with everything with a pulse that happens to be male.
The icing on the cake is that 2 weeks after I get the good news, she calls me and confesses to cheating on me – once.

The only reason she confessed? She was pregnant, and there was no way I could be the father, given that I was in a different state at the time….and the father was African American.

I am very much not African American, having been called ‘neon white’ on more than one occasion due to my Irish ancestry. So, there was no possible way this child would look like me, at all. So, my wife felt the need to break the news to me before she had the baby because she could no longer hide it.

Well, things happened, I went back home (without her knowing) and removed my belongings from the house I bought, to keep her from selling them once she realized what I was about to do. I started divorce proceedings.

This is revenge #1. I saw her BOYFRIEND (not the baby’s father, new guy entirely) driving my car. So, I enlisted the help of her aunt and uncle to get my car back. They pulled up behind him in a parking lot, got out and talked to him normally, at which time I waked up from the other side of the parking lot.

Her uncle asked to see the keys, and upon receiving them, began taking the car key off of the ring, and waved me forward.
I walked up, took the car key from him, looked at the guy, and said, ‘Hi, my name is Frizzmaster, and this is my car. I’m taking it now.’ I waved him over to the sidewalk, removed everything from the car that didn’t have my name on it, left the items with him, then got in my car and drove off.

I found out later that day that he had packed everything and left her. Apparently, he had been living in my house, eating my food, sleeping in my bed, and WEARING MY CLOTHES. Plus, she had been using the money I sent her every month to pay for his court costs and child support costs.
Well, months went by, our court date came up, and my lawyer recommended that I file for the sole use of the vehicle and the property since it was obvious that she had committed adultery and didn’t have a leg to stand on.

We go to court, she counter-files for the exact same, and since she refused to release the results of a paternity test, I get stonewalled. The exact words used by the judge were, ‘I’m sorry, but without proof of paternity of the child, I cannot, in good conscience, approve either of these motions.’

So, we set a new date for a private hearing with the judge, and we wait.
Nearly 3 months go by, and the court date was finally near. I walked into the courthouse, met up with my lawyer (who had a demonic glint in his eye at the time, and I was about to find out why), went into the courtroom, and waited.

20 minutes later, Sheila walked in, shot me a dirty look (which I did my best to ignore), and sat down.

The judge came in 5 minutes later, the court was called to order, and the divorce trial commenced. Here, I found out just what had given my lawyer the twinkle in his eye earlier on.
He proceeded to ask Sheila a series of questions, including:

“Is my client the father of your child?”

“When was the child conceived?”

“Where was my client during the time at which your child was conceived?”

“Do you know who the father of your child is?”

“Have you received child support from the father of your child?”

Basically, he questioned her into a legal corner in which she either had to answer truthfully or lie and suffer the legal ramifications of perjury in the face of easily provable evidence.

She answered truthfully (lucky for her), and the court case continued. She presented her argument, littered with dirt she was trying to throw at me, insults to my person, questions about my sexual orientation, and claims that I was having a relationship with her 18-year-old cousin.
I, falling back on my military training, simply sat up straight, folded my hands in front of me on the table, and stared at a spot on the wall slightly above the judges’ left shoulder. I answered every question asked of me, offered no personal opinions, threw no dirt, and refused to sink to her level and question her sexuality.

Subsequently, she had a more and more confused look on her face as I refrained from bad-mouthing her like she was doing me, and the divorce trial went by rather fast.

At the conclusion of the trial, the judge looked over the paperwork submitted one last time, then looked to the both of us.
‘Are there any closing remarks or claims that need to be made?’ Sheila made one last parting swipe about me currently living with her aunt and uncle (I had rented my own apartment months ago, after finishing my military time and going back home), and I merely shook my head and resumed staring at the wall.

The judge took one last look over the papers, set them down, and spoke the greatest words I have ever heard in my life.

“Well, looking over the evidence and testimonies presented, there really is only one decision I can come to. Mr. Frizzmaster, I am approving your motions for the exclusive use of the vehicle and property, upon undeniable evidence of adultery.
Mrs. Frizzmaster, the only one of your motions I am granting today is your request for a no-contact order, and that is more for Mr.

Frizzmaster’s benefit than your own. You seemed very combative and willing to cause him legal damage that he was not due, and your repeated attempts to over-talk me while I was reviewing the paperwork did not speak well of you. You no longer have a claim to either the property or the vehicle, and will not contact Mr. Frizzmaster unless it is to have him clarify which items do not belong to you.”

