People Share Their Deliciously Sweet Revenge Stories

The other day I was at a take-out spot, waiting in line with a couple of people in front of me but with nobody else behind me. When it was finally my turn, some guy came out of nowhere, cut me off, and started placing his order. I was furious. Fortunately, the guy behind the counter saw this whole thing happen and he told the jerk to wait his turn. But what if he didn’t see this? What if he didn’t call him out? What would I have done? Would I have simply sucked it up and allowed it to happen, or would the gears of vengeance start turning inside my head? Probably the former. But that’s no fun. There’s just something about revenge that is so very deliciously sweet and, as it turns out, very entertaining. After all, that’s why you’re here: stories of deliciously sweet revenge. And by golly, they do not disappoint.

17. Don’t Want To Be Reasonable? Watch Your Event Go Under

“I worked for an events hire company. We supplied everything from AV to display stands, fencing, staging, etc.

So I worked with an organizer that was looking to host a Beer & Wine festival.

We had multiple meetings and provided far, far too many quotes and prices, but eventually, it paid off and she signed off to work with us!

Fast forward about 2 weeks later, I have had little contact from her which was very unusual. Out of the blue, she emails me saying that they had found a cheaper supplier (almost half the price!) and that we were ripping her off. If we didn’t void the contract and return the deposit, she would take legal action. Our prices were very fair and competitive with our main competition, so this really didn’t make sense at all as to why it would be so insanely cheap.
I’ve has this happen before and in my experience, it’s just best to let these organizers go, rip up the contract and return the deposit.

If you force them to work with you, it becomes an absolute nightmare and just isn’t worth it in the long run as you work with these people for months leading up to the event.
The event was still a while away as well so I was confident I could fill in the spot with another.

Fast forward to only 3 days before the festival opens and I get a call from the organizer:

Organizer: ‘You have to help me! It’s Organizer!’
Me: ‘Uhhh sure, what’s up?’

Organizer: ‘The Supplier has arrived to install and the equipment is unusable! The marquees are ripped, displays can barely stand up, they didn’t bring any AV. It’s a disaster!’

Me: ‘Okay, so before I go back to my team, are you needing everything we quoted you, right now?’

Organizer: ‘Yes! Everything!’

I go back to my team and although we had a bit on, we agreed we could supply what she needed in time, but would naturally need to charge a premium because it was really, REALLY late and meant serious overtime.

We didn’t want to do it, but pulling her out would’ve made waves in our industry and bound to get good words in the right ears due to the festival’s size.
So I call back Organizer.
Me: ‘Organizer, I have great news! We can get down there later this afternoon and we will work non stop over the next 2 days to get this done for you.’

Organizer: ‘You are a lifesaver! Thank you all so much!’

Me: ‘Now we will require 90% upfront payment and you can pay the remaining 10% after the install is complete. I will send you an invoice now, but please know the invoice will be a larger amount than before (approx 30% more due to overtime and just being late.

Pretty standard for an event this size).’

Organizer: ‘But we had a contract. We have a set amount. You need to honor that.’
Me: ‘You made us rip it up and threaten a lawsuit if we made you stick to it. Those are the prices. No other company in this city would be able to deliver what you are asking this late in the game. The price is the price, you can take it or leave it.’

Organizer: ‘THIS IS CRAZY! WE HAD A CONTRACT!’ *throws some nasty words my way or how we are useless and going to get sued*

Me: ‘You have 2 hours to let me know if you want to move ahead, otherwise the stock will not be available. Goodbye.’

Long story short.

She never called back and went ahead with the other supplier. The festival was a disaster. She had also charged independent mobile food vendors and retailers to be at this festival and charged them a premium for each spot.
The vendors constantly lost power, water and had 0 support during the show. So they naturally took her to court for their money back as they lost money attending the festival. She had to pay back all the businesses that had purchased a spot at the festival through a court order and lost her business. Then she tried to sue us and blame us for the whole catastrophe, but it didn’t go far.

Before you say it’s sad she lost her lively hood, firstly, she should have canned that event there and then.

It doesn’t take an organizer to see this was in no way going to be successful. Secondly, we found out through industry people that she has done this before, but got away with it. So eff her. She tried to personally sue me as well. Which didn’t go far either, but still wasted a lot of my time.’ Source
16. Rip Off The Intern Turned Programmer? Better Read The Fine Print First

“A couple of years ago when I was 18, I got my degree in game development. It’s a 4-year track with the last year being 4 months internship and 4 months to work on a ‘test of skill.’ This is a project that you can think up yourself to prove that you’re capable of game development.

