People Share Their Truly Outstanding Moments Of Revenge

Sometimes people just need a dose of their own medicine when it comes to teaching them a lesson. If you don’t speak the same language, how are you supposed to get your message across? By beating them at their own game, that’s how! You can’t expect to stand up for yourself by just playing nice. You gotta give them back what they gave you, fair and square. They need to know that their actions don’t fall short, and while retribution doesn’t have to be returned 10-fold, it should be delivered at the same degree and swiftly – or just move on.

Below are a few outstanding stories of people who chose to not let bygones be bygones and decided to deliver their revenge and just stand back and watch it go up in flames. Who’s to say it’s right or wrong? Good or bad? At least we can all agree that these are truly outstanding moments of payback!

15. Won’t Give Me My Deposit Back? Ok, I’ll See To It You Pay Me At Least Double

“A few years back I rented a duplex. I lived in it, I moved out.

Nothing special. During the move-out inspection, they did the standard landlord thing and looked for any excuse to deduct from the deposit.

They knew from the lease agreement that we had pets, so of course, the first thing the inspector says entering the house is “I smell animals, we’ll have to charge you to cost of getting a special pet odor removing cleaning service.” We were right there to call him on his ******** with the invoice and paperwork from the cleaning service that already did a comprehensive clean, including a pet odor package. He quickly dropped that *******.

Then* he found a carpet stain which, despite everyone’s best efforts, never completely came out. Fair enough. We were relieved that they didn’t take much off for that at all.

Then he took a little more off for having to patch some holes where we hung photos. In the end, we were still owed at least 80-90% of our original deposit.

They also told us we need to keep the utilities running in our name for a week after we move out so they can do some work on the place. This wasn’t in our lease as something that’s required of us, but I was nice and extended my utilities an extra week for them. Then they told us to extend the utilities another two weeks because they weren’t done. Enough was enough so I told them no.

They gave us a statement of how much our deposit was, how much they deducted and for what, and how much was leftover for us.

By the books… until they didn’t actually deliver it. I tried giving them the benefit of the doubt but they had our mailing address for our next place and it never turned up. I called them, emailed them twice a week asking if they’ve mailed it or if I can just pick it up from their office. No answer, no reply. They were completely ghosting us.

We found out that the state law says if your deposit (minus deductions) isn’t paid within 30 days of vacating, you can take your landlord to court for up to three times the amount of the original deposit, no deductions. We read and studied this law well and concluded that there’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to fight this and win, no lawyer required.

A $90 filing fee later and our landlord was served notice of our intent. Then oooooh, whaddayaknow! After all that ghosting for 45-ish days, the day after we filed our petition we get an e-mail from the landlord saying he sees that we’re wanting to take legal action but has a tremendous offer for us to settle out of court: the full deposit, no deductions, plus the $90 filing fee back.

**** their low ball offer. I replied reminding them that I can force them to pay three times the deposit, but I will settle out of court for just twice the deposit. Did I need to settle? I don’t know, the law says up to three times, so I guess I was worried that if it actually went to court, a judge might decide that the circumstances aren’t bad enough to warrant that much more money for me, so it might not be worth the trouble.

Twice was good enough for me, and making them lose money over it was what I was going for anyways.

They agreed immediately and said I could pick up the check at their office. When I stopped by, what still confuses me to this day was that they still insisted on showing me the report of all the things wrong with the house that they had to deduct from the original deposit, like I gave a **** at that point. That ship had sailed. They were paying me twice the full deposit anyways. They could stick their petty, unfulfilled deductions up their ***.” Phil_Dril

14. Make A Threat Like That And I’ll Send Homeland Security Right On Over To Your Front Door!

“For a while, my wife and I both worked in a call center.

As my ex was better suited to this kind of work, she got promoted to supervisor on one of the escalation teams for our center. Our call center worked specifically for a large ISP in the states, doing tech support for high-speed internet. One of the sad jobs that my Ex got to handle was taking escalation calls from angry customers.

Some of these calls were legitimate complaints. Techs had missed a dispatch, or a trouble ticket had been closed without resolution, or an agent had been particularly rude… those ones she was always happy to deal with.

But some of these calls were not legitimate. They would range from customers that would refuse to troubleshoot, to customers that felt we were spamming their email or any other myriad complaints that came in.

If you can think of it in computer terms, she dealt with it.

This one particular customer was calling in because his activation date was a few days away and he did not want to wait. The agent he spoke with initially explained that they were still provisioning his service and it would be active on the date he was provided.

He wouldn’t accept that and demanded that he speak to a supervisor and my ex got him.

‘Hello, Mr. Smith…’

‘Are you the supervisor?’

‘Yes sir, I understand that…’

‘You need to push the ********* button!’

(Long pause..) ‘I’m… uh… sorry sir, what button are you talking about?’

‘The button that turns on my internet!’

Now, when our customers were being provisioned, there were two types. There were customers that were already wired up and ready to go, and they just needed an activation command sent down to the central office telling their card to start transmitting data.

The second type of customer wasn’t wired up to a card and would need to wait until we could get the card installed on their line and then get everything in place before that command could be sent.

This customer was in the second group. So there was little we could do. He wasn’t having it.

‘I’m sorry sir, I don’t have a button to turn your service on.’

‘That’s *******!* All you have to do is press a button and you know it!’

‘Sir, don’t you think if I could press a button and turn on your service I would do so?’

‘Oh stop ******* lying to me. You either turn it on or I’M gonna turn it on!’

My ex’s eyebrows about popped off her head when he said that.

We had a number of security protocols in place in case someone decided to come to the center with a weapon or incendiary device. (We would get some REALLY angry people sometimes…)

This was not the case, however. This customer decided to take things in what he thought was a new and clever direction.

‘Can you tell me what you mean by that sir?’

‘Either you press the god ****** button and turn on my internet, or I’m going to hack into your network and do it myself!’

Before I go any further, all our calls were logged for quality, and this was occurring just a couple of years after 9/11. Everybody was a little… jumpy.

‘Sir, please, I know you’re joking. But I do have to take threats to the network very seriously, so please don’t talk like that.’

‘I’m not joking! Either you turn on my internet right ******* now or I’m gonna hack in and do it myself and tear your sh*tty network to pieces while I do it!’

‘I’m sorry sir, but I am ending this call due to the nature of the threats you have made.’

‘DON’T YOU….(Click!)’

My ex was pretty frazzled by this but knew immediately that she needed to contact network security.

The customer had made a threat against the network, that we had recorded, and procedures required the call be made.

She reached out and got one of the security team reps, and they had a quick discussion. My ex explained the customer’s problem and then detailed the threat the customer had made. The security rep listened to her and chuckled. They both suspected this customer was far from ‘leet’ but their hands were tied. The security rep had her forward the call recording to him and then he reached out to authorities with the customer threat.

As we were a national network provider, and the customer had threatened to ‘tear the network to pieces’, he had to reach out to homeland security.

Homeland security agreed with their assessment.

The customer was an ****** making empty threats, we were most likely not going to get hacked. Still, like us, they had procedures to follow as well.

I don’t know specifically what happened, but I do know that Homeland security decided to visit this customer immediately and speak with him to determine if the threat was valid. The next morning, the security guy called my wife back and gave her the update. There was no threat to the network. At all. Ever. Not from this guy. He didn’t know specifically what happened either, but the way Homeland security described it, the threat the customer had made had put him into ‘No knock/Flashbang/Nobody move!’ territory.

But just to be certain, they were going to cancel his internet service and deny any future orders.

Can’t have a master hacker with easy access to the system, right? “Spugnacious

13. Sneaking In Your Garbage After You Can’t Pay? My Dad Will Unload More Than Just His Anger On You

“My father is a shy and quiet man. Growing up, he and I weren’t close. He didn’t quite understand my overly dramatic responses to everything. We didn’t “connect” on any level. The only time he generally spoke to me was when he was angry with me because I was arguing with my mom.

However, when I was 11, I was able to form a special secret bond with my father. We did a very bad thing, and then kept the secret from my mother, and in my mind, the authorities. This secret (which will now no longer be a secret) has bonded us together ever since.

To this day, we still talk about the time when we practically broke the law. My dad still beams with pride, as if it was his crowning moment. It’s a story I treasure because it’s ours.

Sunday was an obligatory church day in our house. My mother taught Sunday school, my brother attended Sunday school, I sang in the children’s choir and my dad was a deacon or some such ranking official. After church, my mother would stay in town and pick up greeting cards at the Hallmark store or refill prescriptions. On this particular Sunday, my parents had driven separately to church so my father wouldn’t have to partake in card shopping. My brother was going with my mom. I weighed my options and decided to forego shopping and hopped in my father’s pickup truck.

“We have to stop off at the shop.” my father said.

My father was the owner and operator of the town’s only garbage removal company, Waste-Away Disposal Service (“A Refuse You Can’t Offer”). We didn’t have city-funded garbage service in our tiny village, and my father had trucks, employees, a shop/garage, offices, and he also managed the city dump. As a child, I was always embarrassed by his work. Kids would pick on me about being a garbage picker or “always having enough to eat.” Later in life, I would come to appreciate the financial benefits of being the daughter of a “garbage picker” and have since been quite proud of my father’s business.

As we pulled up to the shop, I noticed two garbage trucks parked in front of the garage.

My dad immediately started swearing.

“That ******* son of a ****!* I’m god ****** tired of his *******!* He’s stealing from me. Seven ******* dollars a month and he’s stealing from me! God d*mned son of a ****!* Emily, get in the god ****** garbage truck!”

This was probably more words than my father had ever spoken to me, and the first time I’d heard him say the “F” word. I was alarmed. As I climbed in the garbage truck, my father explained. An angry guy who lived around the corner refused to pay his garbage bill and had gotten upset with my father about the fee of $7.00 a month for garbage service. After some yelling, he promptly canceled his service with my father.

