People Tell Us Their Sparkling Stories Of Revenge

People often say there's no such thing as magic. I'd like to think that magic does exist, but it's all in how we perceive it. Take, for example, an act of revenge against another individual who has bad intentions. To me, it genuinely feels like a fairy tale knowing that they got their well-deserved Karma! Not everyone has this perspective on revenge, but you better believe that the revenge stories below will quickly whisk you off your feet. Hang tight; these are going to be some juicy reads. If you feel the magic, we'd like to hear your thoughts on the story you enjoyed the most!

12. Keep Letting Your Pets Poop On Others' Lawns? Get Your Pets Taken Away

I’ll never understand people who have pets but don’t want to take responsibility for them.

“I’m only partially involved (was staying with her at the time to build up my savings); the bulk of this revenge was carried out by my grandma.

So quick relevant info to understand the neighborhood; at the end of the street, there’s a really large park that has a river in it. The street curves at this end almost like a cul-de-sac, but where the middlemost house would sit is a biking/walking lane into the park.

At the other end of our street (maybe 15 or so houses total) is the main road. Onto the story.

So my grandparents moved back to our city to live in my grandma’s childhood home.

When she had been a kid, the area had been considered to be on the outskirts of town; now it’s all but inner-city. About half of the families who had owned these houses had either sold them and moved away, or their kids lived there now.

Either way, the majority of the block had known our family in some capacity for decades, and in general, everyone tries to be neighborly.

Of the 4 or so houses that had new residents in them, one in particular immediately started getting on my grandma’s nerves: the people across from us in the cul-de-sac.

Initially, it wasn’t their attitude or anything along those lines that caused a problem; they just began tearing the property up. They’d start some project to fix something, then either give up or make it worse.

The house was two different colors. The awning over the carport was sagging terribly. The yard was almost always overgrown with random crap everywhere.

On top of that, they’d blast their music really loud at night, which sucked for their elderly neighbor/grandma’s old friend Ms.

Ruth, and also asked for weird crap (e.g., they asked us if they could run a power cord from our house across the street to power a generator being used in their backyard.

What the heck?). It really bothered my grandma because that used to be her best friend’s house, and it had always been one of the nicest on the block. As time went on though, crap started getting out of hand.

Soon they started hauling tons of junk into the backyard. Again, not a big deal, until there are literal bathtubs and toilets visible from the street on your property. Our side porch faced directly their house, and it was such an eyesore.

Then we noticed they brought home a few pets (3 dogs, 2 cats) who they promptly began leaving outside and let roam around as they saw fit.

Unfortunately, my city has a big problem with stray animals, and their pets weren’t fixed, so after about a year and a half, the block had a stupid amount of animals running about.

The wild thing was that the family kept keeping so many of them rather than trying to give them away or something. They easily had 6 – 7 dogs and 8 – 9 cats filtering in and out of their backyard, all collared.

Obviously, all of these animals have to poop somewhere.

Because they were across from us on the curved street end, there were only two houses in between us going clockwise (with the bike lane to the park in between those houses), and both of those houses had rocks instead of grass in their front yards.

Our house, however, had thick, lush, grade-A grass with some rose bushes here and there. My grandma was very proud of it (lol). You can imagine where all their animals + the strays liked to poop though, and Grandma was getting really sick of cleaning animal poop.

Now at this point, no one has really addressed this animal issue with the neighbors, but everyone on the block who had grass in their front yard was talking about them.

Finally, my grandma woke up to find one of their cats taking a crap on her windshield and two of their dogs in our backyard in her vegetable patch (they had dug under our fence at night).

She chased them off our property, and we watched them promptly run into their front door. Grandma was lit.

She walks up to the porch, yells “Excuse me!” into the open front door, and waits for someone to come out.

The dad comes out, and they start talking. After a few minutes though it escalates into yelling (at which point some of the neighbors are watching too). I see my grandma disengage and start walking back to the house while I’m standing on the porch waiting to bask in this early morning popcorn.

He apparently apologized for his animals being on her property but got mad when she asked him what he was going to do to make sure it didn’t happen again. He tried to say that it was unreasonable for her to expect him to keep track of his outdoor animals when he and the other adults living there were at work; when she asked if he could keep them inside when no one was home, he replied, “No, they’d make a mess of my house” and that she was throwing a fit over a little poop.

Grandma says don’t worry about it; she has a plan. She just has to wait until the weather is right.

Fast forward two months, it’s June/July. We live in South Texas, so that means no rain, no clouds, just blinding 95F°+ heat until sunset.

She asks me one day if I can help her with some yard work, I’m like yeah, of course, let’s do it, but she says we have to go shopping first.

We roll into the store and grab 4 – 5 large canisters of cayenne pepper and regular pepper, and that’s when she starts telling me the plan.

If you sprinkle cayenne pepper in your yard, it’ll deter cats and dogs from pooping in it because it irritates their nose.

You can’t just dump a ton of it though, or you can hurt the animal’s pads, and it’s useless if it ends up raining because it’ll get washed away. She had been waiting for high summertime to pull this off.

We put on masks and safety glasses, then proceeded to cover the front and back yard with the pepper mix after sunset. I noticed two or three other people on the block doing similar things and mentioned it to my grandma, who just replies, “Oh, I know.” She had already talked to everyone on the block and suggested they all do this at around the same time to maximize the effect; all 13+ families were on board.

Two or three days pass (with more and more families pepper dusting their yards) and the random animal turds in our yard have dropped off significantly (I think we found one or two way at the edge of the driveway), while now the bulk of the animals have started pooping everywhere on the jerk neighbor’s property; they’re even just pooping in the driveway and on the sidewalk outside the house.

The smell was so bad, but we had a front-row seat to watch them constantly have to tiptoe around piles of poop. We keep this up for about two and a half weeks (replenishing the pepper mix every 4-5 days), watching them clean all the crap up before work only to come home, pull into the driveway, and step right into a nice wet lump of poop.

They’d always eyeball us from across the street, but they didn’t say anything. The entire block is laughing behind their back.

Eventually, my grandma called the Department of Parks and Recreation and leaves an anonymous tip claiming that she felt she could no longer safely access the park because of the high population of stray animals and unsanitary level of fecal matter near the entrance.

They did a drive-by, saw the house, and immediately rang up animal control AND a city inspector (the house looked borderline condemned and definitely smelled like it).

Turns out, you’re only allowed 8 pets on your property here, and these people had over double that.

They ended up losing all the animals (who went to no-kill shelters), had to pay a thick fine, and also got busted for a variety of building permit violations. They eventually moved, a new family bought the house, and are really great neighbors in every way.

Grandma is also back to being very proud of her succulent lawn.”

Another User Comments:

“Do not mess with grandmas who are not senile: they are basically high-level chars, and everyone else is a noob in comparison; you will get your experience increased in a way you would never want.” mechadrake

11 points (11 votes)
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11. Only Want To Pay The Male Team? Lose Your Role

“Earlier this year in a country town in Australia (Let’s call it Exampleton), a health clinic founded and staffed by women from the Exampleton region was in a position to offer a sponsorship to the local Exampleton Football (Aussie Rules) And Netball Club.

The clinic directors had played netball for Exampleton Football And Netball Club when they were younger and wanted to give something back to the club and the community. The directors, who treated many of the players from both the football and netball teams, approached the Club President of the Exampleton Football And Netball Club and explained they wished to sponsor the club’s teams.

The Club President (who was a well-known and influential businessman in the area, former mayor of Exampleton, and much older than the clinic directors) was thrilled and explained that the football players all needed sponsorships to be able to compete in the senior regional league (they had only just qualified for this league), and this would help supplement their primary income.

When the directors of the clinic explained that they wished to sponsor both football and netball teams, the Club President stated that they don’t pay their all-female netball players (who had been playing for the top league since the team started and were current league champions), so the sponsorship would go to the all-male football team only.

This was not unusual for country clubs in the region, and the clinic directors wanted to support both teams equally. Some of the clinic staff had partners playing for or previously on the football team, hence why sponsoring both teams.

When the clinic directors tried to negotiate the same for both teams (let’s say it was about $2,000 per team for the year), the Club President made it quite clear the Exampleton Football And Netball Club does NOT pay their netball players as it was not a professional team like the football team was.

The clinic directors were disgusted by the sexist and frankly condescending attitude of the Club President and immediately rescinded their offer. The Club President was very quickly dismissive of their original offer, telling the club committee and anyone who would listen that the clinic directors clearly never intended to follow through on the sponsorship and were trying to get free publicity.

Over the next few days, the heated discussions and anger amongst the clinic staff about the clear sexism of the Club President grew, until one director came up with the idea to offer a Player Sponsorship Program to both football and netball players.

After checking the club constitution if this was possible, they found:

  • Football players had to be paid to play while netball players did not.
  • Player sponsorships were allowed, as long as they did not directly conflict with existing club sponsorships (E.g.