I had my internship at a very small game studio run by two women, named B and C. They both specialized in 3D model making and 2D art (textures, graphics, that sorta stuff). Neither of them was a programmer so they got interns to program stuff for them. I was disappointed as I had no experienced programmer to learn from or to guide me. But this was my only option since I started looking for an internship too late. B and C were abusive and condescending in their language use. I didn’t stand up for myself much. I was always a fat nerd and had no self-confidence coming out of high school or college. What WAS cool is that they were located in an incubator, which is like a large office building that rents desks for €50 a month instead of floors.

Great for start-ups and single-person companies. As the cherry on top, it was also an incubator that specialized in game companies. So lots of contacts and opportunities to meet people in the industry.
I had fun there, at first. They already started on a project and I asked them what system they wanted me to make (like inventory, menus or gameplay elements). They had an idea of what they wanted. It was a game for kids that used augmented reality (AR).

AR is quite difficult to make, AND they didn’t want to use APIs from companies that had already made the AR system because that would cost too much money. So for 3 out of the 4 months, I was there I build my own AR system.

It was really tough and I had no help (other than Stack Overflow <3), because the other developers there had their own stuff to work on. The best way to learn programming is to be good with Google and just jump in the deep end and figure it all out. I finished the AR system that worked with 2D image recognition. Perfect for what they wanted. But it turned out they didn't have a game design document, which is a plan of the sorts of the stuff you want in your game. They also didn't have a 'to do' wall or anything. So I spend my last month making inventory systems and stuff that was always not the way they wanted after all.

They just said we need an inventory system but didn’t know what it all had to do. So basically my time was wasted there.
Skip forward 5 months. I got my degree and decided I wanted to check out the industry some more. I got all my savings out and decided I could spend a year making games and maybe it would lead to something. So I rented a desk at the incubator and thought about what game I was gonna make.

B and C believed that if you are technical, you’re not creative. They saw programmers like tools used to achieve their vision. Two things annoying about that: 1) just cause I like programming doesn’t mean I’m incapable of imagining worlds and stories, and 2) game developers and game designers need each other.

Two disciplines of equal importance that make a game work. So this is what happened when they approached me:
B: ‘Hey OP, are you busy?’

Me: ‘I’m just thinking what kinda game I wanna make.’

B: ‘C! Come over he’s not busy.’

C: ‘Hi OP, could you help us out with something?’

Me: ‘Uh ye sure what can I do for you?’

B: ‘We need you to make a menu for Unity (the engine I was working in) for the AR system you made.’

Now I’ll admit. The AR system was not the easiest to work with. It had a lot of settings and a series of steps needed to make it work with an image. And they wanted me to simplify it, even though I had made an extensive manual on how to make it work.

But I learned so much in those 8 months and was positive I could improve the system a lot, which was good cause the current code belonged to them. But I could use the same architecture of code and rework it to make it mine.
Me: ‘Alright, I guess I can rework system and make it more user-friendly.’

C: ‘Nice let us know when you’re finished.’

I spend about a month making my AR system better and the finished system shared only ~10% code with the old system. I told them I was finished and showed it off.
Me: ‘This 2.0 version had better tracking in all light conditions, it can cover more angles, needs less detail and now has a very user-friendly user interface along with tooltips.’

What I also did is change the standard script Unity gives you when you make a new script.

I put MY name and copyright in the code so I could prove it was mine.
B and C were very happy with it and even asked me to join their project as a partner.

Me: ‘Yeah I would love to join, I’ll even give you a discount on the AR system.’

C, with a kinda smug face: ‘Yea we won’t be paying you, the code was already ours and you just improved it. Besides we didn’t sign a contract or anything. Just be happy with the opportunity we just gave you. And if you didn’t intern with us, you wouldn’t be here to begin with.’

Me: ‘Are you serious? I spent a month working on this…’

B: ‘Yeah but you’ll make plenty with the project…’
There was nothing I could do about it so I just sucked it up and agreed to join the project.