Then, the guy started sneaking his garbage over to the shop at night and throwing it in the back of the garbage trucks that weren’t parked inside. He was, in fact, stealing from my father.

My father continued on to say the guy wasn’t terribly smart as he always threw away his mail with his name and address and was easily identified. As we pulled up, he had noticed new garbage thrown in the back of the truck (not compressed) including letters and magazines.

“I’ve had 6 conversations with that guy about throwing his garbage in here. I told him I was going to take him to court if he didn’t quit.”

I didn’t know what was going on, but I was quite afraid of how angry my dad was.

I’d never seen that part of him before. I thought maybe we were going to drive over to the guy’s house and fight him. I was truly scared of what might happen because I didn’t consider my dad a good fighter; he was too shy and nice. My dad backed the full garbage truck onto the street and turned the corner. We soon pulled up to a ranch style home with a sizeable front yard. I could only assume this was an angry guy’s house, but I was still completely unsure what my dad had in mind.

Instead of pulling into the driveway, my father swore a few more times and backed the garbage truck through the front yard, stopping precisely at the moment the back of the truck touched the cement set of porch stairs.

There were deep tire tracks in the grass and mud troughs had formed where grass once grew. Crime 1: Destruction of Property.

I was only able to observe what was going on outside through the side mirror, but from inside the truck, I noticed my father pushing buttons and pulling levers. Then I realized what was happening. My father was dumping the entire garbage truck filled with trash onto the man’s front steps and porch. This was all the trash that the truck had picked up and compacted in a day. This was much much more than an angry man’s trash. It was half the town’s trash! As we pulled away, my father exclaimed, “I bet he doesn’t dump his garbage in my trucks again!”

I looked back as we drove off to see a mountain and a half of garbage propped perfectly in front of the house, piled high on the cement patio.

The wrought iron railing held it all neatly in place and the front door was no longer visible behind the wall of refuse. Crime 2: Littering, Crime 3: Front Yard Invasion

I kept imagining an angry guy walking out his front door in his bathrobe, bleary-eyed, and searching for his Sunday paper, only to find a mountain of trash he would have no way of removing. I imagined him taking a few seconds to realize who had done the deed and then calling the police to have us arrested. My dad just smiled. I think he was imagining the man in his bathrobe standing in a pile of garbage too.

Then, in a typical father-form, my father said, “Don’t tell your mother. That was probably illegal.”

In that instant, I knew I was special.

My dad trusted me with his illegal activities, and now I had something in common with him, a connection I’d never had before. Although I was somewhat horrified about the whole incident, I was excited to have something to talk about with my dad when I visited him in jail. I also was secretly proud that my dad was such a ******.

We quickly drove back to the shop and got into my dad’s pickup and headed home. I was speechless and my father was too busy beaming to say a word. When we arrived 4 minutes later, I didn’t look at my mother in the eye. I feared she would see the crimes written in my pupils. I knew the police would soon be taking me away.

Based on what I had learned about jail from TV, I determined I was an accomplice. I’d most likely be going to jail for 10-15 years and my father would certainly get life. I tried not to cry as I sat on the couch searching out the window, waiting for the police to come. I was afraid for weeks, always fearful when a car pulled down our street.

The police never came and my father and I kept our secret. One day, years later he told me the guy started coming to the dump religiously after that and paid to dump his trash there instead. He never said a word to my dad about the mountain of trash and apparently no witnesses ever put me at the scene of the crime.

Now, every time I bring up that story, my dad laughs so hard he cries. He’s still so proud of the day he took down the man who stole from him. He always finishes the story with, “he never did dump his trash in my trucks again.”

Then, he always says, between tears, “I guess we really did have a refuse he couldn’t offer.”

I never did understand that slogan, but I too laugh until I cry just the same.” magooism

12. Go Over My Head And Offer Your Own Consultation? Not If I Can Help It

“I joined the Navy when I was 18, ended up as a Corpsman in Iraq and Afghanistan, and, when I returned, found out that I was going to have to take classes to even become an EMT.

**** that, right? So I did the next best thing: I got a degree in Economics. Now I see you there, grinning ear to ear. What an idiot, right? Well, it turned out pretty well for me. I picked up a job for 35k/yr as a business consultant for a smallish company in the area. Now, I’ll use a pseudonym for my boss’s name here, he’d be Jeff.

So I’m 25, fresh with a BA in Econ(studying with sandy pants ain’t fun), with a pretty decent job. Jeff and I seem to get along, the only problem is that he’s…a product of the 80s. Everything was about cutting corners and cutting costs as much as possible to stay stable in bad times.

But this was around 2009, and my take on it was that it’d lead to businesses continuing to drop out. They cut costs, which cuts demand in the area, which further kills businesses, so we have to expand our areas further and further just to break even. And, you know, I’m okay with this, because where he’d offer his ‘expertise’ in business, I’d offer mine from an economics standpoint, and much of the time, my ideas ended up with better results.

Well, Jeff doesn’t like this, too much. He cut his teeth in business when I was still in diapers, right? So he keeps moving me off projects and onto smaller ones, where the commission isn’t as great, and the businesses are already knee-deep in cost-cutting, so it’s almost impossible to turn it around as people keep leaving the area because they’ve been foreclosed on.

But that isn’t what got me. Oh, no. We’re talking about a six-figure contract now, and he taps me to work on it because we recently lost a senior analyst. This is my chance, right? So I work with this business for months straight, and slowly, what started as a 10% quarterly loss turned to 5%, then breaking even, before finally turning a profit. It’d be a nice tidy bonus for me. Bzzt, wrong! After the latest quarterly report pegged their growth at around 3%, they started slipping back, again.

Why you ask? Because my boss went over my head and started offering his own consultation. They’d make much more money, he reasoned, if they just cut back on workers, brought on some temps at half the pay of their staff, or eased off of maintenance of their machinery.

So they started doing that, and they started falling behind. My boss then blamed this on me, and my “delusions of grandeur” and my “naivete.” I figured out that he had been reviewing my work, then replacing my suggestions and analysis with his own. They fired, under his consultation, half of their workforce, who knew what they were doing by then, and replaced them with temps who…diddon’t know what they were doing. The resultant waste numbers blossomed higher than they’ve ever been, and they were mad. They wanted *****, and my phone was ringing off the hook as they blamed me for their company’s negative turnaround.

So I quit. But I was so ****** mad – madder than I was when a Marine would shake me up at 0300 because he had to guard duty at 0400 and the ******* French shared their wine with him.

I wasn’t doing anything with my money. Between extra from GI Bill, post 9/11 money, bonuses, and my wonderful paycheck, I already had a stable home, and enough money saved up that I didn’t have to work for about 10 years. But that’s not REVENGE, is it?

It started small. I worked out of my apartment calling up the small businesses that I had successfully consulted for over a couple of years. Freed them from the oppressive grasp of my former boss, who had started filling their heads with fear-mongering about wasted profit. 1 business turned into 3, then 10. Jeff’s company was starting to flounder because while the larger businesses paid much more because of their size and complexity, the bulk of his profit came from the smaller, quicker jobs with tinier independent companies.

With this new profit, I put a down on a small property down the road from Jeff’s office. One of the many businesses that shut down during the recession, partly due to his corrupting influence. I needed more people, so I hired a recent Econ grad to help me out. I bide my time, snatching up small contracts, and working on pulling the larger ones. Lots of driving, cold calls, and actively showing up. I finally returned to the company that had trouble before – the one Jeff threw me under the bus for, and lo and behold, who do I find? But Jeff himself. The owner of this company was having a rather heated argument with Jeff about the state of his business, and Jeff, being who he was, was talking his way out of it.

So I roll up, portfolio in hand, filled with the successful reports from the small businesses I already took from Jeff, and as soon as he sees me, his eyes go wide as dinner plates. In front of God and everyone, I start my pitch, I push this portfolio onto the owner and explain, in cold, calculating detail, how I managed to keep these businesses running. The gears are turning in the owner’s head, and Jeff looks apoplectic before I add “Before Jeff decided he knew better than I did, I was doing this for your business, too.”

All **** breaks loose. Jeff just wails on me. “You ungrateful little ***,”* and “after all I did for you,” “nobody else would hire a college puke with no BUSINESS experience.” The owner had him escorted off the property, and I offered my services to his company for free until he realized that I KNEW what I was doing.

A few months later, I had a neat little six-figure contract of my own – my very first one – and I brought two more people on the payroll. Jeff wasn’t too happy, though. Oh, no. He started sending me harassing e-mails, thinly veiled(or not at all) threats, so I responded the best way I could. I sent him a bouquet of flowers with my card, and on the back of it, “Sorry to hear about your business troubles. If you need a business consultation, you’re welcome to give me a call.”

It is now 2016, and his business has shuttered. I’m currently working from home due to an accident that broke my arm(broke it in three places, it is NOT FUN), but my second in command, a woman who also served in Iraq, and now with an econ degree of her own, called me on Monday.

We picked up another six-figure contract, and we’ll need new people. She had someone in mind for the position, best resume in the pile, a guy by the name of Jeff, with 40 years of business consulting experience.

I told her to toss the resume and go for someone a little fresher.

Feels good, man. So ******* good.” [deleted]

11. Steal My Space? I’ll Come Up With An Elaborate Plan To Mess With You

“I thought I’d finally take the time to type this up, as this epic saga of ********** ***has finally drawn to a close.

I work for a small business, in a very busy area of North London. Behind our building, there is a very small car-park that holds 8 cars, which are divided evenly between us and a neighboring business.

We have to pay about £1200 a year each in order to reserve one of the spaces, which isn’t a problem as driving is an important aspect of our work, and we are frequently in and out of the office multiple times a day. The car-park itself is controlled by a company, however, because it is so small, and because there are only ever the same 8 cars in there, they never actually turn up to enforce anything unless we ask them to.