    Players could not be sponsored by the local Mcdonald’s if the club was already sponsored by the local KFC).

The clinic directors quietly went around Exampleton to find out who was sponsoring the Exampleton Football and Netball Club and found no other health clinic or provider was currently sponsoring the club.

The health clinic quickly got the paperwork and advertising organized, quietly spread the word to all the football and netball players about what was happening (with their full support), and then publicly announced their Player Sponsorship Program in the region to great response from the community.

Within days, every player in both the football and netball teams in the Exampleton Football And Netball Club were sponsored by the clinic and sported a little clinic logo on their uniforms.

Within the club, there was soon discussion about a club sponsorship in the future and possible naming rights.

The Club President was incensed by this and tried to get all players to cancel the sponsorships with the threat of not playing future matches.

It was quickly pointed out to the committee that the constitution stated that the club had to pay football players only, but nothing prevented them from all receiving player sponsorships. The Club President had to back down and lost the respect of some of the committee and club due to this.

The Club President then tried to get the player sponsorships canceled by getting a club sponsorship hastily organized with a clinic from another region. Again, both teams pointed out that player sponsorships were allowed as long as they did not directly conflict with EXISTING club sponsorships.

The Club President then lost respect with the other health clinic and the community when it was learned why he had to back out of this sponsorship.

This standoff continued for a few months, with the players and club all happy with the sponsorships and the clinic booming from the PR coup.

Only the Club President remained opposed to this sponsorship, often making his views known to the committee and club at large.

With the Annual General Meeting of the Exampleton Football And Netball Club soon approaching, the Club President announced changes to the club constitution to be voted on and implemented immediately.

These changes banned any club or player sponsorships and any funding without approval from the Club President directly.

The backlash came at the Annual General Meeting before the changes were even discussed:

  • The local newspaper had run an editorial to the meeting condemning these changes as nothing but petty revenge by the Club President, and club members were angry about their club’s legacy being damaged.
  • Every player on both the football and netball teams attended and threatened to quit the club due to the unfair change to their playing income.

    The coaching staff supported them as they had received some funding from the health clinic to run camps for school kids as an intake program for the club.

  • The committee members were questioned by club members on their stance, quickly showing that they were largely in support of the club’s new direction and the Club President had been influencing them to approve these changes to the constitution.

When the formal part of the Annual General Meeting started the Club President vacated his role, expecting to be swiftly reinstated, only to be voted off the committee entirely.

He was last seen storming out of the club rooms with a mix of rage and shock on his face. The club soundly voted down the proposed changes, instead voting to implement a different set of changes to pay both football and netball players.

The former Club President has lost his status in the community, currently keeps a low profile avoiding public events, and has not been seen at club matches or events since.”

10 points (10 votes)
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rossbro 1 month ago
Adios, dirtbag !
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10. Make Us Run Despite Medical Reasons? Lose Your High And Mighty Position

“This story took place about three and a half years ago when I was 15/16 and in grade 10.

So some pre-story before the actual story. I have a bone condition that makes running and high-impact sports painful.

I had surgery in June of 2015 on my leg to remove a tumor that was causing the pain, and this whole story happened that September to January. I also have asthma.

It’s a new school new year for me and my friends. I’m one of the only girls in my PAL (physically active living: basically gym but less) class, and I have a few friends in the class too.

First day of class, I go to the teacher who is the head of athletics at my school and tell her about my condition, and she didn’t seem too concerned, but I brushed it off.

First few days were a lot of dodgeball and introductions, so nothing too bad.

Fast forward two weeks into the term. We start doing daily 5km runs, and we HAD to have a pace time of 25 minutes or less, or else we would have two percent taken off our grade (the time reduced by one minute every week after).

I tell her I can’t run because of my leg, and this is her response.

Me: I can’t do the running because of the surgery I had in June, and it hurts too much to run.

Teacher: Well, you’re in dance, so I think you can run. And I don’t see you with a surgical scar, hm?

Mind you, this is late September, so it’s pretty chilly where I live, even inside, so I wear leggings while the other girls in my class always wear booty shorts, but I didn’t since I was very self-conscious about my body and scar at the time.

Teacher’s response came like a slap across the face, but there was no changing her mind, so I ran. It hurt with every step I took, and by the end of it, I was crying.

My mother writes up a note for me to give her giving me permission not to do the run, signs it, and everything (she wrote this from her office, so she had her office seal on it too), but Teacher just ignores it and keeps making me run.

This continued almost every day for three months (there were days we were in the classroom doing assignments and whatnot). So it’s early January of 2016, and my friend comes in with a concussion.

I still had very bad pain, but I sucked it up and ran, usually crying or holding back tears every day. My friend tells our teacher that he’s concussed and the doctor’s orders are not to run because it’s a bad one (he had to go to school since he was in IB and couldn’t miss).

But she makes him run anyways since he didn’t have a note. This makes his concussion worse, and he passes out about 5 minutes into it.

Earlier that day, I had an incident where I hit my surgical site pretty dang hard on the school bus, so I was in a significant amount of pain.

Just as my friend passed out (which I didn’t notice immediately since I was on the other side of the gym), my leg gave out, and I collapsed. Turns out, the healing muscles tore, and my leg was bleeding on the inside (not horribly), while my friend was completely passed out due to his brain swelling.

We were both taken to the hospital, and while my injury wasn’t bad, my friend and I take about two days (4 for him) to recover in the hospital due to them.

Once we’re both back to relative normality about a week and a bit later, we go back to school but we’re ready this time. We have the principal, our respective VPs, the superintendent of the school board, and our parents all in tow.

By now we have both told all of them our account of the story, and they wholeheartedly believe us.

The class is just getting underway, and the adults want to see just how this is happening, so we walk in about three minutes late with all of them waiting outside and watching from the one-way glass “window” in the dance studio.

Lo and behold, despite our protests, our teacher makes us run again. We run for all of thirty seconds before the adults come in with words a-flying. Teacher is stopped dead in her tracks and so are all the other students.

The principal dismissed the students from class, saying they can go study in the library, and we all walk down to the office with Teacher in tow, visibly angry.

We all talk for about an hour, and she keeps defending herself saying things like, “I didn’t know he had a concussion,” or “she doesn’t have a scar, so how could she have had a tumor removed?” and bullcrap like that.

Ruling from the super comes about a week later during exam week, and this witch gets demoted from head of athletics to not even being able to teach any form of gym ever again (she’s now the financial teacher).

Best day of my life was when I saw her the next semester, and I got told the outcome of what had happened! Truly some awesome revenge on the teacher that made my life horrible.”

7 points (9 votes)
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Squidmom 1 month ago
I would have refused to run. Screw her.
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9. Steal My Work And Turn Them In As Your Own? You'll Get Caught

And it’s one of the quickest ways to get kicked out of university.

“So the story begins with me being 17 years old, fresh out of high school and in college. I meet a guy who looked really nice and came to sit next to me in our first class.

He told me that he had already done his first year, but due to some mental health issues decided to resit because his grades were terrible. All fine with me, we hit it off and I was feeling quite happy because I was 17 and living on my own.

I had some friends from high school who went to the same college, but they were very quick in getting their own social lives going and didn’t have much time to hang out anymore.

So I finally found a friend. The year goes by pretty smoothly, I pass most of my classes (screw you, English Literature), and I move on to my second year.

Friend (let’s call him C for now) does as well.

So I’m all happy that we get to move into the second year together and I thought that was that. Over the summer break, I texted him a lot and asked him to hang out, but he told me he was very busy with his job saving up for the new year of college.

So I just let him be.

Next year rolls around and I don’t see him anywhere. He doesn’t show up to classes, he doesn’t answer my texts, and I was afraid something had happened to him.

Eventually, he texted back, telling me that he was incredibly busy with his job. He asked me if I still wanted to work on our projects together and I happily agreed.

C would never come to the first tries of tests and he was always late with handing in his work. The only things he handed in on time were the projects he worked on together with me.

Mostly because he would text me that he couldn’t make it and then I’d do his part. Now being the naive, now 18-year-old, that I was, I did all of that.

He would constantly ask me for the work I handed in on individual projects, saying that he ‘just needed to see how I did it because he didn’t know how to start.’ Sure thing, here you go man.

That was until one day I failed a class on my first try and that meant I had to go up for the resit. So I look at my feedback and edited my essay.

Insert text from C if I could please send him my work so he could have a look at it. I obliged and told him that I had failed the class too, so he should be careful when reading it because it wasn’t great.

I even told him the pointers that my professor gave me to make sure that he understood what parts were wrong.

A couple of weeks go by, and C sends me angry texts saying that he had failed his essay.

I asked him what his feedback was and asked if I could see his work as well so that we could look at it together since I had passed my resit.