Sheila had the audacity to work up a sniffle and ask the judge, “B…bbb…bbbut where do I go? What do I do for a place to live?”

The judge looked back at her and replied: ‘Well, Mrs.

Frizzmaster, you have 30 days to figure that out, after which you will not set foot on that property again, or else you will be held in contempt of court.” Frizzmaster
8. She wanted all the gifts so she could return them…

Pixabay

“Background: When I got together with my Husband he had a female friend who was basically Queen of one of his friend groups. I was never really close to her but I liked her, well enough, even though we were very different (she’s more ‘girly,’ I’m more tomboy).

Fast forward 6 years and she and her longtime BF are getting married.
Another thing you should know is that none of us are super rich, in fact, the lovebirds are just a tad bit on the ghetto side. Bridezilla’s mom, however, thinks her baby walks on water and they plan a classy wedding – confusing classy with expensive.

Thus begins the horror of the year plus engagement or as I like to call it, The Money Grab.’ These people have been living together for going on 7 years but they are going for the FULL white wedding.

By FULL I mean:

• TWO engagement parties (one with an addendum that no gifts are to be purchased, instead we should bring CASH for the money tree).
• 2 bridal showers (including another money tree)

• Out-of-town bachelorette party

• A Bridesmaid’s tea at a fancy tea shop…where the bridesmaids paid as a gift to the mother of the bride….

•Various ladies’ nights where whichever poor girls showed up were slave labor for enforced craft time like making favors and tying 200 ribbons for hand engraved invitations.

Not to mention they were all potluck and BYOB so we didn’t even get free food because Bridezilla can’t even throw together some cheese and damn crackers..!?
At this time my Husband and I were really struggling financially so this constant spending was hard and the guilt was constant ‘Oh mermaids_singing! I made you one of my TWELVE bridesmaids out of respect for your relationship with my oldest friend! What do you mean you can’t take 2 unpaid days off of work and spend $500 for my weekend long bachelorette party????’ Cue tears and phone calls to my Husband and other bridesmaids asking why I don’t like her.

I learned that due to the ‘honor’ of being one of 12 bridesmaids, I would be forced to spend $275 on an ugly navy-effing-blue rayon monstrosity from one of the city’s most expensive bridal salons. WTF??? It was the definition of ‘never wearing again’ and probably cost $2 to make in China. And we had to find navy blue pumps to go with it…

Finally, we get close to the wedding, which means shelling out money for gifts… because the Lovebirds have registered every damn place.

They are treating this like The Price is Right. They registered for computers and flat-screen TVs.
They registered for 2,000 thread count sheets (to go in their ghetto apartment) and finally, they registered for fancy china. I think the china is what finally sent me over the edge. Bridezilla does not cook. Bridezilla does not even have a table in her apartment. Bridezilla doesn’t have storage big enough for the 12 place settings she registered for. And I’ll be goddamned if I pay $38 for a salad bowl for anyone.

So, I find myself with another bridesmaid (who is also mightily sick of this garbage as well) standing in Macy’s looking over the registry and I get a bright idea.
I ask a saleslady to help me find the most useless cheap kitchen crap on this list. Thus begins: Grudge Gifting.
We track down every useless thing on the list. And we price check it to see where we can find the exact thing cheapest. Special air vented pizza pan (for making your Red Baron extra crispy)? Check.

Countertop mini cupcake maker, in the shape of a cupcake that makes 7 mini cupcakes (a cupcake pan costs like $5, this thing? $27)? Yep. Countertop Fajita maker shaped like a chili pepper? Chickity check!

Soon we have a pile of stuff that is made for garage sales.
This is trash that NO ONE uses and it’s all from the registry. We buy all the crap at Macy’s thus getting it off the registry. Then, we go to Walmart and Target and buy the same crap.

Then we go back to Macy’s and return the expensive crap but neglect to give the part of the receipt that says it’s from a registry. So it’s checked off.

Bridesmaid #2 and I take it home and wrap it all individually so that we have two towers of beautifully wrapped crap. Crap that we have scraped the price tags off of. Crap that we have neglected to attach the gift receipts for.
And all crap that was specifically requested.

We show up at the wedding and do our duty.

Everyone ooohs and ahhhs when we set our very pretty towers of crap on the gift table. After the wedding, we immediately go and change into our non-horrible dresses and shoes and shove our combined $600 dollars worth of navy blue dresses and shoes in a paper sack for immediate donation to Goodwill. We get our drinks from the cash bar and top them off from the flasks that we wisely snuck in.