Maybe I agreed more out of FOMO rather than excitement to work with them. I did learn a lesson though: ALWAYS HAVE A CONTRACT. And boy, did I draw something up. For the contract, I had a right to 25% of the finished product’s income, basic stuff. But because I didn’t trust B and C and was determined not to be burned again, I drew up a general conditions contract, which is basically the policy and restrictions of working with my one-man studio. It has all the basic rights and stuff, but it also had 2 clauses that make me laugh to this day;
Any and all code developed by me belongs to me in perpetuity, and may not be copied, modified or used in any way without my express permission.

And under no condition can I be forced to release the code files. Fine on breach is €1000 per script file (the AR system had more than 20 scripts in it).

When I get fired for a shared project, I am entitled to €50 an hour I spend working on the project. No exceptions.

They signed both contracts without even reading them. And didn’t have a contract for me in return. The first contract was what bound me to the project.
And here comes the good part.
I learned pretty early on that I was just there to listen and make whatever they wanted. They did not want my input on anything. Even if they had dumb, impractical or just impossible ideas about what the game should have, I could not protest or suggest something else.

Even though I tried.

Fast forward 6 months, it’s winter now and the project is just not going very well. I constantly have to revisit finished components because they wanted more functionality in them. I was not happy and went over to their desks to complain and demand a final document I could work of off.
B and C: ‘It’s called feature creep and a real game developer should know how to deal with that.’

Me: ‘It’s not alright, I am wasting my time because you two can’t make up your minds and get a final idea in your heads.’

B and C dismissed me and later send me an email: ‘Dearest OP, we regret to inform you that our partnership is not working out and we have decided to let you go from the project.

We hope there aren’t any hard feelings.’

I was quite angry, but I remembered the clauses so at least I would get paid a lot of money.
I went over to their desks with the meanest grin on my face: ‘Hey guys I read your email. That sucks but I understand. We have different creative ideas and we’re just not on the same page.’

C: ‘We’re so happy you understand. Are you sure there are no hard feelings?’

Me: ‘No not at all, I learned a lot and had fun. I can recycle the components to make other games.’

B: ‘Just remember you can’t do anything similar to our game.’ (They referred to the competition clause in my internship contract which I apparently was still under because that project wasn’t finished).

Me: ‘OH, yeah no worries, I got something else in mind…’ After which I returned to my desk and sent them an invoice of 26 weeks 40 hours a week for €50 an hour on the project with my log to back it up. Total cost? €50,000 (around $60,000 at the time).

They freaked out. They had nowhere near this kind of money as they were both working second jobs and were both saving up wanting to start a family with their respective boyfriends.

C: ‘There is no way we’re paying this much. We understand some compensation is warranted but this is too much!’
Me: ‘I lost 6 months of income on this project and you signed these terms.’

I had a copy of the general conditions and pointed out the clauses.

Me: ‘But fine, I’ll take it to court and we’ll see what the judge has to say.’

The court proceedings took around 8 months. The judge had decided I was in the right (thanks to my logs and copyright lines in the code) but also asking for too much as it would utterly bankrupt B and C. So I would get €20.000 and be reimbursed for legal costs, totaling about €35.000. For B and C, it was a massive blow. B had to sell her car to get the money and couldn’t get a mortgage for the house she wanted to buy.
They also had to use home offices as the others working at the incubator wouldn’t even talk with them anymore since I made sure everyone there knew what happened and how they tried to screw me over.

I also told the entire story to my old teachers and no interns will be coming to them from my old college.

The last time I heard from them was a year or so later, asking me for the code I made for the project. A drive crapped out and they didn’t have backups (this shows their level of professionalism). I laughed my *** off over the phone and pointed them to the 1) clause of the general conditions. ‘You can’t claim the code, it’s in the general conditions. You can’t even work with anything I made because you don’t have my permission to use my code. If you DID, you owe me another €20.000. Tell you what though, I’ll sell it to you.’
B & C: ‘Well how much do you want?’

Me: ‘€52,000’

Silence on the other side of the phone… click.

As of now, their studio is out of business and I am to graduate next year with no study debt at all. I lost weight and have a lot more self-confidence. This story makes me feel powerful and good about myself. I stood up, and it got rewarded. Don’t mess with the fat programming nerd.” [deleted]
15. Scam My Brother Out Of $1,500? We’re Too Smart To Let You Off The Hook

“This isn’t really my story but it’s my brother’s. However, since we’re very close siblings, he asked for my help to get the upcoming revenge and this is how I know this story so well.
This happened a couple of years ago when my brother was selling his brand new laptop he bought for work shortly after he graduated college with a degree in computer sciences.