He didn’t want to do that, and for some weird reason, this didn’t sit well with me. I was always told by my family that I should always trust my gut feeling, and something was off.

So I decided that I was going to find out more about this. So the next period, I decided to not take up my first try for an essay but instead waited to do the resit with some lame excuse towards my professor like: I forgot the due date and I missed it because of that, sorry I’ll hand it in on time for the resit.

Because I had such a good relationship with my professors (always showing up, being active in class, doing homework, etc.), they had no problem reviewing my work before the due date to give me some pointers to make sure I’d pass the resit.

So I knew that I was going to be okay.

Of course, insert C text message saying: Hey, can you send me your work because I am working on it, and I don’t understand it one bit.

I’ve done the first two assignments, but I can’t figure out the 3rd one. I tell him that I hadn’t started on it either but offered to work together. He declined but wished me luck.

The next day, I send him a text, claiming that I was at my parents’ house and that I forgot to bring the assignment. I asked him if he knew what the third assignment was.

He texts me back saying the following: I don’t know; I haven’t started it yet.

And this is where it clicked: how could he ask me for help, claiming he didn’t understand the third assignment if he hadn’t started yet…

Again, the gut feeling was telling me something was wrong. Now just to explain, my school has this thing where you can go in and ask for your work to see why you failed it and to see if the professor had maybe made a mistake grading.

This was also the case for that essay that I had failed before, which I had sent to C and for which he failed. So I went in and asked to see C’s work, knowing well that he wouldn’t go in that day, because he never did.

The professor was reluctant at first, but I told him that C had asked me to take a picture of his work and feedback so that he could learn from it.

Basically lying my way through and finally getting to see his work. I took some pictures, thanked the professor, and left. Upon coming home, I looked at the pictures and basically saw my own work staring me in the face.

Only some images and some sourcing had changed. Some of the sentences were remodeled, but it was very clear that this was pretty much the same work. I was LIVID. I had worked my butt off for two years to try and help him and to make sure that he would pass courses.

I felt so bad for him because he was struggling with his mental health (my mom was severely depressed, so I felt sorry for him), but this was basically stealing.

So I decided to write an anonymous letter to the exam committee basically accusing C of fraud.

I hadn’t told him that I was doing any of this of course. I didn’t hear too much at first, but after about six weeks I get a text from C.

He was panicking and panicking HARD. He told me that he had gotten a letter from the exam committee basically accusing him of fraud. I asked him, so what does that mean? He said that he would have to come in for a hearing and if they did find him guilty of fraud he could be sent away from college.

I found that a bit of a harsh punishment, but I played along with being a concerned fellow student and ‘friend.’

Cut to about a week later when I’m sitting in class and the topic of fraud comes by.

I ask my professor what the punishment for fraud is. Well, he said, if they find you guilty of fraud the first time, they’ll exclude you from taking any exams for a year, so basically, you’d have to resit a whole year.

But if they find you guilty another time after that they will pretty much send you away and you won’t be able to come back.

Again this gut feeling kept growing bigger and bigger.

So, as a concerned friend, I went over to our student mentor, the professor who had to guide my specific class, and told him I was concerned about C’s mental health state.

Our mentor was obviously confused as he said that C had never told him that he had mental health issues. I asked him, well isn’t that why he failed his first year.

My mentor said no, he had failed his first year because he got caught for fraud.

And that’s where it clicked. C had been lying to me the entire time. He got caught for fraud, got excluded from all of his exams, had to redo the year, and then decided to commit fraud again, but he just tried harder this time.

Obviously, he didn’t make it through his hearing and he got sent away. Turns out that in this hearing. they showed him all of his own work compared to that of mine.

C pretty much knew that I was the one who ratted him out, but I swore to him that I didn’t do it as the innocent little angel I am. He got sent away from college, and I never heard from him again.”

6 points (6 votes)
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rossbro 1 month ago
HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-haaaaaaa !!!
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8. Want Me To Scrape Asbestos For Little Pay With No Protective Gear? Oh, It's On

“So, this story occurred during a very difficult time in my family’s life. My wife and I had just gone through losing our first child 2 months before her due date.

And to top it off, I had lost my job. So, my parents agreed to let us move in with them until we got back on our feet. My wife and I both took the first jobs we could find.

She took a job at an upscale restaurant, and it paid very well. I took a job at a furniture store/auction house as a “maintenance guy” – as he called it.

Which was a heck of a pay cut, but I was willing to take anything I could get. Little did I know this guy owned several properties around the area, and I would constantly be driving from place to place fixing issues at various rental properties.

On days there were no issues at those properties, I would be dealing with their auctions, moving furniture around the sales floor, or delivering furniture to customers.

This was all fine and dandy.

Except for the fact that I have real construction and maintenance experience, and if my name is on something, I’m going to take pride in my work.

On my first day, I should have left.

They sent me to a house that was so water damaged under the kitchen floor from a leaking pipe, molded at this point, and with obvious signs of mold. I ask the guy how long this had been going on, and he said laughing and sarcastically, “Only the last 2 months since I moved in! I’ve left them several voicemails and they didn’t even tell me you were coming today.

But it’s cool; I really just want my family and I to be able to eat at our dinner table.” His floor was so bad that when you walked on it, your feet sank into the wood and water came up while making that squishy watery sound like when someone sucks on a popsicle a little too hard.

Knowing what I know, this had been going on much longer.

I apologized, said that this was my first day and that there must have been some sort of misunderstanding on our end.

My boss shows up and drops off some materials for me to do (as he called it) a “quick fix with plywood and caulk on this guy’s floor.” And to also duct tape the leaking pipe.

Me really needing the salary and thinking this is temporary till he can hire a flooring company, a plumber, and possibly some framers, I get right to work. After a couple of hours, I cut a good portion of the floor out and replaced it with plywood.

I told the guy, “I’m sure they’re going to get back to you about this situation very soon” and headed back to the store.

A couple of days go by, and I ask the boss when he was going to do the repairs on that rental property.

He asked smirkingly, “What repairs?” So I reminded him which house I was referring to and he said, “Yeah, you don’t remember something you just did two days ago?”

At this point in my life and even now, I avoid arguing with ignorant or stupid people.

To me, it’s just not worth my time.

I felt horrible for the tenants in that house. The smell of mold was ungodly, and it needed to be reported. But I needed to keep my job till I found another one.

So a couple of weeks go by, and I’ve been ridiculed by this guy, cussed out, told I don’t get paid to drink water after moving furniture around for 5 hours straight with no breaks.

Not allowed to smoke, period. Etcetera etcetera.

One day, he pushed me to my limit. He has me follow him to a house in this old Penske-style moving truck with 3 other people, two of which are riding in the back of the delivery truck, which is illegal.

Simply because someone needed to hold the 5-gallon buckets of water because he refused to turn the water on at this property. We show up. This thing is UNINHABITABLE. All the windows are knocked out, trash everywhere, no front door, no back door, no electrical.

Everything was stripped. To top it off, this house has asbestos siding. For any of you who don’t know, asbestos was banned for use in any building or facility after many people got lung cancer from breathing in the dust.

It is very bad for you. The other people begin cleaning the house and he tells me that my task is a test. He wanted me to scrape all the asbestos siding in an hour all around the house so that it could be primed and painted the following day.

I tell him that it is illegal for someone like me to remove asbestos. People call in teams that wear hazmat suits for this sort of thing. He fired me on the spot and told me that I would have to find my own way back to the store and to have my vehicle off the premises before the following day.

Me, still feeling the effects of what I had just gone through, saw this as a perfect opportunity to loosen up and have a little fun.

I made it my mission to destroy him, and everything he stood for.

Step 1) I called up all the tenants and informed them that I was no longer the maintenance guy because he had them calling my personal phone. And informed the people who he still had living in unlivable circumstances that they all had cases against him and that everything they were dealing with was against the law.

2) I inform the labor board about everything he had me do, every situation he put me in, and definitely the asbestos incident. They informed me that I needed to contact OSHA as well.

So I did. And told them everything as well.

Several months went by, and I knew nothing had happened because one of the co-workers and I became pretty chill and still texted each other occasionally.

3) One night, I had a few too many, randomly posted an ad on Craigslist in their name and used their phone number in the ad.

I called from a private number later on the next day, and he answered in an angry voice stating no and that he wasn’t selling anything and to stop calling his number.

And hung up.

Later on that year, the labor board eventually rained down fire on him. They found out that over 200 people were hired and fired within a 3-year period. When I was there, only 6 were staffed.

His business license is stripped, granted his “son” opened a store in a different location within about a year of this happening. He had to either get 3 out of his 7 rental properties up to code within x amount of days or they would be condemned, and actually ended up getting sued by one of the families for breach of contract and continuing to harass them after they ended their lease.