Two weeks later, I get a call from Brideszilla trying to tactfully inquire about gift receipts…. ‘Weren’t they in there??? I could have sworn I put them in there.

Let me look around the house…’

A couple of months after that, I receive a very polite thank you note.

A month ago they had a garage sale. Every single item was out for sale including a very dusty 7 portion cupcake maker.” mermaids_singing

Another user read this story and commented: “Sadly it took me a while to realize the whole registry thing was a ploy to return everything for cash because I know someone who does this too.”  SirLenzalot
7. He took my best friend away so I told his wife about his affair

Pixabay

“So a few years ago I worked at a Fortune 100 company.

I was there on a contract. Everything was great. Really liked the team, boss (Paul) was great. He and I could talk about anything honestly as two guys. He’s been to my house. I’ve been to his. His wife is funny and a stay-at-home mom. If it wasn’t for the boss/contractor thing, we could be bros outside of work. At some point, there is a new woman contractor (Mary) that starts on the team. She sits in the cube next to me.

She’s married, pretty hot, a little bit flirty, just generally great to talk to. She and I hit it off right away.
We become pretty close. We become friends, texting each other at night about work and family and just general stuff. Every now and then she throws some random comments out there about me coming over to her place. Which, from a self-esteem point of view, was just a big plus in my book. Never took her up on it, but could have.

We have our normal disagreements about how to run stuff, complete tasks, etc. and while those got heated, it was just two strong-willed people having different opinions. No big deal. She becomes a family friend. Our kids play together, families go to events together, etc.
Fast forward to about 4 months later, I am chatting with my boss late at night (project cutover), he mentions that he is jealous how Mary and I can ‘fight and clear the air and just move on.’.

I thank him for the compliment and didn’t think anything of it. Well, within a couple of weeks boss-man and Mary are doing lunch together constantly. I ask him if I should ‘move out of the way’ as it is obvious that he likes her (Remember, I am there on a contract, so my boss can fire me without a reason – that’s why I treated him with deference).
He says no.

Life goes on for another couple of weeks this way. Then he puts her on his pet project.

All of her time is now allocated to his stuff. He doesn’t have time for the rest of the team as ‘all of his attention is focused on his project.’ I am sure you can see where this is heading. It was quite obvious to the entire group that they were having an affair. The entire group was up in arms about this because this ‘new’ girl is getting all of the boss’s attention, getting perks, etc. The same old story that you have heard about before.

Needless to say, I too am upset. I am losing Mary, my BFF. I figured we were friends enough to keep being friends even through her affair. Obviously not.

What bugged me about the entire thing is that I told my boss (who was also a friend) that his affair with her was ruining my work relationship and my personal relationship with Mary. He denied to my face that they were having an affair, which was such BS, because I overheard him talking to her on the phone saying how he wanted to come over to her place for one of their ‘status meetings’ and make out with her (Side note: There were also a couple of photos of them that were taken by people on the team – One was taken in the office at a group celebration for someone’s birthday.

In the background, you can see them in his office with his hands on her a*s, and another one where the team was out to a concert where everyone was drinking. People finally noticed that they disappeared. One of the women in the group took a pic of them kissing in his car). Of course, I didn’t tell them about these pictures during our talk. Eff him and her.
Less than a month later, we do a shuffling of cube locations, ‘to better align the people who work on projects together.’ I am moved to a ‘deserted island’ – no one around me.

Handwriting is on the wall. One month after that I am cc’d on an email to my contracting firm informing them that my last day will be 2 weeks from that email.

So through this whole thing, my ‘friend’ just quit hanging out (and I get why) and stopped caring. Mary pretty much just dumped me as a friend. I didn’t like it. I tried to ask her why to see if she would say anything at all– no dice. Her allegiance was to Paul now.

I told her that I was upset. She told me she didn’t care and didn’t have time for me.
If you want to have an affair go for it.

The whole affair part didn’t bother me (too much). I will admit to some envy there, but I am not going to sacrifice everything I have for some a*s. Just not worth it to me. What bothered me was the lack of respect that they both showed me. I was pretty honest with both of them about what the team was saying, how everyone was feeling, etc.

What they did was take my honesty and use it so that they could cover up their affair better. For example, when I said people were noticing that she would leave and then Paul would get his coat on and leave within 5 min, he started leaving his coat in the office and leaving about 15 min after her.
When I said that people noticed he was giving gifts to her and not to the group then all of a sudden the group started getting stuff too.