Now, about 7 weeks ago an unknown vehicle started appearing in the car-park. Every day. Always in MY ****** SPACE.

I immediately started leaving my car just behind the anonymous vehicle, blocking him into the space. However, I obviously finished work earlier than the idiot who was parking there, as I never got to meet him, and they never asked me to come and move.

I also left multiple notes on the car asking them to phone me, yet I still heard nothing, and would frequently find the notes scrunched up on the floor.

After about 10 days I had completely lost my *** and started to formulate a plan as to how best to *** the person over. I contemplated phoning the parking company, who would have come and issued the person a ticket (they have our reg numbers, so they know which cars belong there), but I didn’t think that was a strong enough response.

It then struck me that, not only was one of my colleagues going on paternity leave for 2 weeks, but my brother was also leaving that weekend to go to Canada for a month, and I would be in the possession of two cars and an extra parking space.

So, I waited until as late as possible on Friday evening, before parking my brother’s car directly behind my space, blocking the guy’s car in. I then proceeded to phone the parking company, and gave them my brother’s registration, to ensure that his car wouldn’t be touched the entire time it was parked. I also made sure to mention that there has been a red Ford Fiesta Zetec, that keeps parking illegally, and that maybe they should come on Monday to issue them a ticket.

Sure enough, as I arrive at work on Monday, I find an extremely irate, sweaty man screaming at the parking enforcement officer for issuing him a ticket, because he is obviously unable to move. It was explained that the car blocking him in was properly permitted, so it doesn’t matter that he now can’t move, as he was parked illegally in the first place and he has to pay £100 fine.

At this point, I am crying with laughter and really struggled to hold it together when they asked if I knew who owned my brother’s car. Sadly, I didn’t.

The man was then told that there is nothing they can do about the car blocking him in, because it was permitted, so he would need to find the owner and get them to move it (haha *** you pal). I proceeded to park in the space vacated by my colleague and didn’t think much of it until the following morning when I entered the car-park to find the same man arguing with a different parking official. He got another £100 fine, and although she was more sympathetic to him, she said he would only have until Thursday (two days) to move the car.

Sure enough, Thursday comes and he gets another £100.

The car remained there for a month, and the parking official turned up at least 18 more times, meaning he had a minimum fine of about £2000 (it was probably more tbh). The man was in our office on a daily basis asking if we had seen the owner, and he made sure to let us know that he would ‘*** them up’ once he found out who it was. Everyone in both offices knew exactly what was going on, so it was a real struggle not to laugh in his *** little face when he came in begging for news on the owner.

Then, in a truly vindictive move, even after my colleague returned from paternity leave, I continued to leave my brother’s car there and parked my car a 10-minute walk away just to ensure this ***** got what he deserved.

I didn’t care that it inconvenienced me, I just wanted retribution.

My brother returned from Canada on the weekend, so we finally got round to moving his car on Sunday evening when we knew the guy wouldn’t be around.

I came into work Monday morning and the car was gone. It’s now Thursday and it hasn’t been since, so maybe he’s learned his lesson.” [deleted]

10. Rob Us At Gunpoint? I’ll Frame You Into Going To Prison

This happened somewhere in the middle east.

“I (22) met a guy named ‘Ali’ through my best friend ‘Ahmed.’ Ali seemed cool enough that we ended up hanging out a lot. When Ahmed (studying abroad) noticed me and Ali become closer [through social media], he warned me not to let my guard down because Ali isn’t how he seemed and that he’ll use me.

I wish I had listened, but I did not because I really thought me and Ali have become really good friends. He was very respectful and seemed thoughtful.

Ali is a citizen of the country we live in (I’m not), and he made me feel really bad for him because of the stories he fed me over hookah and *****. He told me stories about how his father abused him and his brother and mother. He told me about how they’re about to be homeless because his father (who lives alone) would not pay rent. He was driving a really messed up car. Once, I was telling him about the dark web and everything that goes through it, he cried and begged me to find someone on the dark web who’d buy his kidney, so he can provide for his family.

I was sad. It’s very bad luck for a citizen of this country to live almost below the poverty lines. So, I felt bad for him, toppled with *****, I was very generous to him, too.

Since we met, I was paying for everything: food, *****, drinks, hookah, and we were spending almost all day together. Whenever he mentioned a financial problem, I never hesitated to help. I am a distance student with no job, but my father is a very successful businessman and gives me (his only son) a hefty sum every month. My father is really cool, and we’re like friends, we smoke hash, and he manly dips with drinks, a habit he picked up during his college years in the American south (which is illegal in this country).

My father gets his stash and drinks from his friend who lives near a border town and is heavily involved in smuggling. Every six months, my father receives the goodies, and he pays cash upfront. His stash and booze are actually very expensive so 6 months’ worth is a lot of money. The reason my father gets six months’ worth at once is that a lot of western, African, and Asian businessmen visit him. And booze is something they all want. Now, Ali already knows all that.

Unbeknownst to me, Ali had a greedy plan devised all along. He knew all the procedures involved during that transaction between my father and the smugglers. And he waited for 6 months, so he and his other friends can rob them.

He sure was using me, and he was really good at it. I had mentioned to him that I was thinking about throwing a humble party when the goodies arrive, and he asked me the exact day, and I told him without thinking.

And that faithful day arrived, and he and his friends stalked our house until the refrigerated trailer arrived. Before they unloaded it; however, my friend and his crew of 6, masked, armed, and impersonating the police, raided our house. They cuffed two of my uncles, four of the smugglers, and locked them in a room with 5 other clueless people who were in the house, and the robbers made off with the cash and the trailer.

The locked up people genuinely believed the police were searching the entire house, so they sat quietly.

They didn’t know “the police” had already left. 2 hours later, my sister got to a dead empty house and frantically called me. I was at a cafe blowing hookah alone thinking my friend Ali was sleeping. When she called, I drove home and started looking in every room, and I found my terrified family and smugglers. I asked what has happened, and one of the smugglers instantly laughed and asked me if there were police outside to which I replied, “no,” and then he cursed and said, “The corrupt police stole the booze and *****.” Since that was a common occurrence, usually with smaller amounts, we all thought that was just that. Crooked cops.

The tech savage person he is, my father has most of the house outfitted with high tech surveillance.

My uncle and I started watching, and that’s when I realized how good the sound system was. You can hear everything so clearly. I also noticed a very familiar body posture and gestures from one of the “officers.” I thought, “Could that be who I think he is?” When I heard his voice (multiple times), I was dumbfounded and furious. I drove to his home, and his car was not in the parking lot. I called him, and he answered acting as though he just woke up. I told him that “the police just robbed us.” He acted all concerned, and I told him I’ll be at the cafe. Meanwhile, I called Ahmed and told him everything. He was not surprised at all; in fact, he told me he knew Ali and his friends would impersonate a police officer to rob foreigners.

He told me Ali had actually spent 6 months in prison a couple of years back for theft. I had no clue.

Anyways, all came to the cafe, eager to hear what happened and congratulating me because it could have gone bad. I played along; I didn’t tell him ***. I never gave away the fact that I knew everything. I was just thinking about how to possibly screw him over. If I called cops on him and his friends, they’ll most definitely rat us out. They’re thieves. The stuff had to come from somewhere.

I decided to play the long game and think about what I could do to him thoroughly. I also told my dad, and he told me to never tell him that I knew it was him and to try and break contact with him.

Since he was a citizen, and my father didn’t want to bring unnecessary attention to himself because he has a business to protect, my father never got involved directly with the ***** and booze. His bros would take the fall if anything were to happen.

My uncle, however, was concerned if they somehow *** up and get caught, they’d still snitch, so he asked me to find out where exactly they stashed the stuff. After weighing my options, I decided to buy a GPS tracking device and attached it to three of Ali’s friends and his cars. I found out the place where all three cars frequented at the same time and told my uncle. It turns out that the house belongs to one of Ali’s friend’s cousins (Wasim) who happened to be a huge dealer of illegal substances.

My uncle then approached Wasim’s friend about purchasing some goodies and the friend took him right to Wasim’s home. That way, my uncle confirmed probably all of the booze was inside. My uncle (26) then turned the table on them by impersonating “secret police” raiding Wasim’s home and took everything available. They filled Wasim’s car with all the illegal stuff he was selling, and they deliberately crashed his car on a highway and placed a passed out Wasim in the driver’s seat. I don’t think he knew when exactly the real police caught up with him.

Well, my uncle’s great plan got me thinking about how I could finally get Ali! I was still angry at him.

Ali didn’t know that I was bi.

That’s because you don’t talk about that kind of stuff around here. Anyways, I met a guy (Angel) from North America in his final year studying as an international student. We hit it off, and I started spending more time with him as I continued to distance myself from everyone else. Ali still had the money he stole from us, so he didn’t care much; his life is basically: do *****, sleep and eat. He’s got that covered for a while.

Fast forward a year, my entire family, along with the family business moved to the neighboring country. I left with Angel and he and I were discussing moving to his country, and I was seriously considering that as well. Finally, when he graduated, we decided to live our lives.

Angel would first go and arrange everything before I joined him after a month. Out of the blue, I remembered about Ali. I barely saw him in the past 6 months by making up excuses like, “I’m not in the country,” but there was no way I was going to leave without getting him back.

A plan came to my mind. Just like how my uncle screwed Wasim by framing him, I wanted to do the same. I told Angel all about my plans. He thought the outcome could be too cruel. He is a very gentle person. But I assured him that they’d have killed my family had my uncles resisted the day of the robbery. Angel knew a little bit of the story, but he never met Ali.