The real kicker of this is that since he had wronged so many people over the years, when he died of cancer this past year, only a few close family members showed up to his funeral. I even heard one of his three sons didn’t even show up.”

6 points (6 votes)
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7. Get Rid Of My Childhood Prized Possessions? I'll Sell Most Of Yours

It goes both ways.

“When I was 15, my mom started seeing a man she met online. I didn’t like him the first time I met him, and two months later, he moved into the house.

About three weeks after he moved in, he took my skateboards, self-built halfpipe, ramps, BMX bike, ice hockey gear, and many other things to the dump one day while I was at school.

He said he did this because he didn’t want all of my crap cluttering up “his” garage.

One day he decided to take my extensive Pokemon card collection, an even more extensive comic book collection, my Game Boy and PS2 with all the assorted games, and my fantasy and sci-fi book collection and got rid of it all because “15-year-old boys should be playing football and baseball, not being a nerd playing with Pokemon cards and reading comics and books.”

I would like to add that he was a middle school teacher, and in his off time, refereed and umpired local middle and high school sports games.

My mom never intervened, and in fact acquiesced when he demanded that she stop giving me change for lunch, because “the little brat will just spend it on comics and other loser crap.”

One day, I took maybe $3 and change out of his change jar so that I could buy a slice of pizza and some fruit punch during lunch at school because I was tired of being hungry.

My twin sister was always a bit of a jerk and frequently blackmailed me into doing her chores from a young age. I was fed up and refused to do something, so she told him what I had done.

This man actually called the police and pressed a larceny charge against me.

At that point, I ran away. When the cops found me and returned me to my home, I found out that he had been trying to talk my mom into sending me away to military school or something of that nature.

I ran away again, and between having run away several times and the larceny charge, ended up turning 16 in juvenile detention.

I spent the next couple of years miserable and afraid, frequently contemplating ending my life.

Once I was out on my own, I didn’t speak to my mom for several years. We eventually reconciled, and by that point, they had married. I was a lot bigger than I had been as a young teenager and had gotten into weightlifting, so he no longer acted like he was going to punch me to make me flinch and we basically avoided each other for the most part.

My mother found out that she had stage 4 cancer and no longer wanted to waste any of the time she had left with him, so she had a lawyer draft up a separation agreement whereby he would receive a set amount upon separation and would have 45 days to retrieve his belongings from the house.

He had spent his entire inheritance in six months and then had to sell his mother’s house that he grew up in, in order to settle his debts shortly before they started seeing each other romantically, and my mother bought the house back from the bank before they married.

She allowed him to keep the house and he moved back into his mother’s house.

My mother passed away about nine months after their separation and despite the agreement had been allowing him to come and get his stuff piecemeal.

I put an immediate end to that.

He was past the deadline to remove his personal effects, and they were now legally mine to dispose of as I saw fit.

I sold his baseball card collection (around $14k) and his autographed sports memorabilia (roughly $11k) and also sold all of his woodworking equipment, along with several finished pieces of furniture that he had made ($6,500 I think).

I kept his mother’s engagement ring (platinum band 3 diamonds roughly 2 carats), wedding band, his coin collection (I also collect coins), and some tools and other odds and ends.

Now comes the real fun.

Around a month ago, I finally saw him at the grocery store. As he was leaving I approached him. I told him I had sold his collections as he was pushing his cart out towards his car.

He reacted exactly as I expected. He took a swing at me multiple times. I already had my phone ready to dial 911. Several of these punches were missed and the ones that did connect didn’t have much effect because he’s nowhere near as strong as he was 20 years ago in his forties and I’m no longer a skinny little 15-year-old.

He continued to try to punch me as I spoke to the 911 operator, and was actively ramming his grocery cart into my new Toyota as the police officers pulled into the parking lot.

He was arrested for assault, communicating threats, and destruction of property. As a result, he lost his job (and pension) at the local middle school, and because he had never learned how to save while married to my somewhat wealthy mother ended up having to sell his mother’s house because he hired an expensive lawyer thinking he could somehow beat the charges.

My nephew, who was on the football team made it well known to his friends that he not only had just been arrested and convicted of assault as well as other charges but that he had also mistreated me as a child causing several parents to call for him to resign from refereeing and umpiring for local sports games.

My niece and my girl’s much younger sister are enrolled at the middle school where he worked and say that he was not only universally disliked, but when he came up to the school to get his belongings, he made a big scene and ended up hysterically crying as he was leaving.

At least that’s what they’ve heard from the kids who were attending summer school at the time.

His son, who he was equally terrible towards as a child refused to take him in or help him out so he ended up having to take a job as a cashier at Walmart so that he could afford the rent on his crappy little trailer in an absolutely awful neighborhood.

Even though that Walmart is not the closest Walmart to my house, that is now the only place where I go grocery shopping or to purchase anything that I need. I purposely stand in line longer than I need to just so that he can be the one who has the pleasure of ringing up my purchases.

The first time I went through his line, he attempted to ring up multiple items more than one time to overcharge me and when I called him on it, he said that I was mistaken.

I asked for a manager, and the manager believed him that it was an accident, but he learned that he can’t get away with that. The second time, I made sure to be as nice as possible and had to ask for a manager because he was overwhelmingly rude.

The people in line behind me backed me up, and he got in some trouble for that.

Every time I go there and step into line, I see him die a little bit inside, and it gives me such satisfaction.

Sometimes I’ll say that I’m paying with exact change, and as I’m about to hand him what I owe, I’ll say, “Oh! I didn’t realize I had (rare coin from his collection) in my pocket! I guess I’ll use my credit card.”

I just sold his expensive ratcheting wrench set, and so on Monday when he works again, I’m going to go buy my daughter one of their better above-ground pools, and as he’s ringing it out tell him, “I know that (daughter) is just going to love this pool.

It’s not like I would have ever used those expensive ratcheting wrenches anyway.””

Another User Comments:

“Too bad the mother only decided it was worth breaking up with him when her own time was in jeopardy and not her child’s.” Charrsezrawr

Reply:

“She was a deeply flawed person, to be frank.

She had a lot of issues and wasn’t a good mother until I was in my early twenties when she contacted me to apologize for everything. My older sister left when she was 16 because my mom just didn’t know how to raise children.” Kveldson

6 points (6 votes)
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rossbro 1 month ago
GREAT !!!!!
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6. Try to Screw Over College Students On Rent? You'll Lose Out On Thousands Of Bucks

“College student living in a college city. Lived in the dorms the first year, then in an apartment in the next years. In our college town/city, you had to pay a “finder’s fee” to the current tenant to move in.

This was essentially paying them their deposit when you moved in, as there was not any formal rental contract. There were literally flyers up listing apartments with rent and the “finder’s fee” on campus.

So this was standard practice.

Anyway, a buddy and I moved into ONE apartment middle of our 2nd year, in a triplex where 2 of the 3 roommates had moved (all 3 in one of the apartments).

The 3rd guy had been living there for a number of years (had done undergrad and grad school there) and was the contact point for the landlord. We paid him, and he paid the full rent.

Note that this was not a sublet, just that we paid in total in one check (this is important).

So our 3rd roommate moves (graduates) and hands over the utilities, landlord info, etc.

to me to handle before the start of summer. He had gone through a few landlords over this time and has not had a new lease/contract for years. So I take over and pay the bills during the summer.

I became the POC, utilities in my name (important later for legal standing), and I was paying the rent (also important). Note you were stuck paying summer rent to keep a good apartment close to campus.

So we paid for the apartment for the summer.

Fall hits and school starts. We get a call from the landlord. He says he didn’t know anything about us and wanted us out.

If we pay more rent, we can stay. So our rent goes up from $750 to $900 with 10 days’ verbal notice.

We suck it up since we can’t move now (too late), and we paid all summer just to have the place.

And the extra was not that bad. Keep in mind this was when the minimum wage was $3.25 an hour, so $150 is still a hit for 3 poor college students.

Yes, this is from a while ago.

So then as the semester gets to an end, the landlord then decides he wants to raise the rent to like $1,500 or $2,000 or he will evict us.

He gives us 30 days’ notice to get out over Christmas break if we will not pay. None of us could cover that amount, 2X – 3X where we started – we were all on financial aid.

After talking to some people, we find out we should look into the Rent Control Laws.

Well, guess who has not properly registered or followed any rent control laws? Yep, this landlord.

So we spend $500 on a lawyer and end up going to “Rent Control Court.”

Guess what the Rent Control Board hates. Yep, greedy landlords that clearly break all the laws.

Coming out of this hearing, we win BIG.

Due to the rent check/utility billing, we are found to be tenants even though we do not have a written contract (that was our biggest worry on our claim). Landlord is punished for not being registered or in compliance for years (well really at all).

So our rent is reduced to the ORIGINAL rent control amount. And, it is RETROACTIVE. So our rent becomes $300 from the day we moved in. Oh, and we cannot be evicted just because the landlord feels like it.