Stuff like that.

What was funny (in a messed up way) is that about 4 months after I was gone, she started being friendly again, random, ‘How are you?’, ‘My day sucked’ texts. Anyway, I moved on work-wise. Still texted her every few days after she started texting me. Again, nothing major. Just pleasantries. But that anger was still inside me because of how vulnerable I made myself to her and how I felt I was used.
So I resolved to get even.

I waited a full year (and heard that she had accepted a full-time position with my former boss). I then sent an anonymous email to his wife letting her know about the affair and giving her details and the proof (the pictures) too.

Mary, of course, called me, so did my former boss. He was p*ssed! I told both of them that I did not do anything (‘How could I, I have been gone for more than a year. I don’t know anything about your life anymore!’)

I heard that both of them got tossed out of their homes and are getting divorced.

They deserve each other.

Moral of the story, if you are going to have an affair be discreet and keep your friends close. Or have the nerve to say, ‘I don’t want to be friends anymore,’ and not be a passive-aggressive douchebag. Because if not, they may become your enemy and might be even more passive-aggressive and look for revenge. Did it make me feel better that I did it? HELL yes.” Revenge_King
6. The smell of this fish will never go away 

Pixabay

A couple of years ago, I participated in a student exchange program in Belgium and obviously I had to quickly find an apartment after my arrival.

I was very lucky and found an incredible offer: a nice big loft with a roof garden, reasonably cheap and very close to my university. The only downside was that current occupier was not the official landlord: he had a long-term lease but was forbidden by contract to sublet the apartment himself. He was himself going on a student exchange program and had to quickly find someone to rent his apartment (which is how he explained the rent was so cheap).

He seemed like a wealthy, trustworthy guy so I didn’t mind having an ‘off the books’ deal with him. This ended up being my demise.
When I moved in, the apartment was not in excellent condition. All the utilities were included in the rent, which was a big plus for me considering that it was January and electricity prices in Belgium are pretty high. The central heating was broken, but the landlord was ‘kind enough’ to buy me two small electric heaters that I could use in the living room and in my bedroom.

Strangely enough, my landlord had some kind of defect/disease which stopped him from having a sense of smell (he warned me his girlfriend would be able to smell if I had smoked in the apartment).
I never smoked in the apartment (although I am a big smoker) because the landlord told me he was very opposed to smoking. As is customary in many European countries, he had asked for a deposit of around 1,600 euros (2 months’ rent) to be paid back in full on the condition that there were no damages.

Although not in a written contract, I still give him the deposit because he left all his appliances (including CD / DVD collection and speakers, furniture, television, consoles, etc.) which I considered to be collateral.
As months went by, I paid my rent to his mother (still in Belgium) on time, had a great time and did no damage to the apartment.
I had a minimal but courteous email relationship to the landlord, who never complained about anything I might have done.

The landlord came back a couple of days before I was preparing to move out.

He came to visit the apartment and check for damages and I was expecting him to hand me a brown envelope with the 1,600 euros he owed me after he had noticed there were no damages whatsoever. When he entered, he had a clearly fake and exaggerated disgusted look on his face. He explained that the apartment was dirty and that I needed to clean it before I received the money (which was not part of our verbal agreement).
I had cleaned the apartment entirely to the best of my ability and to an extent any landlord would have found more than reasonable.

He proceeded to show me all the wall stains (almost all of them already there), dust under the oven (yes, under the oven), rust on some pipes under the sink, etc. Basically, he wanted me to clean the apartment as if he was about to sell it and, remember, the apartment was definitely not cleaned when I moved in. He offered to pay and go get some cleaning products for me, which he would bring back shortly.
I assumed he would also help me clean with his girlfriend, but nope.

He came back and basically ordered my girlfriend and me around like maids while he and his girlfriend were doing nothing.

This was, still to date, the most humiliating and frustrating experience of my life. I knew that I had to obey his commands because I would never get my 1,600 euros back if I didn’t. I probably could have legally challenged him somehow but I was leaving the country a few days later and I preferred to swallow my pride and move on with my life.

Scumbag landlord, after 2-3 hours, seemed pleased with my work and instructed me to meet him at a café the next day to hand over the cash.
I arrived at the meeting early the next day, hungover as hell, ready to get my cash and get the hell out of Belgium (my flight was the next day). He did not have the cash with him. After I left the day before, he had called the utility company and realized that he had an outstanding statement of around 2,000 euros.