He’s very, very smart. Anyways, he posted his new laptop on ‘Offer Up’ seeing as how the company that just hired him said they’d buy him an even newer computer because every employee needs this specific one and the company provides it for them. So he gets a couple of offers. All low balling him. It’s brand new and barely used. So he’s not having it. But this one guy, we’ll call him A, doesn’t even make an offer. Just asks if my brother uses Venmo (the money exchange app). At the time, my brother and I both used it to pay each other for phone bills and whatever else someone might owe the other person. It’s pretty useful. So since we trust the app, he responds yes.

The guy says he’ll Venmo the full amount he was asking for, right then and there. This is a 2015 MacBook Pro and it’s around August of 2017. So this model is still one of the best on the market at the time. Worth almost $2,000. My brother was selling it for $1,500. To get $1,500 of the $2,000 would have been amazing for him seeing as how no one is gonna buy his laptop at full price from Offer Up. My brother is stoked. He agrees, contacts the guy on Facebook, makes the transaction and meets up with him to give the laptop to him once Venmo notified him and said, ‘A has paid you $1,500.’ My brother is satisfied and moves on with his life.

Later, over the next few days, he notices that Venmo never put the money into his bank account and the app no longer said the money was paid to him. He called Venmo to ask them why, and they said that the funds bounced! He already gave the laptop to A! My brother is furious. He went off on them about why they would even have the app say the funds are available when they don’t even know for sure. They told him, ‘it’s a family and friends app to repay for little things,’ which only p*ssed him off more because that’s just a stupid way to say, ‘sorry we lost your money we said we had for you.’ So my brother tried to fix it himself.

He tried contacting A to see if it was just a simple mistake on his end. Wouldn’t ya know? At deleted his profile on Offer Up and blocked him on FB.
Just so you know – you don’t just get a degree in computer science for free. My brother is one smart ****. He asked his coworkers at his job if they were also selling a computer they bought since the company bought them all laptops. Some were selling theirs too and he asked if they were using Offer Up. One said he was and my brother wanted to know if anyone had asked him if he used Venmo instead of making an offer. At first, he was confused as to how my brother knew that.

He said the first response he got to his post was from someone asking if he used Venmo. His coworker never heard of Venmo before and just ignored it and waited for another offer. It all started to make sense to my brother now. This guy was scamming people for their stuff (very expensive stuff) and turning around and selling it even cheaper for a profit. So my brother sets up a little trap.
Enter little bro. Me.
I just got out of the Marines and was attending college when my brother dropped this whole story on me. I was p*ssed. No one messes with my brother like that. So I’m already on board to get this dude. So the plan was simple.

I make a post on Offer Up for the same laptop at a similar price and wait for one, AND ONLY ONE, response. ‘Do you use Venmo?’

I was skeptical at first. My first thought was, there’s no way this guy is that dumb to use the same line in EVERY scam. But thank God he was! Not even 20 mins after I posted on Offer Up and There. It. Was. ‘Do you use Venmo?’ I quickly text my brother with a simple ‘got him’ and he tells me exactly what to say to set up this meeting. I get out of school and we head over to the meeting together. On the way, he’s asking me, ‘should we just teach this dude a lesson? I mean you know exactly how to mess someone up right? They taught you that in the Marines right?’ I’ve never seen my brother this p*ssed about anything before.

But I’m on board all the way and I told him, ‘Well duh. But is it worth possibly going to prison over? I mean I’ll definitely do it. But this* might bite back a*t us.’ (Someone had* to talk at least *a little sense).*
My brother *hearing that calme*d down a little a*nd thought it might* be best to get t*he police involved.* So we Google where* the nearest p*olice station is t*o the meeting p*lace and I cou*ldn’t believe *it… A lived rig*ht next to a police* station! You c*an’t make this *** up. So we went into the police station and told them the whole story, showed all the evidence we had on our phones and said we already have a meeting set up and just want to bring him in and get the property back.

They were surprisingly helpful. I didn’t think they would be that quick to help us but they didn’t even hesitate. However, they told us we couldn’t go along due to personal involvement but they will have two detectives handle it so no one gets into a physical confrontation. But we persuaded them to let us ride along so they know they got the right guy.
The revenge.