My plan was for Angel to rent a car a week before his departure. And a day before his departure, he parked it in front of a supermarket while the engine is running to get “something quickly,” and I then “stole” the car. The camera showed a well-disguised man speeding away. He called the police, they reviewed the footage, and alerted the rental company. The rental company then gave him another car, which he returned to the rental company’s airport branch the next day before departing home.

I hid the car I stole at a location cops would not go to look. I also hid a fairly large amount of ***** and some cash under the trunk lid. I put the keys on the front tire.

Then I traveled the breadth and length of the Atlantic ocean to go be with my angel, Angel.

After overcoming jet lag and the confusion of time differences… I called Ali on Snapchat. And asked him “to please pick me and mom from the airport within an hour as my uncle couldn’t pick us up as something urgent came up at the last hour, but he has left a car at [location], and the key is on the front-left tire.” Since Ali’s car is a mess, he didn’t offer to use his own. He assured me “I had nothing to worry about.”

He picked up the nice BMW rental in less than 30 minutes, and he let me know. “I’ll see you at the airport,” was his last words.

I put the ***** under the trunk lid because airport security would always, without exception, would lift the lid up to check. I letter learned that he got 5 years for being in the position of a stolen vehicle and position of ***** with intent to distribute.” Arabicstyle

9. Don’t Want To Pay Us? Ok, But We’ll Call Our Friends At The IRS

“So this all happened around a year ago. I was a senior in high school and my friend and I were looking for some spare cash to be made, naturally, so we went ‘window shopping’ for jobs at our local mall. After browsing for any store that was possibly hiring we walk past a pillow kiosk. The kiosk donned a “NOW HIRING” sign so my friend and I applied.

Luckily for us, the owner was there and hired us on the spot… Red flag! He took our names, addresses, and emails (no social security, I will get to that later).

Breakdown of the job: Stand at the pillow stand, approach people, and ask them to buy overpriced pillows. If we sold X amount of product then we would be able to make a commission.

Before I press on I need to say my father has always given me this golden advice, “Always have evidence of your hours,” to which I have taken photos of my punch times for every job I have had. Right, moving on. Our bosses were two Israeli gentlemen who said we would be paid every Wednesday (they were personal checks, again a red flag).

I worked there for two weeks without a hitch, making a commission for nearly every day I worked there. The third week rolls around and the mall wasn’t as busy as it was normally (possibly attributed to nice weather) and I had no chance of making a commission for that day. Oh well I think, It’s no big deal, I think. I was wrong… Sort of, as it turned out to be a hassle for me, financially crippling for them.

The day after my missed commission day I get a call while on my lunch hour at school.

“FDBS, it’s me, bossman, I see you did not sell many pillows yesterday and this is being unacceptable. I will not be paying you for this week.”

“But Mr.

Bossman, that is illegal. You have to pay me for this week.”

“I cannot pay you for this week, you not sell many pillows yesterday.”

Oh man, OH MAN. Here it comes. As an angsty high school senior, I couldn’t wait for this. I knew what was coming, as I had documented my hours and everything. I show up at the pillow stand after school to confront him, and he once again says that he cannot pay but this time he said I cannot prove my hours, “See!” he says as he pulls up the now blank punch card.

“Oh that’s unfortunate, but… See!” as I pull up my phone with all the pictures on it. He gets really hesitant and visibly distraught.

“As I have said, I cannot pay…” said Mr.

Bossman

“Do you want me to call the IRS?” I said.

“Ah – You do not need to call them, why you threaten me? I will pay you only because you do threaten me and I feel like untrue things will be said to the IRS.”, said Mr. Bossman.

To sum up the next part of the story, my friend and I quit that day, we got paid in full 3 days early (again personal check), and OH, that’s right, I called the IRS to report tax evasion (as the bosses never took taxes out of our checks, never took our social). We got audited and had to pay roughly $50 in back taxes, however, they were no longer at the mall the following week (they had mentioned having a yearly contract that was up in December, this was May).” FlowDragBlowSnag

8. Try To Weasel Me Out Of My House Because I Won’t Sell It? Say Bye To Your Restaurant

“My friend inherited his parent’s house a few years back and has been slowly renovating it.

The house is nothing special and not in the best area but it’s his. No banks no mortgage. It also happens to be next door to a restaurant.

The restaurant had been a neighborhood fixture for decades but has slowly declined with the neighborhood. Cue the old owners walking away and selling it to a real sleazeball. The new owner wants to buy my friend’s house to demo it so he can expand the restaurant’s parking lot. Instead of offering a fair price, sleazeball tries to lowball my friend assuming he doesn’t know the property’s potential value. Sleazeball gets offended when my friend counters with fair market value and begins to bully him with passive-aggressive ***: delivery trucks blocking his sidewalk, new super bright security lights that shine into the house, etc.

On top of that, sleazeball is openly racist and refers to my friend as all sorts of epithets. Sleazeball even tries to turn the neighbors against my friend by telling them that he’s a drunk, has anger issues, etc. All the while sleazeball is doing major renovations/expansions to his restaurant…

The revenge: my friend does contracting work for the city and is on a first-name basis with the local boards. Turns out sleazeball didn’t file for the proper permits… After an ‘anonymous’ report to the inspectors, he’s ordered to demolish the new expansion. You’d think that’d be it, but oh no… The restaurant hasn’t been properly inspected for years and the city orders further inspections. Another anonymous report stated that the restaurant was unsanitary.

No surprise, it fails the health & safety inspection and is condemned as structurally deficient. Between the fines, repair costs, and loss of business the owner files for bankruptcy, and the old restaurant is demolished.” NewSprog4Me

7. If You’re Going To Commit Multiple Crimes, Be Smart Or Don’t Do It At All

“I own a large apartment complex dedicated to affordable housing. It’s basic, but the market rate in the area is low enough that people on welfare can easily afford the rent, I can run the business profitably and offer safe and secure housing.
It’s not the easiest job housing people on welfare, but I’m very proud to say that every apartment in the complex is at worst 8 hours of cleaning and 8 hours of painting away from a condition that I wouldn’t mind spending the night in myself.

One of the challenges of welfare housing is that people on welfare often suffer from mental health issues, physical health issues, and addiction issues. The latter is almost exclusively a result of the former, as I’ve discovered. These issues make my tenants especially vulnerable to low-level drug dealers who try to leverage their way onto my property.

Due to the Tenancy Act, if someone is invited into an apartment, it is quite difficult to get them out in the short term.

Unless I can catch them on camera committing some obvious criminal act, the police cannot remove them if a tenant gives them permission to be there. Since a sizeable percentage of my 200-odd tenants are current or former or future addicts, you can start to see the problem.

Typically what happens with a low-level drug dealer will wait until the week before welfare day, when people are out of money. They will approach them and offer $100-$500 in cash to set up shop in their apartment. Once the dealer gets the keys, they might intimidate or threaten the tenant to leave their own apartment, or simply feed them ***** to keep them quiet.

My only legal recourse is to evict the tenant, in which case the dealer will hang on until the bailiff arrives, then move into another apartment. I lose money, the tenant loses their home and the dealer just finds another victim.

One particularly tenacious dealer had gone through about 5 apartments without getting busted. I had video footage of him, I had numerous complaints, but no statements and nothing concrete enough for the police to move on.

One older lady told me that he had offered her $300 to sell crack out of her apartment and she had told him to *** right off. She told me she was willing to write an anonymous letter but was too scared of him to sign it or give a statement to the police. I put up signs in all the doorways warning tenants that they would be evicted if they rented their apartment to that particular drug dealer, mentioning him by name.

This offended him greatly, as for some reason he didn’t like being called a drug dealer. The next day his 10-year-old white Cadillac Escalade pickup truck came screaming up to my office, and he got out and walked towards me, brandishing his smartphone.

“Are you accusing me of being a drug dealer? This is for my lawyer, he said you are slandering me with those notices, I’ve already got copies of them, I’m going to own your building..” He’s lying about the lawyer part, because A) a lawyer would have said libel, not slander and B) he’s a ****** drug dealer so I just tell him he’s trespassing and to get off my property. I told him this is his trespass notice and if he comes back I’m towing his truck. He tells me that if I touch his truck I’m a dead man.

I’m not recording this, but I call the police anyway and tell them about the altercation. They seem to think my report of his threat is enough so that they can ask him to leave the property, even if he is invited by someone.

They also encourage me to tow his truck anytime I see it.

About a week later, I see his truck is back so I get on the phone with the tow company. While I’m waiting for them, I load up the bed of his Escalade with about 10 bags of old drywall that we’ve removed during a reno. The drywall is asbestos-containing, so it’s all double-bagged in bright yellow biohazard bags and ducted-tape closed.

The tow truck shows up, hooks the Escalade, and takes it away to the city impound lot. A police car shows up and escorts the dealer off the property after tracking down the apartment he’s holed up in.

About a month later one of my tenants comes back from his court appointment giddy with excitement – while he was waiting for his case to be heard, he saw the drug dealer get sentenced.

Apparently the drug dealer had gone to the impound yard and retrieved his truck the next afternoon. Being colossally stupid, he had pulled outside the gates and dumped all 10 bags of drywall right on the curb, either forgetting that an impound yard is covered in cameras, or not realizing that dumping hazardous waste can be a felony.

The municipality saw the pile of bags screaming “Hazard – Asbestos” and checked the footage. They called the police, who then pulled over the Escalade that evening. Since it was after 4 pm, the drug dealer was visibly intoxicated which resulted in a DUI arrest and… a search of his person and vehicle… and since he was on his way to the “trap house” aka my building, he was carrying over an ounce of hard *****, a few grams of another kind of hard drug and bunch of baggies and a scale.

He is not a smart man.
Turns out he had less than a month left of probation so…..

He pleaded guilty to possession with intent, got the trafficking charges, and some other charges and was sentenced to 4 years in prison.