Apparently, those little electric heaters consumed a hell of a lot of energy. I could/should have anticipated this, but as the utilities were ‘included’ and I had never thought of checking the evolution of my electricity consumption on the meter (which I had to unscrew a plank of wood to access anyways).
Scumbag landlord, after having made me clean his apartment from top to bottom, was asking for the 400 euros I owed him. He was even threatening to show up at the airport the next day and stop me from leaving if I didn’t! After calling the utility company myself, we went together to their offices and realized the balance was actually something around 1,400 euros (not the landlord’s mistake).

I only received 200 euros in return.

I had never been so furious in my life and could barely stop shaking for the next hours. I wanted so much to get revenge, but I only had one night left in the apartment.
I was also legitimately scared that he would show up at the airport (I should mention that he was a big guy and a Muay Thai fighter). I had to somehow delay the effects of the revenge so that they would be only noticeable after I was gone.

This excluded the obvious damages to the property, which was my initial idea. That’s when all the pieces fit together in my mind and my evil plot was hatched.

After sharing the idea with my girlfriend, we went to the nearest fish store and bought something like 10 euros worth of fish leftovers usually purchased to make fish stock or soup (my best estimate is something like 2-3 kilos of fish bones, and fish gunk).
For the next couple of hours, I blended the fish with a lot of water, cived out the chunks, and filled up spray bottles with a murky but very liquid fish mixture.

I sprayed that fishy water everywhere, but I really mean everywhere. Under the oven, behind the furniture, on the floor, the walls, the ceiling, between the drawers of his desk, under his mattress and even on the clothing he had originally left in storage when I moved in. There is no way he could smell the fish, and he probably would not have received complaints from the neighbors until they were rotten and stinking out the whole building.
To this day, I do not know how my fishy revenge turned out.

I can only imagine that his friends told him he smelled like sh*t and/or that his apartment smelled of rotting sea creatures, by which time it would have been too late to reverse anyway. It probably cost him a whack of money to professionally clean his house and I sincerely hope he is still paranoid about smelling like fish but nobody wants to admit it to him.” Smellyfishforyou
5. I exposed the woman who my ex cheated on me with…

Pixabay

“Background: My ex and I had been together for about 1 year in a long distance relationship (he lived 3 hours away).

I find out from his sister that he was talking to other women when we were still together and confrontations with him lead nowhere with him saying that I am the only one on his mind and that he would never do that to me (the usual spiel). Plus, he says that his sister does not know what she is talking about. I take his side (because I loved him).

Three weeks ago, I find out from a mutual friend that he has been seeing and sleeping with this girl in his town, I confront him about it and he flips everything around on me, saying that its so hard for him to ‘be good’ while I am living so far away; that I neglect him (which I don’t, I am the one that drives to see him every other weekend when I have the funds, we call, text, and Skype each other daily), that I don’t want him to live with me (which is true because I don’t want to take care of a grown man and pay his bills).

He says he loves me and wants to make it work and drops all contact the next day.
I was heartbroken, I talked to my friends and they said the girl he is hooking up with has been around and that they are in a relationship the day after the ex and I had the talk– probably even before then.

Two weeks ago, while still hurting, heartbroken, I reactivated my Facebook and meticulously combed through my ex and his new ‘love’s’ profiles. I know I should not have done this but whatever.

I did not dwell on their flirty messages but instead, focused on her profile.
I read through months of disgusting selfies of her in a dirty dark bathroom with barely their clothes that even a floozy would be embarrassed by being caught in. Then I did it. I made a fake Facebook profile of a fine-a*s looking man from Google that “used to go to her school.’ I befriended all of her friends, made fake posts and befriended her. All of this took less than a day.

You would be surprised at how many people would befriend you on Facebook just from your looks regardless of if they know you or not.

I had about 140 ‘friends’ in just 2 hours and at that point, people were requesting to be my friend every few minutes.
I dunno who is more pathetic, me or these weirdos (just me probably). I started to chat her up the next day, she was very ‘open’ with herself, even sending me new pictures of herself in little clothing to a complete stranger without any in return.

Being a woman myself, it was easy to tell her what she wanted to hear. 2-3 days later, she was complaining about my ex to me already. I told her I wanted to meet up and will pick her up and ‘show her what it’s like to be with a real man.’ At this point, I had hours of conversations saved, her saying the dirtiest crap I’ve ever read – pictures, videos, what have you.
It was time.
While all this was going on, my ex started to contact me, saying it was a mistake.