The time to meet had finally arrived. My brother is with one detective camped out up the street in a sleek black car with all tinted windows that just screamed ‘I’m a cop!’ while I’m with the officers in a patrol car down the opposite side of the street. I told the cop about my service and I can help if needed but he insisted I stay in the car.

I told him obviously if he is in trouble, I’m gonna help. He smiled and said he understood. Meanwhile, the other detective is waiting patiently for A. A sends me a text saying, ‘Sorry I can’t meet up I don’t have enough money.’ I think oh crap, we’re losing him. We didn’t just go to all this trouble getting the police involved to back out now. **** no.
So I respond with ‘I can accept a payment plan. Half now half later since I’m already here.’ I’m so. God ****. Glad. This guy is an idiot. How much more obvious can a trap be?! He agrees and sends me (what I assume) is a fake amount of $680 of the agreed $1300 and comes strolling out of his apartment head held high like he’s about to make the biggest payday ever.

I hear over the radio from the detective who’s waiting for him ‘got visual. Blue shirt, camo shorts…………………………………………. Making contact.” The silence between those two phrases was deafening. But as soon as we heard ‘making contact’ the cop I’m with FLOORS IT from our position. Flips the lights on, zips past 5 cars and sees the dude standing in front of the detective ‘making small talk.’ He jumps out and grabs the dude’s arms puts them behind his back and starts repeating himself ‘Don’t fight back. Don’t make this harder for yourself.’ Over the radio, the detective says ‘detained.’
A GOES BRIGHT WHITE AND IS SO CONFUSED AND SCARED I ALMOST POOPED MYSELF LAUGHING.

The sleek black car my brother is in drives by and I hear over the radio, ‘that’s him’ (It was my brother.

He was so pumped our plan actually worked). Shortly followed by the detective he was with, ‘100% confirmation. Make the arrest and bring him in.’ They were actually really surprised at how well we set this up for them and how smoothly it all went down. They didn’t have to do anything but show up and make the arrest.
Back at the station, A is being questioned by police. Meanwhile, my brother is like, ‘I just want my stuff back.’ So the cops raided A’s apartment and forced A to give back my brothers $2,000 laptop. Luckily, he still had it but we later learned that it was for sale on A’s new Offer Up account. Afterward, the police told my brother since he got his stuff back there’s not much else they can do except give him a citation and let the court system handle the rest.

My brother sat and thought about it for a second and he WOULD NOT ACCEPT THAT.
During the questioning, he opened the door to the questioning room to find the detective and officers all turning to the door ready for a fight, then relaxing when they saw it was just him (apparently you don’t wanna just barge in unannounced, they don’t like that). But he asks the detective to talk for a second. My brother goes over the evidence one more time and literally shows him the three times in ONE WEEK that jerk has scammed people. 1) Him, 2) his coworker (who luckily didn’t fall for it), and 3) me (the set up). There’s no way this guy hasn’t been doing this for a while.

The detective agreed with my brother that its blatantly obvious this guy had a system in place and they decided to do more digging. Last I heard, A owes $30,000 in stolen goods and is serving time in prison. I don’t know for how long. But it felt so good to see the satisfaction on my brothers face. my5t3ryon
 

14. P*** Off My Work As Your Own? I’ll Expose You

“I used to work in a marketing role in a government department. I was part-time and worked along with a girl, who I’ll call Karen, who was working on a yearly contract. She’d been there for 2 years and was very friendly with the department manager and this was the reason her contract kept being renewed.

When my manager went on maternity leave, Karen got temporarily promoted to the management role. This caused a lot of upset in the office as there were a number of more suitable and qualified people who didn’t get the chance to act up.
As soon as Karen became my manager, everything changed. My workload increased and as I was part-time, I had to absolutely bust my *** to meet project deadlines. All of a sudden, I wasn’t being included in staff briefs on new projects yet was expected to work on them. My department manager was acting really off with me too. This went on for months before I approached my department manager and asked to discuss my workload etc. She sat me down and basically told me that I really needed to get my act together as Karen was having to pick up my workload and it was affecting her output because I was, in Karen’s words ‘so lazy I should be fired.’
I told the manager what was going on and the actual work I was doing but she took Karen’s side and said I was just ***isting with some parts of projects and it was ridiculous of me to claim I was managing and completing so many projects on my own.

So I started making mistakes. Simple things, adding wrong briefs for designers, not including prices, adding incorrect budgets and deadlines that were 2 days out, etc.