I checked BC Justice Online and confirmed that he did in fact get 4 years. I also saw some other charges which I didn’t recognize – 7(2), 10(1), and 120(12) of the Environmental Management Act, $2,000 in fines. Turns out they are “Release of hazardous waste, unauthorized transport of hazardous waste and contravene hazardous waste regulations.” [deleted]

6. Get Between Me And My Donut? Better Get Ready To Pay The Price

“When I was 17, I got my first job in fast food. I never had many problems (the occasional rude customer but that’s about it).

I did however have a really rude, b*tchy coworker (let’s call her Brit), who would always go out of her way to be rude to me. She had some problems with me I guess. I never did anything, she just did.

So one day, after the biggest rush we’d had in months, we were all exhausted. We were short-staffed, so it was me and Brit alone in the front, the cook, and our gm (general manager). She was being especially nasty and my gm could see I was at my wit’s end. The gm decides to be gracious and goes to the Dunkin’ Donuts next door. He got just enough for everybody to have one, and I chose the chocolate. Since it wasn’t my break yet, I had to wait to eat it but that’s fine.

Midway through both of our shifts, the gm asks who wants a break first, and Brit moves to break-out faster than she has ever gotten an order ready. She takes her donut to the lobby, orders her food, and takes her break. It was a break for both of us because I didn’t have to interact with her for a solid 32 min.

After her break is up, it’s my turn. I break-out, and I order my lunch. Afterward, I go to retrieve the donut that I’d been saving, to find an empty box. I ask the gm, he doesn’t know. I ask the cook, doesn’t know. I groan internally and ask Brit. She had this to say.

“Yeah sorry but I ate it.

I was tired and hungry, and looking at you, I could tell you didn’t need it anyway.” At the time, I was 205 lb and very insecure about my weight. She wasn’t finished though. “Honey, it’s the girls that are supposed to have ******* lol!”

After 7 months of stress and sh*t-talk from her, she had done it. I had finally snapped. I vowed to do everything I could to make her life harder.

For the next month, I would do so many things just to *** her over. First I made sure to request days that she was working, which was easy because my shift manager didn’t give a ***.  Then the fun started. I would request breaks before the usual rush hours.

We were usually short-staffed because people would just not show up. This left her alone during the busiest hours. If I couldn’t get a break, I would just hide in camera blind spots or take out the trash for 45 min. That wasn’t enough. Eventually, I wanted to do more, so I would start hiding her things. Placing her jacket, wallet, and purse in or behind boxes. If she ever asked about them or their whereabouts, I would shrug. One time I threw her keys in an empty grease trap. She looked for 2 hours after her shift before I “found” them lol. It wasn’t enough.

I would go out of my way to mess up her orders, but in a subtle way making her think she did it.

I stole her uniform shirt one time when she mistakenly left it there, threw it away on garbage day, she had to pay $25 for a new one. One day she was whining to me about the job.

“Somebody’s ****** with me. Like really messing with me trying to get me to quit probably.” I asked what she meant, and she had listed every little thing I did to her. I asked if she had anybody in mind. “Well don’t worry, it’s not you. You’re too stupid to do something this sneaky.” She laughed for a bit, and I laughed with her. Because she gave me an idea. This whole time I’d been trying to get her to quit. I really was dumb.

I needed to get her fired.

I started doing everything more frequently, but on top of that, I messed with her register. I would short-change customers, move money across registers, and start taking about $2.50 from her register each shift. I started hiding the money for later. It started coming out of her paychecks. But it wasn’t enough. And one day I had done it. I got her fired.

That day I took the collective $300 that had been stolen, and shoved it in her pockets, hid her jacket as usual, and then I put my wallet in there. After about 6 hours I screamed “MY WALLET’S MISSING!!!” and came up with some bs about how I left it in the manager’s office.

We closed like an hour later, and we searched every nook and cranny. Eventually, we stumbled on Brit’s jacket.

“There it is,” she exclaimed as she swiped it from under the oven. With her jacket pocket stuffed with 1’s and 5’s, they were too packed to properly hold my wallet. It plopped on the floor in front of my gm. Afterward, the gm found, in exact change, all the money that was missing, and she was fired. Finally, the thorn in my side was gone, and I’d never felt more satisfied in my life. I kinda felt bad, but then again, it may have been the ******* talking. Long story short, never come between a ****** and his donut.” Slushball28

5. Talk A Big Game About Being Scared? Ha, We’ll Get You Good

“I used to do a lot of community service back in high school, especially when I was in JROTC, as they had events almost every weekend.

They had an annual Halloween festival at a local heritage park that half the unit signed up for. A handful of my friends and I (including a girl I was rather interested in) were assigned to help run a haunted museum tour. We had scripts we were told to follow, but they said we can improvise to our hearts’ content. The stuff we were told to follow was pretty kiddie stuff. Gross-out scares, spooky noises, an animatronic witch jump-scaring you at the end. Typical family-friendly amusement.

Well, we soon grew bored of that stuff and so too did a lot of the older kids. So we decided to ramp things up for those looking for more of a thrill. We proceeded to make heavy changes to parts of the exhibit (with the permission of those in charge) and turned it into quite the house of terror if we so allowed it.

We even had various levels of intensity based on the age of the audience. It was going really well. A lot of people even made several returns.

At least, it was going well until we had the misfortune of being graced with the presence of one particular obnoxiously snotty and rude preteen. As I gave them the 1st half of the tour, he constantly remarked on how unscary everything was and how lame we all were. Didn’t think much of it. We did our job and were glad when he finally left.

About an hour passes and the same kids come in, but with a posse of his preteen companions. We waited for more people to arrive to fill the group. Again he ran his mouth about how lame this place was.

But now he has an audience. Now he’s trying to egg us on. He tells me that this place is a joke, how it’s not scary and all. I said, “well, you paid for another ticket so that’s on you this time.” Then he begins to insult us personally, starting with me. Okay, whatever. Then he called the girl I like really harsh names. That’s when I got p*ssed. Before we began, I called everyone in. I whisper to them all, “level 5.” Level 5 is the highest intensity, reserved for adults or really intense teens. Normally, putting preteens through that would be out of the question. Level 3 should be their tier, but most of them already heard this kid insult everyone.

They were in.

We set everything up for level 5 and we all get to our stage 1 stations on the bottom floor and stairway to the theater room above. It starts off like normal and I let him insult the cheap props and me, where I send him to the magician, as per level 1 protocol. Once they leave there, I direct them to follow me but get grabbed by my friend dressed in a black cloak and brandishing a large knife. I screamed in terror as he yanked me away from their sight and locked the door. I let out bloodcurdling screams and begged for help as he pretended to stab me to death. I snuck around the back to get in the theater room to hide for stage 2.

The now freaked out kids and other disturbed adults make their way through a maze in the center of the room, now more difficult to navigate through without a tour guide. My friends all knocked over items around them and moved parts of the maze, confusing them further. After what seemed like several minutes, they made their way out and sped towards the staircase. As they all stood on those stairs, my friend in the black cloak emerged at the bottom of the staircase with his knife hitting the metal railing menacingly. They all screamed and ran into the theater room converted into a graveyard. For level 5, we also turned on a smoke machine to cover the floor in smoke and lay hidden underneath several props.

As they passed by, we jutted our arms outward at them, groaning and screaming at them as all good zombies do. I alone got up as they looked at my now bloodied reanimated corpse and chased them down the “graveyard.” Another zombie blocked the exit, making the only escape the barbershop room. That place was genuinely creepy already so we just threw a clown barber slitting open his client’s throat on the barber chair. He turned to them and said, “Who’s up NEXT???” They bolted right out of there and were headed towards the end of the exhibit. The animatronic witch that’s there for every level jumped out and gave its lame cackel. They looked at it for enough time for girl that I liked to creep up behind them in an Amish looking outfit, pigtails, and a powdered white face.

She whispered into the twerp’s ear, “Yeeeesssss. This SKIN will do NICELY.” He freaked out and yelled *** as loud as his squeaker voice could permit.

After calming down themselves, his friends laughed at him for screaming the most and asking where all that big talk went. He tried to save face and made fun of the exhibit and us again, but it was already too late. His friends knew he was a **** and there was nothing he could do about it. We poorly hid our dubious smirks and said to have a great rest of their day. We were all pretty proud of ourselves for sticking up for each other and traumatizing a group of kids in the process.” Not_A_Robot24X9

4. Date Me For Almost A Decade, Break up Then Follow Me? I’ll Get The Cops On My Side To Help

“I dated a girl for 8 years.

I was sure she was the one. everything was great until about the 7th year.

She was an overachiever and determined to impress her new employer, which ultimately resulted in an addiction to prescription meds. She went from being relatively conservative to ****** wild in a matter of weeks. Her behavior was increasingly erratic, and before long it became clear she was beyond the point of no return, with respect to the fidelity of our relationship.

Even though she was not on great terms with her family, she decided to go ahead and travel out of state to an annual family gathering. I knew something was up. She had made plans to reconnect with an old friend who would be attending the gathering.

she insisted this was mere happenstance, but it was no secret they shared a relatively intimate history. First kiss, everything.

The morning she left, I asked her if we should end the relationship. she assured me everything was fine and boarded her plane. I didn’t hear from her for several days. At that point, I knew we were done…it hurt, but I was prepared to accept reality and move forward. since she wasn’t answering her phone, I sent her a simple email, asking her to acknowledge what was plainly obvious. she responded right away and successfully Jedi mind-f*cked me into believing all was well. she was quite adamant.

the moment she walked through our front door, she ended the relationship. she left our house and went straight to court.

within a couple of hours, she had what she wanted. using falsified evidence, she convinced a judge I threatened to kill her. she deceived me for the singular purpose of buying time in order to use the legal system to take possession of our two dogs.