I asked him if they had broken up, he says yes (twice) even though they were obviously not. This should have broken my heart but it didn’t. I knew the truth but told him that yes I love him and that I want him to move in with me. He sounded happy, excited – whatever and said that he was going to give his 2 weeks to his boss that day. He texted me later and told me that he just left them with no notice instead because ‘eff ’em.’ He was going to start packing and will head out with everything later in the week.

The Revenge: I posted all of the conversations up on fake Facebook, tagged her in it, posted the pictures and videos for my ex’s eyes only and sat back and enjoyed the show before I deactivated the fake account. I had 53 likes and 82 messages. Her family, friends all saw it. My ex saw it and almost immediately texted me to say how he misses me, he can’t wait to be with me and doesn’t mention anything about the girl.

Friday rolls around and he tells me he is on his way to my apartment. He does not know where I live because I recently moved.
I tell him to meet me at a CVS close by so I direct him where to go. He tells me he is almost out of gas and that I will have to help him put some in it. I agree and tell him that I will once he gets there. I get a text telling me he’s at the CVS and asks where I am.

I ignore it. 30 minutes later, he blows up my phone. Calls ignored. I made it a point to let it ring once so that he knows I sent it to voicemail. 1 hour later – he calls and leaves me a voicemail, saying he is worried and if I am ok.
I am SO GOOD. 2 hours later, he says that he is stranded, drove to another CVS thinking I was there but now he has no gas and is stranded at a gas station with his things in the car.

Calls ignored. I take an Ambien and go to bed.
Saturday morning. I have 37 text messages, 28 missed calls and 7 voicemails from him and that he had to call his mom to come to pick him up. Since then, I blocked his number and then had to change my number since he would then start calling me from his family’s phone and blocked calls.
I get a msg on Facebook from his sister. She tells me he came home crying like a baby and since his mom knows pretty much what happened between us, she was not very sympathetic – but still pretty upset with me.

His sister thought I was a bada*% and deserved better than her lying, cheating loser of a brother.

I know I acted on impulse on all of this, probably destroyed this girl’s life. I will probably reactivate fake profile to say sorry or whatever but maybe not. She did knowingly sleep with a man that had a girlfriend – seduced him even! I know this sounds crazy but the feelings I had for my ex are still there.
He will never forgive me since he is now unemployed and the whole town knows his business (the girl admitted his ‘package’ is tiny).

Part of me regrets everything and that I want him back with me. Another part of me is glad I destroyed any type of reconciliation as it was not going to work out in the end. Feels good to let this out.”  satisfried1
4. He didn’t break up with her—he made her mom do it…

Pixabay

“A friend of mine found out his girlfriend of two years was cheating on him.  He was literally crying in his car for a few days — he was planning on marriage and kids and the white picket fence with her.

He didn’t tell her he knew, he told her that he was going to his parent’s house for a few days to help them with some repairs. Instead, he hung out with us and cried, literally cried in front of his buddies, for a couple of days, so we helped him get out of it. He sobered up and told us how he was going to destroy her and I didn’t even understand it at the time. But he was headed to a famous law school and was thinking way ahead of us.

He drove to his girlfriend’s mother’s house, over an hour outside of town with her items from his apartment nicely boxed up, and said he wanted to leave them with her for [GF]. GF’s mom and he had met several times, he had gone to their Thanksgiving, etc.
GF’s mom was like, OK, but why? Not suspecting anything was wrong. And he said something brief like, ‘I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other again, but I needed to get this box back to her.

But thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.’ GF’s mom is stunned and tries to ask why and what and everything but my friend just starts crying (I don’t think intentionally) and runs off and drives away. He never broke up with the GF — never even contacted her — she heard about it from her mom, who called her immediately, and he received confused and angry texts from the now-ex on his drive home.

A little while later (at least a couple of weeks) he gets an email from the GF’s mom, I don’t remember the specifics, but it was not ‘I apologize for my daughter’ but more like ‘I hope you find a woman who loves you unconditionally’ or something to that effect. He responded with something like, ‘Thanks, your note means a lot to me.’ Nothing negative.
Dude is now an up-and-coming lawyer, and still gets texts from the ex saying that she constantly hears from her mom how she ruined it with the one good guy she had and how she doesn’t deserve to be happy.