Karen started to get pulled by various managers asking why she was making so many mistakes then I knew for sure she was p***ing off my work as her own. She called me in for a meeting and exploded. I walked out.
She had begun whining about me to teammates saying how lazy I was etc. My friends began to tell me what was going on. One friend informed me that Karen was online for on average 5 hours a day planning her upcoming wedding in Spain and was using the office phones to make international calls to the wedding planners.

He could see her screen and couldn’t believe how lazy she was. So she was planning her wedding while I was busting my *** off.

So I decided to skip talking to the managers and went straight to HR. I told them to have IT monitor her internet usage and her outgoing calls. I said I could prove she was a lazy **** and was relying on me. I was obviously able to show email trails and the project documents I had completed and she had then taken and saved down as her own.
2 weeks later Karen was called to HR and told her contract was not being renewed and she was given 1 month’s notice. She told everyone it was because of budget cuts.

My department heads brought me in for meetings to apologize and commend me on my excellent work and I got a promotion.

I left a couple of months later. If they’d believed me in the first place I wouldn’t have endured so many months of stress and anxiety.” PawPaw06

12. Don’t Want To Clean The House? Mom Will Turn It Into A Prison

“Let’s take a look back, waaay back, to the time of the first stirrings of the y2k bug where people believed that the world was going to end in a nuclear war because the computers were going to hit 00 when the year 2000 came around.

It was almost the summer of 1999 I was just a twig of a child, mostly gangly limbs and big eyes, and all of eleven years old or so.
Our cast for this tale is A, my eldest step-sibling…N, the catalyst of this tale…M, me, the Bambi looking gullible and who should have known better…Lu, stepbrother, my age and he should have known better too…K, younger sister by 2 years and L, the youngest. The baby of the family.

Now my mother re-married a man (we shall call him RG) when I was about 8 years old. Due to the whole ‘soap incident’, he delegated all forms of discipline to her when it came to punishing us all on a whole. So due to her working long 13-hour days to support us all and the lack of allowance for doing chores because let’s face it, 6 kids tend to run you dry if you try to keep up with it all, we, the children, started slacking off.

This did not sit well with my mother, who used her usual threat of, ‘I WILL go into your rooms and whatever is on the floor, goes in the garbage.’ This is something we had heard all our lives but us younger kids, as in me and all below me, totally believed she would do it…

…until THIS one faithful day.

It was gorgeous outside, the sun was shining, spring had brought new leaves to the trees and all the neighborhood kids could be heard screaming through the streets because the 90s were a time of uncontrolled childhood chaos where parents happily released their spores into the wild and drank wine while they didn’t have to think about their hellspawn until the street lights flicked on.

Unfortunately, for us, MY mother decided that this gorgeous weekend day was best used for picking up the slack that we let get away from us. She demanded we clean our rooms while repeating that well-known phrase we all knew and despised. We groaned, we whined…we relented and started to comply.

But then my sister N, the stonecold and wisest of the elder sisters, just shrugged and IGNORED THE ORDER! She and A shared a room, practically having one side of the upper floor, which had a wall knocked down and renovated into almost like a mini apartment sans kitchen, all to themselves and at the all-knowing age of 13 (N) and 15 (A) they both decided they had better things to do that day than listen to our Mom.

‘A’ left to go on a date with her boyfriend she made the year before and N sat in her room on her computer (a giant PC of a thing linked into a separate line so the dial-up wouldn’t fudge up our phone systems.)
When we, the younger kids, started bugging her, shocked at her audacity my sister N said these words.

‘It’s not like she’s actually going to throw all our stuff away. She paid for it all, she’s not just going to toss it all out because that’s a waste of money. This is a home, it’s not a prison. She’s not the warden and we don’t HAVE to do what she says.’

Then, she left us standing there with our puny impressionable minds totally blown.

We DIDN’T have to do what mom said? Is that even possible?! My younger sister K and my brother Lu took this at face value and immediately took off. They were 11 (Lu) and 9 (K) and had friends waiting on them, they didn’t have TIME to waste cleaning their rooms on an empty threat.
L, only seven years old, was more hesitant but was as easily distracted as I was and we ended up playing barbies for the rest of the day totally forgetting about our worries until dinner time.

Silence.