I ****** lost it. **** hath no fury scorned. I immediately got to work. Later that night, I found a way to access her encrypted iPhone backup file that was stored on iTunes and began to dig through it, convinced I would find something useful.. and boy did I..

To my delight, I learned that her best friend/coworker was ****** the president of their company. this dirty **** had been encouraging my ex to use ***** and screw me over, and the president was a ****** bag, fraud of a family man.

*** ’em all. they were all going down.

I harvested an incredible amount of information from her phone. after making sure it was well organized, I anonymously sent it all to her company’s HR manager. ***. hit. the ******. fan. it was glorious.

The day after she returned, I hear a knock at my door. She had come with two police officers. I had no idea what was going on. and to make matters worse, I had just taken a fat bong hit. I ran to my bedroom and hid the evidence. About a minute later my phone rang. It was her. She said she wanted the dogs. The cops were brought along in order to serve me with the order of protection.

There was no ****** way I was going to open that door. I crept into the garage and heard her telling the cops I’m a drug addict. “Search the house! You’ll find illegal plants!” she said. I was livid. “Leave now!” I yelled through the closed garage door. I was prepared to have a Waco, texas style standoff.

My phone rang again. it was one of the police officers. I told him I wasn’t going to open the door. he didn’t argue the point and informed my ex that this was a matter for the courts. in spite of her accusations, they couldn’t kick the door down and arrest me. so off they went. as soon as they were gone, her tears dried up.

my phone rang again. in a low and sinister voice she said “I will find a way to bring you down.”

I was not interested in giving her the opportunity, so that night I packed my van. I was going to drive back home to Washington state the following morning. but 1,500 soul-crushing miles stood in my way. I needed to get the **** out of there, but I was hurting pretty bad. It’s hard to explain. I felt paralyzed with grief.

Instead of leaving, I took a picture of my overly stuffed van and sent it to her with a brief text–something like “finally ****** out of here.” 90 minutes later, I sent her a cropped screenshot of google street view approximately 90 miles down the road with a similar text.

Within an hour, I heard a sound at my front door. apparently her parents had a key to my house. the house that I owned.. those ******.. instead of letting them waltz in, I yelled through the door “what the **** are you doing?” I had never seen those old ******** move so quickly. They ran to their car and got the **** out of there.

My turn to call the cops… within a short time, two police officers were in front of my house. I told the young one what had transpired over the last several weeks. the older officer didn’t say a word. he just meandered around my front yard–poked his head in my garage…

When I finished what I had to say, the older officer came up to me and said, I *** you not, “buddy.. women are evil.” They hung out for about 15 minutes.

this may sound corny, but we just talked about life.

A couple of days later I get a call from a blocked number.

“****o?”

“BumbleBTuna?”

“The one and only.”

“This is Officer Young. She is on her way to your house to serve you papers. she will be there in 15 minutes.”

“Holy ***. Thank you.”

I was 20 minutes away from home. luckily, I had my dogs with me. I called a friend and had her meet me at a gas station by my house. my dogs got in her car, and I raced home. to my surprise, I managed to do all of this before she got there with a couple of minutes to spare.

Officer old and young pulled into my driveway. “we wanted to make sure we were the ones to serve the order of protection.” we went inside the house and began going over the paperwork.

“It says here you have to turn over two labrador retrievers.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do that. I just gave my dogs away.”

“I see. that means they’re no longer a part of this. but you do have to leave your house for a period of 24 hours. she will have possession during that time.”

I was afraid she would try to plant some crazy drug-related *** while she had the chance, so my new officer friends walked around my house with me for about two minutes and made a show of looking in cabinets and closets. they said if she planted anything, they would vouch for me.

as I pulled away, my phone rang. once again, the number was blocked.

“Hello?”

“BumbleBTuna.. her dad is following you.”

“What!? Is that ****** legal?”

“BumbleBTuna… her dad… is following you…”

I immediately realized he was telling me this in case I was on my way to grab the dogs.

I got off the phone and checked into a hotel. around 3 am, I went to my friend’s house who had my dogs. I was pretty paranoid, so I drove down lots of weird roads to make sure I wasn’t being followed. about an hour later I had my dogs. we got in the van and drove to Washington.

I made it home safe, but I had one more thing to do. when she was 14, she filmed her mom’s boyfriend watching her shower. She noticed the door was opened ever so slightly a few times, so she hid a camera and managed to catch him in the act. She took the videotape to school and showed it to her boyfriend. Her boyfriend idolized this guy for some reason, so he destroyed the tape.

When she got home, she told her mom what had happened. Her mom decided not to call the police and scheduled an appointment with their family counselor. Upon hearing this, the counselor called the police. “Tom” was eventually convicted of 2nd-degree child voyeurism, but tom was no dummy. He found that if he could prove his actions were not ******** motivated, he would do 6 months in county instead of time in prison.

When he was released, he wasn’t allowed to rejoin the family right away, but her mom had grown accustomed to Tom’s wealth, so she did everything in her power to help him. They got married soon after. They managed to keep this dirty little secret from the rest of the family for quite a few years.. until I told them.

Curtsy.” BumbleBTuna

3. Two Terrible Colleagues Try To Bring Me Down But Can’t When I Expose Them

“So a lot of backstories to appreciate this one. I use to work in another company where I worked with 2 of the worst women I ever met in my life: A manager (let’s call her Erin) and a Senior (let’s call her Jenny).

Erin’s Backstory: Erin is/was a 40-year-old divorced woman who just entered a second marriage to a dude she was always b*tching about leaving. Literally, once a week I would hear talk about how he’s an ***** and she was going to move out. Erin was the office type of person who was nice to your face but would stab you in the back at first chance to make herself look better (or think it would get her ahead).

Literally, not only did she do this to me but to peers at her level or above thinking it would make her look better. Real two-faced ***.

Jenny’s Backstory: Another 40-year-old divorced woman, but the trainwreck that almost everyone I worked with was terrified of becoming one day. She had the mentality and maturity level of a 14-year-old suburban spoiled rich princess (which made no sense as she was never rich, nor grew up in a very nice suburban area). Jenny got married, never cooked, cleaned, contributed to bills, or even respect her partner’s ****** desires. Her husband did everything and never complained. And then one day she just decided she didn’t want to be married anymore (literally. That’s it. She just didn’t want to be married).

Well, ever since she started this job, turns out her ex got remarried, had a kid, and was genuinely happy (and goshdarnit, he deserved it). Jenny would check his Facebook weekly and complain to other women in the office that she was p*ssed he was happy and she was alone and miserable. She genuinely believed their places should have been switched (OH, *** YOU). Jenny also “suffered” from anxiety and depression apparently that made people think she was suicidal. Turns out she was just very good at seeking attention. She basically would hold the women at work hostage to go out with her, saying she had no friends outside of work (true). What’s more, if Jenny was alone and single, nobody else could have someone.

Jenny cockblocked me on numerous occasions when we went out for team happy hours and found it hilarious (but would always deny it later on). Nope, if she was alone, single and miserable, EVERYONE HAD TO BE.

My story: So I’m a dude that had started this job initially very happy. After working during the stock market crashes in a retirement call center, I was very happy to be in an analytical role and away from phones (and for the same company no less!). Enter a month into my new job, and I quickly realized that my boss at the time was literally the worst boss I ever had in my life. Erin was her best friend, and Jenny worked under Erin on her team.

Trying to keep this short, Erin tried to get me royally ***ed with my company and job one month in (I came in late one day because my alarm didn’t go off and I wasn’t upfront with what time I came in. Why does it matter? I could work later in the day and make up the time in the afternoon). Because Erin was such a ***, she prevented me getting a raise that year and ended up taking 25% of my annual bonus as well (she could only do that much because the other 75% I was in my previous job under one of my best managers ever who LOVED me and prevented her from impacting it. In fact, at the end of my time with my company I saw the email because my boss at the time left it out in the open by accident).

Anyway, given that Erin wasn’t even my manager, I wasn’t happy with her. Well luckily, my department got split up and I was taken to a new team, new manager, and a completely different office location than Erin and Jenny. Great, I won’t have to deal with them again. Or so I thought.

1.5 years later, my company had gone through some really terrible times due to the recession and a reorganization happened: I was being put back on the same team as Erin and Jenny. ***. When I met my new boss of that team, he asked if I had any concerns. I explained to him my history with Erin (and Jenny due to some other stuff I won’t go into), and he told me not to worry because he hates dealing with *******.

This was a conversation that happened right after my first day on the new team when Erin and Jenny both tried to get me in trouble immediately because I didn’t stay in that office location on my first day (because I had to do work elsewhere). So, yeah, it wasn’t hard to convince him that Erin and Jenny liked to start ***. Wouldn’t you know, after the conversation Erin and Jenny started trying to be nice to me! I didn’t budge for the first 2 weeks: I stayed professional and only talked about work and ignored all socializing.

Afterward, as I remembered my new boss hated *******, I decided to bury the hatchet and I opened up little by little to Erin and Jenny (How was your weekend? Anything good for lunch? etc.).

I actually started bonding with them a bit. For some reason a few months in, Erin tried to explain that the whole bonus/raise prevention thing was my first boss’s fault, not hers. Whatever I told her we either bury the hatchet and move on or get stuck up on that moment forever. I actually forgave her. And for a while, things were good.

Now, this is where Jenny started really ****** with the new status quo. Jenny was always complaining about how she was up to her ears in work and didn’t know how she was going to finish. Well, being I was 2-2.5 years into this job, I really wanted to get promoted and I saw an opportunity: I could learn how to do a Senior’s work, get the experience, and hopefully be promoted! So, I volunteered to help her with her work.