The friend has never responded to one text and blocked her from FB. Of course, this was all 100% planned – my friend wanted the hurt to come from someone who would stay in his ex’s life, not from someone who would be quickly forgotten. He deliberately created a rift in the closest relationship that two women can have. And all in a friendly 60-second conversation with no harsh words or accusations.”  70127
3. I put squid all over her backyard 

Pixabay

“I’m not normally a devious man, but even I have my limits.

So this all started in high school. My best friend (we’ll call her) Jane was in an on-again-off-again relationship with a guy (we’ll call) Bill.
Jane and I went back basically to birth. She was the bratty twin sister I never had. We were friends and never anything more. This was a strictly platonic friendship. So we grow up and go to different high schools in different parts of town. We kept in touch and caught up on everything in our lives.

But during sophomore year Jane met Bill in the theater program at her high school. From then on there was no catching up, just listening to the relationship status of these two.

Bill was fine, I guess, but he would go out with Jane for a while, then get bored and dump her.
Jane would call me, and I’d play the role of the emotional tampon. A month later when Bill got lonely, they’d get back together and I’d hear about that too.

For two and a half years it went on that way. Finally, her senior year, Bill breaks up with Jane two days before the spring formal. Jane calls me in tears and begs me to take her. Fine, I’m a friend, I’ll take her. So I spent two days and all my savings to get myself together for the formal. Because of the late notice, everything in the city had already been rented.
So my tux was out of date and a size too small (I’m 6’6”).

The shoes look terrible. And the flowers are basically the leftover stems from everyone else. All the while, I’m getting scolded and tsk-tsked from the rental places because I should have planned for this weeks ago.
But all this was fine. I’d be embarrassed for a friend. The entire night of the formal she tried to parade me in front of Bill to make him jealous or show that she was over him, or something. Either way, I felt like crap because clearly, this wasn’t about salvaging a good time and more about using me as a tool.

And that’s what I felt like, a tool.

So two weeks later Jane calls me up. She and Bill are back together. Oh no, hell no. Nope. Not this time. Nope times infinity. So that night I went to a grocery store and bought all the frozen squid I could find. About 11 lbs. I blew a week’s pay on it. Then I drove to her house at two in the morning and spent 15 minutes in a shadow behind her fence hucking them into the backyard pool.

The ground was coated with them and the pool was unusable. I rained my calamari of vengeance all over her space.
The next day, I get a call from Jane. At first, I was afraid someone had seen me. But no, much like I had hoped, she was calling to complain about how Bill had thrown squid into her backyard. Oh sure, when she confronted him about it he had denied it. But she assured me she could always tell when he was lying.

Just like she could with me (I had to put my hand over the receiver I was laughing so hard). But that time it stuck. I never had to deal with a Bill story again. Jane and I are both 43 now, and she still doesn’t know the truth.
It’s not that we couldn’t have a laugh about it or anything, it’s just that I don’t want her reconciling with him again.” Spodson
2. I got his mom to kick him out over cigarettes 

Pixabay

“So my fiance and I were together for a total of 6 years – we were high school sweethearts, but about halfway through the relationship things got… bad.

Like, really bad. He would consistently threaten suicide whenever I tried to leave and always guilt tripped me into staying with him for years, even though I was miserable and we were arguing very frequently. Eventually, I called him on his bluff and ended things for good, and surprise surprise – he didn’t actually kill himself.
Later on, I started dating someone else, and once my ex heard about that he absolutely lost it – he was spamming texts and messages on social media, calling me wanting me to take him back, he even tried his old trick of threatening self-harm if I didn’t but I put my foot down and told him I wasn’t going to be manipulated by him anymore, and also told him I was happy now and to leave me alone.

I blocked him on everything I could, but he didn’t stop there…

He then took to my boyfriend’s Facebook and started messaging him all sorts of nonsense, saying he needed to break up with me, even going as far as lying and saying I cheated on my current boyfriend with him.
Fortunately, my bf didn’t believe him but I was still LIVID.
So some additional background info, my ex still lived with his mother at the time. He also smoked, which I didn’t like but tolerated.

His mother, on the other hand, despises smokers. Her father died of lung cancer so she always went on about how she refused to have any smokers under her roof, and even said before that if her son started smoking she’d kick him out. That didn’t stop him though, he just had to hide it. He always smoked at my house or in his car when we were out, but never anywhere he could potentially be caught by his mom or one of her friends.

One time he’d left a pack of cigarettes in his room and he lied and told his mom they were mine…. as if she and I already didn’t have enough issues. From then on, he always kept his cigarettes with me – stashed in my purse, at my house, in my car, anywhere. Most of the time he’d finish half or most of a pack, hide it with me but forget and go buy another one. So I had looooooads of packs of cigarettes around, which gave me an idea for some revenge – not just for the years of misery he put me through, but also attempting to sabotage my new relationship.