So doing the math, he owed us $6K in overcharges for the past year, and would only collect 30% of the current rate going forward. And of course, he also had a bunch of fines to pay the board.

I don’t remember but I think it was more than what he owed us.

Our new rent of $300 gets paid into an escrow account. It will get released once he pays the fines and us our $6K.

Well, like 6 months go by, and I don’t think he paid the fines. He did not pay us. And he is not collecting rent.

But he is not done yet. Obviously renting any of the other units will be a problem for him rent-wise.

So he then decides to play “by the rules” and serve an eviction notice for us based on one of the permissible rules (he is moving into the unit/taking it off the market).

We know it is total nonsense, but it’s in the rules. We can call him on it, but then we will start spending $s on a lawyer battle he can outlast us on.

He has funds and is losing profit every day we are there. So we propose a compromise.

We “settle out of court.” He agrees to a one-year lease with us at $300/month.

We will move out in a year (end of school/graduation for all 3 of us). He also signs over the escrow account to us and waives all owed rent to date.

In the end, we saved $16K. It was glorious. And we got 100% of our deposit (“finder’s fee”) as part of our settlement agreement. And we stayed until graduation.

Oh, and he did not rent out the other unit during this time, so he was out an additional $10K – $15K.

Keep in mind this was an investment property, so I assume the property value dropped for the reduced income.

Edit: Just looked up property history on Zillow, and 3 years after this occurred, the tri-plex sold for $300K. So the rent collected from the units would have covered a mortgage so he just wanted to print bucks.”

5 points (5 votes)
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5. Lock Me Inside The Classroom? Your Job Will Be Gone Sooner Than You Know

“This was 5 or 4 years ago while I was still in school. I was a bored guy with nothing much going on in my life. My school life was different from others.

I had no interest in school. Slept during class but did my homework. Odd, I know.

But then there was this one teacher who joined midway during my time there. Looked rather okay.

Seemed good but then… I was assigned to her class. She was the German teacher. My main language is German, and we would just write and read most of the time.

That was so until she showed up. What do we do to learn? Write pages. Sounds normal, doesn’t it? Well, it wasn’t.

For some reason, she especially targeted me, mostly when I was nearly falling asleep while I was writing.

She came up to me and said, “If you sleep now, no break time for you after this until you are done.” Everyone was silent. She made me look like a clown.

What did I do? Not take her word for it. I slept for the rest of the class. Nice and good. Until I woke up… What did I see? The room was empty.

Door was closed with a piece of paper in front of it with the words “Knock when you are done.” Out of sheer curiosity, I knocked on the door. What happened? That teacher suddenly started talking and asked me “Are you done?” That surprised me a bit.

She was serious about this. Everyone was on their break while I was in class. Locked inside. Why didn’t I scream for help? This is a school, and my teachers didn’t care at all even if I did.

So, what did I do? Continue to write. It was just a bit more. Knocked again and got out. She had a smug look on her face. Seriously? I wish I could have punched her since I missed break and had to go to the next class already.

That went on for a few months. Me locked in a room. My friends asking her sometimes where I was. Her answer? That I was at the toilet currently. No need to worry.

Yeah, sure. Witch. I could have just said something, yes. But most of the time, the teacher was not even near the door. Keeping me locked inside until the break was over.

Nobody heard the knocking since the room was nowhere near the hall. It was somewhere in a corner of the school where nobody goes.

But halfway through the year, I had enough.

We had French added to the schedule. I wasn’t bothered by this at all, but who was the teacher? The one who kept locking me inside. Great. Let’s see how she handles French.

What happened? WRITE PAGES. Not even try to learn the words but write them down and suddenly know the language enough to take small tests she threw at us every third week.

I told my friends what she did. They said it is my fault for falling asleep. But keeping me locked inside that room? Sure. My fault.

But then came the day of relief.

French started. We had to write pages and talked over a plan with my friends. Once she started talking about what pages to write down, I spoke up. Yes, against the teacher saying, “How about you try to teach something useful or that actually helps us learn this language?” She stared at me like I just offended her life.

Saying that I’m seeing the principal at the end of the hour. All according to plan so far. My friends and I made a video of me being in the room and with that teacher nowhere near the door.

They recorded it with their phone.

Once the hour was done, I wasn’t locked inside the room for once, but we went to the principal’s office. With a smirk on our faces on the way until we reached the door.

Straight faces. All of us. The teacher asked why we were all there instead of just me. Where I responded, “You will see soon enough.” With that. We walked inside the principal’s office, taking a seat, and the teacher started complaining about my behavior…

not just that day. But the whole year so far. I was like, what? Why? Is she trying to get me expelled?

After she was done, the principal asked me if I have anything to say to that.

That’s when I asked if I could show the principal a video. Multiple ones. Oddly enough, a nod. With that, I took my friend’s phone and walked up. Showing him the videos where my friends recorded me being locked inside that door.

Everyone in the school knew that nobody can get their hands on a key for any door in the school. The principal looked furious. About to lash out. And the teacher? She looked down.

Her smile and smugness changed into a frown and worry. What a glorious moment to see. We prepared for that day since my friends found out about it through me.

We were sent outside the office.

What happened next? Yelling. LOUD yelling. I thought I felt the whole school shake at one point until it stopped. Silence and we walked to our class. The day was a normal day.

Me being lazy. But the next day at German class… We had a different teacher. I had to ask, “What happened to Mrs. Didl (Random)?” The new teacher said that she was fired and sent to the police for the endangerment of students.

I was like, wow. Seriously? That’s how furious the principal was?

We forgot my friend’s phone in the office but got it back that day. The principal was thanking us for letting them know and for me showing them this evidence.

I call it sweet revenge, and only recently, I heard that Mrs. Didl was fired once again from her work since she was attacking one of the kids that looked like me.

Again, she was taken away by the police. I apparently left a mark on her, but she deserved it. Being stuck in a room for such a stupid reason… She kind of deserved it for taking my time away. A lot of time.”

5 points (5 votes)
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4. Create A Crappy Work Environment? I'll Wipe All The Sales Data From The System

“Decades ago, I was a restaurant manager. After years of working for TGI McChillibees, I was recruited by a regular to come work at a hotel.

I was tired of the big corporate game, and this seemed like a new challenge.

Plus, I was tired of trying to take pride in slinging food that when done perfectly was still mediocre at best.

Right away, it was evident this hotel was a crap show.

It turned out, the property was under federal receivership as the owner was under indictment for making half a billion bucks in loans to banks that didn’t exist for companies that didn’t exist.

(One day, the bellman who drove the shuttle came back from a run super excited to tell everyone the owner was back in the country, and he knew it because the bellman saw the owner led out of the airport in handcuffs by guys with windbreakers that read FBI.)

I was brought in to update the bars and restaurants but was not allowed to change anything.

The head of housekeeping denied my request to dim the lights in the bar because it looked cleaner. I later found out this is common in some Asian countries, but who the heck in America wants to sit in a bright white box with a bar in a crappy airport hotel when there are a load of hip bars a cab ride away.

No one. And that’s who was drinking in our bar. No one.

I was used to working with people more or less my age and with the same point of view. Now I was managing long-term union members who gave zero craps.

Add to that the complete lack of training I was given on how to work in a union environment, and it wasn’t pretty.

The HR manager (who recruited me) was leading negotiations with the union for the next contract and didn’t want to upset the apple cart, so she refused to endorse any discipline.

We had a busser no call/no show for a month. We let him go as it was job abandonment, it was grieved, and he was brought back as a banquet porter.

What the heck?

It was a union house yet when someone no-showed or called out, I was expected to cover. I didn’t know this until a few weeks in when I got a call at 3 am saying I had to cover the breakfast shift as both server and cashier.

The controller was convinced everyone was stealing. She walked around all day looking for opportunities, any possibilities that someone might remove a paper clip and screw the hotel.

The accountant sat in his office smoking.

He looked like something out of a movie with his long nails and an ash, never less, that were three inches long. His office was always locked, and he was barricaded in his desk by two shredders, and they were always going.

The banquet manager got arrested for driving under the influence and convinced the guy who had my job before me to bail him out. No one knew this until one day, he no-showed, and the cops come by looking for homie.

Turns out, the old manager had put his house on the line for this dude, so he was screwed.

The Chef was awful. Like out of a book awful. He would buy fish from his steward who was catching them in the bay.

The bay that was known to be full of PCBs and other contaminants from a few hundred years of pollution and was deemed off limits for catching food.

The Sunday buffet was everything from the last week or so covered in cream sauces and lemon slices.

Didn’t matter if it was bad or not, just add more lemon slices.

Banquet food came out of the freezer and got put in the hot box hours before the event yet this clown ran around yelling at everyone like he was Gordon Ramsay.