Erin and my boss both warned me not to do Jenny’s work, but it always came down to either missing the deadline or helping her, and they preferred I helped her. I did this for almost a year until I realized why Erin was always warning me: Jenny was just giving me all her work so she could surf eBay, Facebook, and text/call her friends and family. I did both my and Jenny’s job for a year so she could slack off.

***. No.

I stopped helping her altogether. This drove Jenny nuts. Her response was to actually try and prevent me from doing my work (schedule meetings for us and a client and not telling me when/where they were, not giving me documents I needed to do my job, etc.).

My boss quickly shot her down because she can’t *** with my work. What ended up happening was Jenny would get close to her deadline, she would cry to my boss that she had too much to do (and her anxiety and depression and *******) and the work ended up being redistributed to my entire team instead of just me. Now Erin was p*ssed. This started a daily routine of sh*ttalking in my team about Jenny.

Cut to 6 months in the future. My team got assigned to a new boss (my old boss actually sucked terribly at his job and ended up being a ******). Erin got promoted to being the team manager again (although our boss was really in charge) and the only other coworker I had at my level ended up getting promoted to senior.

I did my senior’s AND my own work for a year and I got overlooked for a promotion? ***. That.

I met with the new boss and explained my story. He understood where I was coming from, already had issues with Jenny, and proposed to me the option to take leadership of a project that would be 100% mine. Erin and everyone else on my team would be working on a project I had no part of, and I would run my project on my own with a little help from a new coworker they would hire (a sweet, young new girl who was eager to help out). If I performed well, I would be promoted. PERFECT!

New girl signs on, I train her a bit, and we work really well together.

She sat in the cubicle right behind me, and Jenny was diagonally behind to my left (next to the new girl). Thing is, Jenny really stepped up her annoyance in the office and was talking on her cellphone and texting much more than usual. It got so bad, that even people in other departments around us started complaining to management (we were in the center of an office surrounded by 50 people from various departments). Jenny got so bad that whenever I and the new girl tried to talk, she would just talk louder on the phone and ignored any requests to keep it down. So, the new girl and I just started instant messaging with each other. It was fun, mostly work-related, and even the non-work stuff was a nice distraction from listening to Jenny’s *******.

Finally, the day came where Erin and my boss took Jenny aside for a meeting to complain about the cell phone and slacking. Everyone knew about it (partly because Erin flat out told us they were going to do that. Not very smart for a manager but whatever). I didn’t really care because I just wanted to focus on my own work, but I was happy that it was FINALLY getting addressed.

The next morning, Erin worked from home. I get an email from her: “MC2157, it’s been brought to my attention that you have been instant messaging the new girl. You are to stop this IMMEDIATELY as it’s become very distracting for people in the area.”

What. The. ***?

I printed out the email and brought it to my boss.

I was genuinely confused because I thought I was doing well, I didn’t even understand the context of the email. My boss facepalms and tells me the truth: When he and Erin had the meeting with Jenny and told her to STOP texting, her response was to yell out “Well, MC2157 and the new girl are always instant messaging each other and that’s distracting to me.” He told me that he was trying really hard not to laugh at her and maintain a straight face, but that they would talk to me about it. His plan was to tell me and laugh it off as ridiculous because typing on a keyboard of any kind is a work-related noise – be it for word processing or instant messaging, it’s no different.

Apparently, Erin didn’t understand and sent me a written email that could easily be interpreted as a written warning for my performance.

At this point, I had it. I told him I couldn’t do this anymore. I’m now working on my own separate project, and somehow Jenny is still trying to mess with my work. I told him I need him and Erin to solve the problem of Jenny (and Erin’s improper management), or I can’t work on this team anymore. Be it another department or another company, I can’t do this anymore.

My boss was apologetic. He begged me to please be patient, he had a plan for Jenny and that he understood the problem really wasn’t me. He asked me to please talk to Erin the next morning and tell her the same.

So I did. I booked a conference room and told Erin that I understood the origin of the email, I was going to dismiss it as this is not a real concern for the department, and that I was going to continue with my methods for dealing with Jenny: I would only talk to Jenny if it was related to work, not socialize in any way as it’s clear that she’s toxic to my work environment, and that I expect her not to prevent or mess with my work anymore.

Erin lost it. “No, you will not dismiss this email and warning and if you want a good score on your annual evaluation for teamwork, you WILL talk to Jenny!!”

“…ok, let me read between the lines here, you’re telling me if I want a good evaluation I have to socialize with her?”

“No no no,” she said coyly, “I’m saying you should ‘only talk to her for work'”

“And how is that different from what I just told you?”

“Oh, I must have ‘misunderstood you,’ but YOU’RE NOT DISMISSING THIS EMAIL.

I’m not going to be accused of showing favoritism!”

Ok, I’m not going to try and process dumb **** speak. She just blackmailed me and I’m not taking it. I tell her the same thing I told my boss: She needs to solve the Jenny problem or I don’t want to be on the team anymore.

“FINE! LEAVE! WE’RE not going to help you! Our boss isn’t going to help you! Get out if you want!”

Well, totally opposite of what your boss said, but fine. That night I applied for another position at another company. Got called to make an interview the next day and met a few days later. I got an offer the same day.

Tuesday of that week, I was asked to take a drug test that afternoon so they could give me an offer letter and I could put in my 2 weeks (I told them I would give my company 3 weeks because I wanted to actually take my remaining 1 week of vacation and take a week off between jobs).

That morning, Jenny sent out a meeting invite for the project the rest of the team was working on for that afternoon. I told Erin that I really needed to take care of something personal that afternoon and would need to take a half-day. She said it was fine.

I go, take my drug test, get my pass results 2 days later, and that Friday I come into work ready to give my notice to my boss. Turns out he was remote that day, so I set up a teleconference to tell him that day. He tells me I need to tell Erin. Ok, fine. I pull Erin aside and tell her. She seems ecstatic for me. Well, with the good news in, I take my hour lunch break as it’s now 12:30 and Erin, the new girl and I have a meeting at 1:30 with another coworker about the project I was working on and now handing off to the new girl.

I come back at 1:15 and go to Erin’s desk. “Ok, we ready to go prep for the meeting?”

Erin is p*ssed.

“Did you do the report Jenny asked you for that was due today? NO. YOU DIDN’T.”

I’m genuinely confused.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what report you’re talking about, can you-”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I WANT TO HEAR MC2157”

Erin is yelling loud enough for the entire office to hear her.

“Erin, please calm down. I honestly don’t know what you’re referring to, can you please explain?”

“JENNY ASSIGNED ALL OF US REPORTS TO DO TUESDAY, YOU DIDN’T DO IT.”

“…That’s because I was never assigned a report.”

“YES YOU WERE, AT THE MEETING!”

“Erin, I wasn’t at the meeting. Remember? I took a half-day.”

“YOU WERE ASSIGNED IN THE INVITE YOUR REPORT (no I wasn’t.

The invite literally only contained the date, time, and attendees of the meeting). YOU KNOW MC, EVER SINCE YOU GAVE YOUR 2 WEEK NOTICE YOU’RE ACTING LIKE YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT THE WORK!”

“…Erin, I gave you my 2-week notice 50 minutes ago, and 45 minutes of that was my lunch break.”

Erin is now hysterically angry. She’s yelling loud enough for anyone and everyone to hear, and I’m doing my best to calm her down and telling her I’ll do whatever work I need to but we need to get to our meeting. Erin continues yelling at me the entire walk to the conference room, with more and more coworkers staring at this spectacle along the way. The entire time, I remain with a professional tone and volume.

“Erin, I’ll do the work, I don’t care how long it’ll take me, you need to calm down.” No effect. Erin literally yelled at me until we got to the doorway of the conference room, where our coworker stared at us with bug eyes and a pale face of fear.

Erin goes full crazy **** and does a complete 180 “Hi! How are you?” in front of her with a *** eater grin from ear to ear. The new girl and I sit next to each other and try to ignore this as my coworker is clearly taken off guard.

My coworker begins to ask me questions about the project. I begin to answer her, only to hear Erin immediately go “No no no, MC, that’s not the entire project.

Clearly it’s bigger than that hahaha.”

Ok ****, I had it.

“You’re correct, Erin, that’s not the whole project. I was beginning to tell her about that part when you interrupted me.”

Erin locks eyes on me with a death glare. I return the same. You can literally feel the heat and electricity bouncing off us. New girl and coworker look at each other in bug-eyed pale faces with every bit of an “OH ***” fear moment.

Erin takes over the meeting. Fine, I mentally tune out. It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t’ say anything until about 10 minutes later when Erin asks something and I just respond “I’m sorry, what was the question?” Erin laughs it off and is gripping her hand tight in how p*ssed she is.

A few minutes later, the meeting is over and she crazy **** says politely to me, “Oh MC, stay here a few more minutes.”

“Sure, Erin! Hey New Girl, may you please close the door behind you?”

Door closes. Erin and I are now death-staring each other.

Erin begins to berate me saying that my attitude is unacceptable and thatI’m going to do the job while I’m still there (I was planning to, ****). I tell her to look at herself first before saying anything to me. Her behavior has been atrocious and she needs to stop that immediately.

Erin tells me that if I tell anyone what she did, she’ll tell our boss and HR.

You dumb, ******, ***. I’m a man with nothing left to lose.

I’m on my way out. You’re trying to back me into a corner and in your own dumb **** speak way, you gave me the idea of how I can royally *** you before I leave.

I called our boss and told him what happened, and then immediately opened an HR case. See, Erin? She wanted to get promoted to the next level in my company (becoming a manager didn’t actually move her up, just gave her more responsibility with no pay raise). I stayed a little late that afternoon doing this report that had nothing to do with me (it was the project I wasn’t even on).

I came on Monday morning not sure what to do. I had bought my boss a bottle of wine as a thank you that I was going to give him Friday when I gave my notice.