I went and gathered every last pack of cigarettes I could find around my house, under the seats of my car, everywhere, and once I was done,  I had filled an entire grocery bag with half-empty cigarette packs. I drove over to his house and rang the doorbell (he never answered the door, he was living a hermit life in the basement) and his mom answered. I handed her the bag and said, ‘Just dropping off the rest of (ex’s) stuff, I thought he might want these back,’ and left, giggling like a small child all the way home.

Later that week I heard from a mutual friend that his mom has actually kicked him out of the house, which honestly I wasn’t sure if she really would – she’s notorious for not following through on threats.
But turns out she was serious, so then ex had to crash on a co-worker’s couch (no one else wanted to let him stay with them) and was frantically trying to find an apartment.

I feel like it was kind of an a*shole move to get someone kicked out of their own home, but damn if he didn’t deserve it lmao.” AllyMarie93
1. He had a laundry list of criminal offenses, I found out just in time

Pixabay

“I met a guy while vacationing in California one summer, a really nice guy and he always wanted to do something fun and different every day.

From hiking, paintballing, swimming, or going out on the ocean.
After the vacation ended, we kept in touch and over the course of the next year, we decided I would move to California.

I work in healthcare as a nurse so getting a job almost anywhere isn’t tough, but as the new nurse, your hours are going to be crappy. No surprise, so after we’ve lived together for a few months and working terrible hours, they go back to normal hours and we can really spend more time together.

I’m not really one to snoop around, he had a safe in the bedroom where we kept basic safe stuff like passports, SS cards, birth certificates etc., but one day I had to produce my birth certificate and had to go into the safe while he wasn’t home.
I found my birth certificate easily but next to it was a birth certificate with an entirely different name and DOB than what his was so I asked him about it and he got super defensive and yelled at me for snooping.

Totally out of character for him as I’ve never seen him yell before. I still wanted to know WTF and based on his reaction and the fact I moved to a different state to be with him, I deserved to know if he was hiding anything.

A few days later he finally tells me the truth, he used to be married and has twins.
This caught me off guard because normally you tell someone you are in a relationship with if you have kids.

That doesn’t bother me as much as him using a different name, however.

So he decides this is the time to be totally honest with me, tells me he didn’t want to pay child support or alimony because she was cheating on him but he couldn’t prove it in court and he believed the kids weren’t his (even though he also admitted they did a paternity test and he’s the father…wtf).
So he simply started using his old friend’s name and information that he for some reason had after they were college roommates.

So, so many red flags are now flying.. why did he have his roommate’s birth certificate and social security number? He never did answer that and Googling the name never did turn anything up.

Then he decided to admit he’s been cheating on me ever since I moved out here since we are ‘being honest’ and he finally could share his life with someone. WTF.

So I moved out that very night to sleep on another nurse’s couch. He, however, refused to leave me alone and eventually started to threaten me over the phone.

Big mistake, you just admitted to skipping out on child support, alimony, court orders, and identity theft.
I started looking up his hometown and state (one thing he didn’t seem to lie about) and found public records of his divorce and tracked down his ex-wife on Facebook.
After she finally responded about a week later, she confirmed from pictures it was him and was really interested in knowing where he was. Turns out he not only skipped out on child support and alimony but he also stole her car years ago when he left and opened several credit cards in her name before he decided to leave town and was wanted for all of that.

I mildly kept in touch with him telling him I needed time to figure it all out before we could try again.
About two months later, he was arrested and began proceedings to get him transported back to his home state.

He did call me from jail for about a week but I refused to pay for the calls. He then had his attorney contact me and I told his attorney that if he ever contacted me again I’d call the cops for harassment.

I then started searching his name and everything through his home states court access site and found out he was sentenced to 6 years for the credit cards, motor vehicle theft, theft of a firearm and several contempts of court charges.
I kept in contact with the ex-wife for a bit, she was thankful they finally found him. Also for a bit more on top of it all, it turns out once he gets out of prison in his home state, he will be arrested and charged for the stuff that they uncovered and figured out in California over the past few years.

Turns out he also did a good amount of credit card fraud out there.

So don’t threaten to ‘smash’ someone’s face in for breaking up with you if you are committing identity theft and are on the run from child support.” enjoyprisona*shole

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