The GM was told his contract wouldn’t be renewed a month into my tenure, so he said screw it and had me order cases of Dominus and Lynch Bages, a fifth-growth Bordeaux that drinks like a first.

I learned that wine crap later as I was 25 and considered Miller Genuine Draft Light and Rumpleminz the pinnacle of fine drinking. All I knew was the crap was spent.

He would get off work and sit in the bar knocking back $60 of bottles (around $100 in today’s scrilla) while I was yelled at for letting him do it.

Let him do it? That was my boss.

How could I stop him?

Needless to say, things weren’t working out, so after a few months, we agreed at my 90-day review to part ways. It was an easy decision.

I was moving on and happy in my next gig but still friends with some of the people I worked with who were there.

In fact, I ended up in the wedding of one of them.

I was already salty about my time there as what I was promised and what happened were worlds apart. But then my friend got screwed over.

She had landed a long-term contract with the power company. We had some bad storms that damaged the power grid and they brought people from another market in for 9 months to trim trees, modernize things, whatever it is power companies due in such cases.

My friend should have received 1.5% of all their billing. Rooms, food, and misc. expenses all should have had a slight vig that kicked to her as was laid out in her employment bonus program.

This would have been huge profit as it was dozens of rooms a night over nine months.

When bonus time rolled around they kicked her a tiny fraction of what she was owed.

Instead of close to 6 figures, she barely got a few grand.

She was livid, as were her fiancé and me.

One night, we were all complaining about it at the bar watching football.

I really hated that place for me, for her, for everyone stuck in that heck hole. A terrible thought entered my brain around halftime and wouldn’t go away. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do but this would be my night.

I drove to the property and parked next door. It was not a well-lit area, so I could sneak over to where my old office was and jumped the wall. We always left the slider open to go out and smoke (it was a converted ground floor room), and I knew the banquet manager who shared the office was still on the run, so I should be safe.

Once in the office, I looked around trying to decide what to do when I saw the POS computer. This was the 90s, so everything was controlled by this dinosaur from the 80s in the backroom that had a plastic box over the keyboard, so no one could accidentally hit a key.

I grabbed my shirt like I’d seen in the movies, so I wouldn’t leave any prints and fired it up. This old beast ran MSDOS as its operating system and I was enough of a geek to know what to try.

I typed in cd to get to the root directory. Then DEL. For the vast majority out there who have no idea what that means wiped out the root directory. I was giddy with that total “aw crap, what did I just do” feeling.

Not sure if that was enough and completely surprised I was able to do it, so I double downed and typed in format /c.

The darn thing blinked and just started chugging along.

Freaking erased itself.

I got the heck out of there and somehow made it home without getting pulled over. I guessed they’d have to reboot from a backup, and that would be a pain in the butt.

A year or so later, I ran into some of the hotel peeps in a bar, and they asked if I’d heard about what happened.

It turned out that someone hacked the pos system and destroyed it.

Because it was so old, “experts” had to be flown in, and they said the person must have been a masterful hacker because if they had done anything less then it would have been an easy fix.

Anything more and it would have left electronic fingerprints.

It turned out that there were no backups. It was towards the end of the month, and all the sales data was gone.

The experts couldn’t rebuild a system so old, so a new system had to be purchased and installed. That alone ran over 6 figures to do.

This also triggered an audit.

Remember the controller who was convinced everyone was stealing? Turns out she was.

She and the accountant were led out of the hotel in handcuffs as it turns out the feds don’t like it when you embezzle from a company in their receivership.

At that point, it hit me that I could be in some seriously hot water so once my heart started pumping again I stopped any sort of coy “what do you mean” bullcrap when asked if I knew anything about it and shut the heck up.

The statute of limitations is long gone, and it’s an obvious throwaway. I wish I could take credit for being such a master l33t haxter, but it was just the actions of an angry, intoxicated dude with a geeky background.”

4 points (6 votes)
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Fitz 4 weeks ago
No you didn't do any of that.
0 Reply

3. Make Our Work Life Horrible? You'll Lose All Your Staff

“This story happened over 20 years ago during the late 90s. I was 17 and had just recently gotten a job as a dishwasher at a local summer camp. This was a large camp that was run by a corporation.

I won’t say the name of the corporation, but there is a very famous song named after them. I had been to this summer camp before as a kid, so I knew the layout of the camp.

My job started up on the first week of summer (mid-June), so the kids were already there. I had my interview with the acting Kitchen Manager (who we will call Susan); the original manager had just recently left the company and put Susan in charge.

This didn’t seem to bother Susan as she was eyeing the kitchen manager job that had recently opened. Susan was a sweetheart; she was nice and helped me out with everything.

I also interviewed with Bob, the camp director, as Susan did not have any hiring or firing power (as she was just an acting manager).

The majority of the kitchen staff were also nice and helpful.

I made friends with them during the time I worked there. While there were way more than these people (I remember there being around 10 to 15 kitchen staff members during the summer), I am only going to bring up ones that are important to this story.

There was Todd, an older guy who lived only a few blocks from the camp and didn’t have a car so he rode his bike in the morning, who was also a dishwasher.

He was my supervisor but also really nice. Dale, the head cook, had been there for a long time and used to be a cook for the local middle school, Debbie, another cook, Ellie, a kitchen server (later, my romantic partner), and Boris, a Russian dishwasher who had a sponsorship with the camp as part of their “world view” program.

There were 3 other dishwashers (Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest) who I will call “the dummies,” but they are not part of revenge, just that there were 3 dishwashers that were the worst.

Nobody got along with them, and they couldn’t get fired because Susan was acting manager.

Now, due to the fact that we were located at a camp, the staff had full access to the facilities of the camp.

This means that during my breaks or off work, if the camp was open, I was allowed to go to the swimming pool, go horseback riding, or even boating. As long as I didn’t get in the way of the kids, who had a set schedule, it was full access.

Susan told me this along with the director of the camp, Bob, during my interview. Bob was also a nice man but also kind of weird. This is important later on.

During the summer, this place was wonderful. I would typically start working the lunch shift and then have an hour lunch break between lunch and dinner. While I was required by state law for a half-hour lunch, Susan gave me an hour which she did for everyone.

Typically during this hour I would go swimming or play with the horses. One time Bob and I went jet boating around the lake or Ellie and I would make out in the pool.

Just typical stuff a teenage boy would do. Most everyone in the kitchen staff loved me, as I was a model employee and helped with just about everything. They loved that they had someone who they could get help with as the dummies would always mess up.

In August, we got the news. The corporation had picked a new kitchen manager and it was someone from outside of the company. Susan was really upset; she had worked so hard for years for this job and the higher-ups picked someone outside of the company.

The new manager was named Karen.

The first time we met Karen, she gave a speech about how “new changes are coming” and “we will now work as a team” and was condescending at Susan’s work.

The first thing she did was do a massive clean-up of the large walk-in fridges. The strange thing was, she didn’t have the staff do it, but it was (later on we found out) her family cleaning it out.

She also hired her husband, Dan, to be the assistant manager, pretty much forcing Susan out. During this time, the camp was starting to transition from a summer camp to an event camp.

So the large staff would be cut in half. This wasn’t a problem normally as people would be leaving for school or other seasonal jobs opening up. The first people she cut were “the dummies.” Everyone was happy about that (and that was the only good thing she did), but in the end, all that was left was Ellie, Dale, Todd, Debbie, Boris, a few others, and me.

I asked Karen if I could work the weekend (as I had high school), and she agreed since everyone else wanted to keep me on staff.

Karen then begins her terror; it only took a week but it happened.

Her fangs started to show and the power got to her, each person felt her wrath. She was one of those people who thinks their farts don’t smell. She would come in late, leave early, but yell at everyone for doing the same thing.

Everyone had problems with her but here are a few that I remember.

Todd was starting to get written warnings about coming in late. Karen placed him on the morning shift but he told her that he couldn’t do the morning shift or he would be late as he doesn’t have a car and bikes to work.

As the camp is located in a rural area, it doesn’t have street lights, and biking in the morning is dangerous. This isn’t a problem during the summer as the sun is up earlier but during the fall and winter time is not acceptable.

She called him lazy for not having a car and it didn’t matter, she needed him in here.

Dale, the head cook, was starting to get fed up with Karen ordering too little of the food and the wrong food.

Having cheaper products and being forced to work with a broken stove. One time he asked her when the stove would be fixed and her response was “fix it yourself, you are a big boy.” So often times we would run out of food for the night and had to make sandwiches for the people.

Ellie got the worst of it. Since we were romantically involved, I found out that she had an eating disorder a few years earlier (she was 2 years older than me) and use to be anorexic.

Karen kept calling her “piggy” and “fat” and how she shouldn’t eat all the food in the kitchen. She was upset and crying the whole time when this happened. I confronted Karen about it and she said “she shouldn’t be a sheltered college brat and should just grow up” and “if she has a problem, she should talk to me, not you.”