Now it was just a very odd gesture to give him given the situation. He pulled me aside to a conference room, and what happened next was the culmination of 4 years of *******, abuse, and blackmail all in the greatest justice ***** I ever experienced in my life.

My boss told me he didn’t want to make me any more uncomfortable given the HR situation, so that morning would be my official last day in the office. They would pay me my remaining two weeks as normal, plus my extra week of vacation time. I was getting 3 weeks of paid vacation before my next job because HR was terrified about what I’d do about the situation. Holy. ***. I accepted.

All I had to do was ******* a few hours in the office that morning. During which time, Jenny started crying for some reason and walked out with Erin. Whatever, I could not give less a *** than I did that morning. My boss walked me out, and I was on vacation.

Epilogue: Turns out that was also Jenny’s last day. My coworkers told me an announcement went out that she “decided to pursue another opportunity and left immediately.” *******. She got fired. Erin, I believe still works there, but she was denied any upward movement and had a huge HR case against her. I started at my new company and worked for the best manager of my life and happier than I’ve ever been professionally.

I never even wanted revenge. All I wanted was a happy life. In the end, I was forced to take revenge and got a happy life. And none of it was my fault.” [deleted]

2. Tell Me I Don’t Know What I’m Doing? I Know Exactly What I’m Doing And I’ll Do It To You

“Way back in the 90s, I was doing what all lazy, unintelligent youths do when they don’t want to do A-level courses at college. I did a “modern apprenticeship”. It had 4 days a week in an office, and 1 day in college. Part of the college course was “Information and Communications Technology”. I was pretty good at that part, and didn’t feel like sleeping like I did when it was “Finance and Accounting”.

Anyhow… we had a small network of Windows 3.1 PCs and Novell NetWare file server. And we would use this stuff for ICT lesson exercises and do studying for other bits of our course.

I’m generally a nice and friendly person, and would usually help my fellow students when they got stuck on some part of an exercise or whatever. Most people were grateful for the help. Except for Ashley.

In one lesson, Ashley’s intellect was not up to the task of entering names in a spreadsheet and then doing a “mail merge”. I offered to help, and he gladly accepted. But I couldn’t rescue this ***y spreadsheet. He’d put everything in the wrong place. And I was not going to sit there moving things around for him or being a data entry clerk.

So I told him the spreadsheet needed to be put right or it would never work.

“You think you know this computer stuff, but look, you don’t know ***! You’re not clever; you’re **** thick and you don’t even know it.”

“Well, I got further with it than you did.”

“Yeah? You’re so smart but you won’t fix mine?”

“Mine works.”

“You haven’t got a **** clue what you’re doing. You’re wasting my **** time.”

I quickly return to my desk. How could somebody be such a ***? I’m trying to help, and he goes and tries to belittle me in front of the whole class. Never mind, I figure I’ll leave it. Not much I can do, anyway. Or is there?

A few weeks later, and a few snide comments like “don’t let him touch it, he f***ed up my stuff last time”, I have found a new program called “sheep.exe”.

You run it, and a cartoon sheep runs around your screen, on top of your windows, and falls spectacularly when you close the windows from under it. Well, not that spectacular, but it was the 90s, and we couldn’t play Sonic The Hedgehog on a PC.

I send a copy to a couple of classmates, and they love it. Soon, the entire class is looking at the few PCs that have sheep running about the screen.

Ashley makes his voice heard “oi, send that to me, mate.”

“Sure, hang on a min…”

Instead of sending “sheep.exe”, I sent “sheep.bat”, which was a small batch file I hastily wrote, to move everything in his home drive (everyone’s was h:) to a folder called “gayp*rn”, and then set it as “hidden”.

I toyed briefly with the idea of just deleting everything but decided it would be best to leave myself a “no real harm done” card to play, in case I needed it.

So Ashley ran my attached batch file and… nothing happened.
Ashley then told me again about how I didn’t know what I was talking about and maybe I should just f*** off and die.

I told him it worked for everyone else I sent it to, maybe he was doing it wrong. So he spent a fair while trying to find different ways to double click on the attachment, hoping he might be treated to a sheep if he just clicked the right way this time.

So, anyway, I decided to send him the “real” sheep program, and he got his sheep.

He didn’t notice his missing files until right at the end of the lesson.
He came to ask me about his files, his face is stricken with panic.

“F*** man, my **** stuff has all gone!”

“No way! Did you delete it by accident or something?”

“I didn’t touch it. It’s all gone! Did that sheep thing delete your files?”

I open my “H” drive.

“Nope, mine are all there. Nobody else seems to be missing anything. Must be just you.”

“You’re **** useless. Where are my files?”

And I gave him a cold stare and said:
“DON’T. ASK. ME. I HAVEN’T GOT A ****** CLUE WHAT I’M DOING. Remember?”

To this day, I have no idea if he ever found his files or had to redo a lot of homework.

I like to think that he at least was challenged once about the existence of a hidden folder in his home drive called “gayp*rn.” perpetual_C000009A

1. Try To Scam Me? I’ll Flip The Script And Scam You!

“I operate a vast community dedicated to fighting phone scammers and cybercriminals. Most of us are engaged in the art of “scambaiting” which means acting to be the victim to waste a scammers time for sometimes well over a couple of hours. We run autodialers to keep their line occupied, gain intel on them to report to the proper authorities (ISP, web hosts, cybercrime units, and police). We let them in virtual computers which act as safe environments so they can’t harm our equipment. This next story was a remarkable call….

So I was calling scammers on my stream, as I usually do.

And I was on the phone with a Microsoft scammer who I kept going for let’s say 30 minutes.

It all started by me setting up a fake virus pop-up on my Virtual Machine. One of these annoying pop-ups you cant close, that claim you have a malicious virus on your computer and you must dial “Microsoft” immediately. Often accompanied by the sound coming from your speakers saying “Critical alert from Microsoft.” Obviously, when you call this number, you don’t get Microsoft on the phone, but a person with a (usually) Indian accent.

I called the number and got on the line with a “technician” who I told about the “alert notification” on my screen. He told me my computer got heavily infected and made me press the windows key + R (as in Romeo).

He then guided me to fastsupport.com, as scammers often do to get control over the computer. !!NEVER EVER FOLLOW THESE STEPS PROVIDED BY SUCH SCAMMERS!!

Once he got ahold of my computer, he opened up the CMD prompt and wrote cd… cd… NETSTAT to show the list of active connections. He immediately told me the “foreign connections” are the hackers and we must secure my computer. The next step of the scammer was to open MSINFO32 from the Runbox to see if my PC is a ‘Virtual Machine.’ My VM is stealthed out, meaning we changed all the obvious values that would give it away. The scammer proceeded with Run > MSCONFIG > Services, and claimed that all my services are stopped and must be activated… The reality is that even a fresh installed Windows computer has stopped services, it means absolutely nothing.

These tricks are meant to scare less tech-savvy people and the elderly into paying money to them.

A couple of scam tricks later, like event viewer, and tree command, he told me there would be a “one-time fixation fee” He opened up a notepad, and wrote what work had to be done on the computer… Reinstall the drivers… get the advanced security… restart the stopped services… get the firewall…. He wanted me to type my credit card in the notepad, so i put in a bunch of false information. After a while, he told me the card declined, and I confronted him for being a dirty scammer.

From this point on its getting interesting!

He started bragging about how much money he earns by scamming “the people”.

I got a funny idea involving some social engineering and started talking back to him that I earn more. I told the scammer I’m a Russian cybercriminal that does ransomware and that unlike him I don’t have to pick up the phone to get paid. Curious as those little rascals are, he got interested and started asking stuff about this.

I told him he could connect to my other Virtual Machine, on which I have a bunch of malware, trojans, and viruses for security testing. He agreed and connected to said machine. Once he was connected I showed him how I executed ‘wannacry’ on my VM. Generating a couple of files, like the one that gives the actual ransom note. I opened that to him and told him the yellow file is the infection, and the .exe is the generator.

I told him by opening the generator you can generate your own version of it, with your own Bitcoin address in it. (bitcoin is often used to receive the ransom cash in).

I send the file over to his PC, and he couldn’t get it to work. I offered him I could help him do it. The fool trusted me and let me connect to his work laptop he uses to connect the “customer”( read victim) with. I let him download Supremo Control to connect to him, as I had this on my computer already, and its the Remote application I’m the most familiar with. Once he got Supremo running he gave me the code to connect with, and next up the password.

I was surprised at this point, and a bit shaking from excitement. I’ve been trolling and fighting scammers for months, and to access one’s computer is a huge goal I was always hoping to reach. Since I was connected to his PC from out of my VM it was really slow. The file also didn’t wanna execute on his computer firstly, so I resend it to him.

Once more he failed to open this file, my mind was racing at this point… Can I SYSKEY his laptop in front of his eyes? Can I even manage to open the runbox fast enough? Everything I tried through the connection was so slow, I really had no other option than to think real hard and keeping my act together.

So I told him some info about “getting the payment” from “the customer” trough bitcoin. I recommended him blockchain, told him he should make an account so he could add the address in “my generator” as soon as we got it to work… My distraction and keeping the act up paid off, we managed to turn his malware bytes off that seemed to block the file. Which I hadn’t seen operating in the excitement. Once more I transferred wannacry.exe to him and he clicked on it…… Nothing….. At this point, I realized he didn’t double click and told him to double click it. He did, I quickly opened the second yellow file that then encrypts all of the pc.

I started laughing and saying his pc is now f*cked up.

He then silently said he knew I was doing this, and it’s not his computer… Which was clearly a lie, since that’s what all scammers say when we expose them. I think out of humiliation he denied it.

So there we have it, my second big REVENGE on a scammer that stands apart from all the normal calls I do to waste their time.”[deleted]

There are stories in here that deserve a round of applause, no doubt! Got any tall tales of your own to share? Tell us everything!