I also felt the wrath of her too.

She would change my schedule around randomly after posting it. On Friday we would get our schedules for the week. I typically worked Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday because of High School.

During the week, she would change my schedule, so I was working on Friday night, she changed it to Wednesday night and then would call saying I missed Wednesday night. Unlucky for her, Dale had my number and called me whenever he found a schedule change but it was getting old quickly.

She would also tell me to do a job and then change what to do. For example, one time she told me to clean the oven, and when I was near finishing up on the job, she asks why I didn’t clean the stove and got mad when I said she told me to do the oven.

Another example was that she would tell me to mop the floor and Boris would come over and help me out because he had nothing to do and then get on me for Boris finishing my job, even though Boris spoke up and said that he asked her if he could help me and she said yes.

Another example was that she cut my break from an hour to half an hour and did not allow me to use the facilities during my break since I “was only on break to eat, not play.”

After a few weeks of this (late September), I went to Bob about her and told him everything about what she was doing to us.

I found out from Bob that Dale also went to him earlier that week with the same thing. However, having the spine of a jellyfish he said “I’ll talk with Karen;” then a day later Karen starts getting on us for going to Bob and not her saying “If you have a problem with me, you come to me, not Bob.” This was the last straw for us, so I talked with the rest of the kitchen staff and we decided that she needed to leave.

During one of my breaks that she wasn’t in the office that day when we were still trying to think of a way to get rid of her, I was eating my dinner in her office (the manager’s office was the only one with AC in it and it was a hot day).

We all had permission to be in her office as it had the keys to the large fridge, tools, the private restroom, and whatnot. I’m eating dinner with Ellie when Boris comes looking for a pen.

He was trying to fill out information, so he could go home to Russia (I don’t remember what, just that he was planning on leaving in 3 weeks) and sits down at her desk.

He is opening up the desk to find a black pen when he finds a check. It was a paycheck to one of the dummies, who left a month earlier. It was his final paycheck, highly illegal to withhold a paycheck.

Boris showed us the paycheck and then he started to look at the computer that was on her desk. While Karen was a jerk, she was also stupid and left everything unlocked.

There he saw the orders. She was ordering things that we never got into the kitchen or ordering extra stuff. It turns out that she was ordering more food than we thought, stealing the food and using it for her own personal use.

I told Boris that he was looking through her personal files and he said “What are they going to do? Deport me?” We also found out that Bob was getting a kickback from the extra food that Karen was getting in to keep quiet.

So it explained why Bob had the spine of a jellyfish toward Karen. Boris printed out the information and held onto it. This is important later on.

The three of us told Dale about it and he wanted to confront Karen, but Debbie pointed out that she would just deny it and Bob would cover up.

We thought about corporate but we had no connections to corporate and Susan had left the company, who used to have the connections. It then hit on us, in about 3 weeks (mid-October) corporate was going to be having a retreat using the camp.

All the big wigs and higher-ups were going to be there and we were all scheduled to be at work that day because there was going to be a huge feast for dinner while lunch corporate was going to have grilled burgers and hot dogs.

I remember that corporate brought in an outside vendor for the grilled stuff since they were preparing a big feast. Karen was also going to be there to impress the big wigs.

We decided to act on that day but also knew what to do beforehand. It was also going to be Boris’ last day as he was leaving for Russia that night.

So on the day of the feast, all of us show up on time at around noon. The dinner feast wasn’t going to be until 5 pm, so we had plenty of time to prepare, or at least, that is what Karen thought.

We got there and just sat down around the kitchen and did no work. We locked the freezer with a different lock (it was only locked with a normal deadbolt lock you can get at the hardware store).

The janitor wasn’t going to be in until later in the evening (thanks to Dale telling him about the plan and not to answer the phone) so he couldn’t use his tools to break into the fridge.

So we waited. Karen didn’t get in until 4 pm with her husband; she looked as if she was ready for a major interview when she saw all of us just standing around.

The stove wasn’t on and cold, the fridge was locked and we were just sitting around. Karen started to yell and talk about how today is important for her and that she would have our heads for this.

So Dale comes up to her and says “We quit.” Karen went full-on deer in headlights and her mouth was so wide open that you could throw peanuts into it. All of us walked out on her, into our cars, and drove away before she could get a word in.

We decided to just quit. After we quit, all of us started to look for jobs, while some had security lined up since we knew that this was going to happen but knew that a major shakeup like this would grab the attention of the big wigs.

I found out a month later when I got a call from Susan, the original acting manager before Karen, asking me if I wanted my old job back. It turns out that Karen called Bob and said her whole kitchen staff just left and they needed to tell the big wigs that the feast was going to be canceled.

She couldn’t get into the fridge with all the food since her key didn’t work and nobody was picking up to help her. She tried to call others that left or were fired but since she was so toxic nobody wanted to work with her.

The big wigs were not happy, they went right to the kitchen to find out what was wrong and saw that nobody but Bob, Karen, and Dan were there without any food cooking.

Boris walks in and Karen starts yelling at him, saying how could he do this to her? Boris then hands the big wigs the printed information he got from Karen’s computer earlier and had made copies of it, gave it to everyone in the room (Boris told me, through email, that he wasn’t sure who was in charge so he gave everyone in the room the information since he figured one of them had to be a head guy) then got into a taxi and went back to Russia.

Corporate started an investigation as soon as that happened. Bob, Karen, and Dan were fired almost right on the spot and not only did they find out about the withholding checks and backdoor deals with Bob but also Bob was stealing from the camp to support an illegal substance habit.

Karen and Bob were arrested for fraud and most likely other things (it has been over 20 years, I don’t remember everything but that one stuck out to me). Pretty much the whole camp had a shake-up, Susan took over as the manager (got the job she wanted with a pay raise.

She did leave after they gave the job to Karen but her new job wasn’t working out) and about half of the staff came back. I did come back too, during the 2 months I was out of work, my parents were helping me out with bills (they forced me to pay for my own car insurance and gas.

My grades were never the best in high school) while this was happening. I came back but only for a month since by that point it was in the middle of winter and it was costing me more in gas to get to work than work was paying me.

Dale came back to the job along with Debbie but Ellie and I broke up (it was a “summer love” anyway) as she moved away for college, Todd never came back and works at a local liquor store (at least last I saw him.

I haven’t been in that store in about 7 years).

So what happened now in my current job that caused me to remember this? Well, I got a call from Dan about a month ago recently wanting to do some work for him.

However, he lived in another state that we aren’t licensed to do work in and that was pretty much the end of the conversation. I decided to Google search her name but didn’t find much information except some court records about the original case from years ago.

Dan and Karen do not appear to have any social media page or anything that I can find. I honestly don’t care anymore as it has been over 20 years since this happened and I’m much happier at my current job.”

4 points (4 votes)
Post


2. Try To Take My Pay? Hope You Enjoy Cleaning Up Poop On The Walls

“This is a long one from a few years back when I was a teen working at a generic fast food restaurant while in school. I was 16 at the time and had been working at this store for a year or so.

We had this supervisor who was just horrible to work for. He would leave us while we were packed with customers and sit on his phone talking the whole shift, only come out to bark orders and mistreat us for not working hard enough, eat the food we were cooking, and when customers complained, he would belittle us in front of them blaming our attitudes.

Now everyone hated this guy. Even the other supervisors hated him. He was lazy and to be completely honest I think he only had the job because his uncle owned the store.

He would come in to start his shift, plant his butt in the office, and wouldn’t come out unless it was to tell you how crap you are and how he isn’t afraid to replace you.

We were all teens working who needed money for our families, and he knew this and would hold our jobs over our heads. The store was in a bad area, we were all either supporting our families or trying to stay out of gangs and whatnot.

The store is open until late so we can get good hours in after school.

Well, this one particular night we were very short-handed. It was me, my workmate Joe and my supervisor.

Joe and I assumed he would back us up and serve customers while I cooked and Joe made all the burgers and wraps. But no, he came in, planted his butt in the office, and told me to cook as well as do burgers and wraps and Joe will serve.

I protested and said it was too much for me to cover. He completely ignores me and acts as if he didn’t hear a word I said. So I protest a little louder and no joke he turns to me and says “well if you don’t like it, you can kiss this job goodbye.”

I bit my tongue and returned to my duties angry.

Joe was mad too, he knew that if the supervisor ran things this way, he would receive all the maltreatment as he was the person out front serving. Like I said we were in a bad area.

Customers often came in intoxicated and irritable, there were often fights and we get a lot of homeless people loitering and junkies. He knew he was going to get mistreated by someone tonight who would possibly throw something at him.

Fast forward a few hours into our shift and we are in the middle of our dinner rush. There’s a crapload of orders to be made and not enough meat cooked to make it all.

Customers are complaining about waiting times, I can hear Joe out the front getting absolutely destroyed by the growing mob of angry customers whom he is doing his best to keep calm.

Supervisor for the first time the entire shift comes out to see what’s happening. He sees the mob of angry customers who are starting to shout in anger, hurling insults and all.

He goes out to confront them and calls me to the front.

As soon as I’m in sight of the mob and supervisor he starts to berate me throwing a thousand questions at me at once.

“Why isn’t this done why isn’t that done,” mistreated me further. Then calls Joe over, mistreats us both and tells the customers he’s sorry we are so incompetent, and pulls us both out back.

“If you 2 don’t lift your game, you won’t be working here any longer, and just because you fell so far behind, I’m taking tonight’s pay from you.”

At this point, I wanted to kill him.

We were working our butts off while short-handed and he didn’t lift a finger to help us. I wouldn’t let this slide. It lit a fire in me and I was going to make sure I got paid for tonight no matter what.

So I plotted. I planned. I concocted the evilest plan in my pot of payback potions and would soon conjure it into existence. I even asked Joe for help with it and he agreed willingly once I told him the plan.

This plan would make us legends of our store.

Executing the plan! After the rush was over and we were about to close shop I went on my break. Remember how I said we had a lot of homeless people loitering? Well, I’m thankful we did.

While I was on my break I convinced a homeless man to come and take a dump in the urinal in our bathroom and I would get him some free food.

He laughed at me at first and asked if I was serious. It took a little convincing as he couldn’t believe someone was asking him to do something he usually does without being asked or offered food.

He agrees after a bit, but I told him I would have to sneak him in with the help of Joe.

I bring him to the slide doors and signal Joe to distract the supervisor long enough for him to turn his head from the computer screen and cameras.

We slip in and make it to the bathroom. When we get there I tell him to go in and do the deed while I go make his food. He giggles and agrees and heads in.

I headed to the kitchen where Joe is and tell him the job is underway and I’ll need a distraction to get him out once he was done. Joe tells me he will go to tell the supervisor he is leaving, it will give me a moment to get him back out quickly.

I make the guy’s food and head back to the bathroom entrance but he is still not out. I was waiting a good 10 minutes, he had been in there over 20 minutes.

When he exited, I catch a whiff of the foulest odor seeping from the bathroom. “What the heck, dude, what did you do in there”? He tells me he may have missed a bit, but the job’s done more or less.

I give his food to him and signal Joe to distract him again. Once he does, I sneak the old guy out of the store and thank him for his help to which he replies, “I’ve been asked some weird crap, but you, kid, are messed up.” I wasn’t about to let him steal my pay from me I was going to make him pay for it.

I head back to the bathroom to check, and I tell you, I couldn’t have asked the guy to do a better job. I was aiming for a stool in a puddle, but this was something else.

It had overflown out of the urinal, down the wall, and on the floor; it was everywhere. Joe swung by on his way out and couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

I shook his hand and said to him, “It was a pleasure to work with you, and good luck.” He leaves and I go to confront the supervisor. Once I reached the office I let everything go on him.

I swore at him and told him I quit, Joe’s gone home, I’m leaving, nothing has been cleaned for close, and someone took a dump in the urinal again. He begged me not to leave while I laughed at him maniacally.

Told him to screw off, “You want to take my pay? Take the job too. Have fun scraping poop off the wall.” I threw my shirt at him, walked out, and never went back.

I heard from Joe that the supervisor was there all night cleaning everything and was forced to clean the bathroom. Everyone except the supervisor knows what I did and cheered me for doing it. I went down in store history for the next year. Because it closed after that and was replaced by another generic fast food store.”

4 points (6 votes)
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User Image
Fitz 4 weeks ago
No, not really.
0 Reply

1. Have A Problem With Me? End Up With A Broken Windshield

“This is a story of my high school experience getting one over on my potential driver’s ed teacher. I grew up with a form of autism that was later classified as Asperger’s, but the level of my Asperger’s is low so, I was offered to enroll in the school’s driver’s ed class.

Now, I was what was known as a visual learner, meaning I had a harder time learning through textbooks than I did through hands-on experience or having a visual representation. I could still learn the old-fashioned way, but I would have to work harder at it.

Being able to drive was both an exciting and nervous concept for me at the time, and seeing my single mother’s excitement for the school to offer such a course was a huge relief for her, which motivated me further to try for my license.

I studied the handbook along with my homework. Mom helped me with flashcards for the rules of the road and road signs, basically getting me as prepared as possible to pass the written test before I could get behind the wheel with the teacher.

Well, this is where things went wrong, as part of the test was an eye exam, one on one with the teacher. This teacher was a bit off when it came to kids with my condition, and he made remarks at me during the testing when I’d miss a question, saying things along the lines of how I shouldn’t drive due to how unattentive I’d be, and I didn’t have the mental capacity to drive safely.

Now, these weren’t his exact words, but that was the gist of it.

I got more scared the further in the course I went, not wanting to fail and waste the hard work I put into this course.

But I was making more mistakes and eventually flunking out of the course. The teacher was happy to see me go, and my mom was upset with me that I failed the course.

This caused a bit of depression, and I was about to go down a bad path. However, this opened me up to another course, and I had a natural knack for computers, so I took a computer course instead, learning basics like Office mostly, how to make a presentable PowerPoint presentation, using Word’s document wizard to make things like resumes & proper letters, etc., and a bit of an extensive look through Excel.

This is where I met a good buddy of mine that I still chat with today from time to time. We’d hang out in the computer class during free periods to play Halo CE and Runescape when we were at home.

Fast forward a few months and the end of the quarter comes up. Students get our course letters and reports at this time from the courses we signed up for that quarter, usually letters from the teachers on what we passed on, what we needed to improve on, etc.

Basically a more personalized report card. I, of course, got my computer class course letter along with one from the driver’s ed teacher. I expected the driver’s ed letter to be a basic failure letter, but what I got was so much more.

The teacher not only wrote that I failed but was unfit to drive due to my “disability” and that the DMV would be receiving a recommendation to exclude me from taking a test there.

This upset me of course, and my buddy from computers saw this was affecting me when I would play worse in Halo and appeared less on RS. He shot me a message on AIM asking what was up, and it took a bit before I explained to him about the teacher, how much I felt this affected my mom, and that I might never be able to drive cause of this entitled jerk.

My friend rather than pity me told me that we should get the teacher back. While I was hesitant at first, I agreed to do it as the teacher unknowingly gave us the tools we needed.

The letter I got from the teacher we knew was the teacher’s usual stationery, and he’s been using this for a long time. The formatting was easy to duplicate, and the signature he always used a scan at the bottom for ease.

My buddy came up with most of the plan, while I wrote up a letter in his formatting and scanned a copy of his copied signature onto the document. Yes, I know this could be counted as forgery, but just wait.

Come Monday and my buddy and I arrive at school, going through school as usual until we got to the second period. We both knew that the truck that delivers food to the school for the cafeteria was coming that day.

They usually get a weekly delivery, and they’re usually done unloading mid-second period. How do we know this? Because my buddy has a class that has a view of the loading docks during the second period, usually to wonder what we’re getting that week to eat.

He also is able to see the driver’s ed teacher’s driving course set up in the empty flat-top nearby, one usually used for outdoor basketball and whatnot. Anyway, we head out to the loading docks with the letter in hand and a roll of tape, making sure the delivery driver is deep inside the cafeteria, likely signing off on the shipment or something, while we make our move.

The driver’s ed teacher is also away, taking likely the reports of the prior period to his classroom. We go up to the driver’s door of the truck and tape the folded letter to his door where he’ll see it, get out of there to rush to our next class.

Now, I didn’t have a class this period that could see what unfolded, but my buddy had quite the view of what followed.

The truck driver was heading to his cabin when he spots the note.

He takes it and reads an apology letter from the driver’s ed teacher explaining that one of the students had lost control and had hit his truck. The damage was minor, but it left a few dings.

Sorry, signed the teacher. The driver’s ed teacher came out to an angry truck driver, likely having a few choice words for him and a cracked windshield from the trucker’s bat, on the car the teacher uses to teach students to drive.

I look back on this still happy it had happened, and I’ve shared this story with some close friends over the years. Some people say the windshield was a bit much, likely costing quite a bit to fix.

But this guy tried to limit my life, to harm me, over something I had no control over. Screw that guy, I hope he had to pay for that windshield himself.

Most of my friends agreed with me on that point after the fact.

Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, I was able to get my license despite the recommendation from the teacher.

Turns out, school programs, while they do help get you a step ahead with the DMV, is not required nor really regarded.”

Another User Comments:

“Can’t you get the teacher in trouble for saying your disability is the reason you failed?” Fierydoom123

3 points (5 votes)
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