Dinner was quiet, awkward. Mom was p*ssed the house did not get cleaned and RG was ready to lay his hammer down at my mother’s command. The interrogation went as expected and K, our more…erm.. expressive sister blew up (figuratively) at my mother.

‘This is a HOME, Mom! Not a PRISON! And it’s MY room!’ With this, dinner was concluded. K stormed off. Mom went quiet and with the most Stepford wife smile ever just asked us all if we felt this way. My elder sisters agreed immediately, not really caring because of teenage angst and we younger kids slowly nodded at their insistent stares.
‘I see.’
And that was that. No punishments, no scoldings or groundings and the rest of the weekend went off without a hiccup. We should have known something was up. Mom sent us all off to school Monday herself, which was unusual because she usually woke up before us and was gone by the time we finished brushing our teeth. We then wouldn’t see her until dinner later in the day but she made us a biiiig breakfast, hinted at a surprise for us when we get home from school, kissed us goodbye and sent us happily out the door.

Mom’s PRO revenge.
While we were at school Mom, RG and some of his friends came in and got rid of EVERYTHING that would be enjoyable to a child. The basement was emptied and cleaned, all computers, video games, Gameboys, CD players, rodeos and TVs were taken. Dressers and closets were emptied, toys upon toys where tossed, colorful blankets and sheets removed from beds, decorations, pencils and coloring tools, papers and scissors, glue…basically any and all craft supplies, GONE.

When we returned home, RG was in his military uniform and accosted us as we came in through the door, pinned us to the wall and frisked each of us. Backpacks, candy and everything we had on us was taken. My mother then handed us some grey pajamas and ordered us to march into the bathroom to change.

Terrified, we complied.
The living room seemed so bare. The piano/recorder was gone, along with the tv…the puzzles and games usually kept in the room were gone from the shelves. The bathroom was no better. Bare except for a bottle of Head and Shoulders and a bar of soap on a string for some reason. It smelled strongly of bleach. We were then sat down on lawn chairs, the couch occupied by my stone-cold mother, as we waited for every child to arrive in silence.

Welcome to the month of ****.
We watched as my mother tossed all our clothes into a garbage bag. All toys and art supplies from our backpacks followed, and RG was in uniform and with his scariest expression as my mother went through our new itinerary for life from now on.

Wake up at dawn, physical training in the mornings through the town, lead by RG. Oatmeal with no sugar for breakfast then off to school. Drop off made to the classrooms by RG and pick up the moment the bell goes at the end of the day. Lunch is roast beef sandwiches, barely any mayo, and wilted lettuce. The school has been informed to not give us anything else and to take away anything not given to us by our parents.
Once home we are each assigned a room to clean, our bags taken, and checked for contraband. Room clean? Physical training in the back yard, a deflated soccer ball as a toy, nothing else, leave the fenced-in area and you get extra punishment.

No friends, calls, or escape. Dinner was colds peas, corn, beans, and mystery meat. No butter, salt or ketchup allowed.

‘You don’t take care of your home you don’t deserve your home. Welcome to prison.’

Homework was done at the table, use of pencils and paper regulated and inventory counted. Bedtime was at 6. Lights out at 7 and the doors locked until morning. The bathroom must be used before bed or you have to go in the pot put in your room. It is up to you to keep it cleaned. We had two sets of pjs we went to school in, all grey, and a set for bed. It was up to us to keep them clean.
Uniform must be maintained, hair must be maintained, our grades must stay high.

No excuses, no exceptions.
By the time a week was up she had broken us. N and A had stayed stubborn but even they broke by the second week. Then the appeals. You want release? Write us an essay on why you think you’re ready to return to society. Then an interview to determine leniency. My younger sister L and I managed to be allowed outside beyond the yard, it took several days for the others to follow. By the end of the month, we were ready to do anything my mother asked us to.
Then on the same day as last time she and RG came into our rooms and dumped garbage bags upon garbage bags, every book to every lego was in there, marked with our names.

All our stuff was brought back and my mother dumped them all out onto the floor and said ‘when I come back up here whatever is on the floor, goes in the garbage.’

We cleaned that *** UP FAST. We never ignored our chores again.” DeliciousMalediction
11. Don’t Believe In Safety First? He Does And He’ll Make You Cough It Up

“I’ve worked in construction, paving, and mining for years. I was a fabricator, welder, mechanic, laborer, and equipment operator or a combination of all 5 at various times. If you’re familiar with MSHA (Mine Safety and Health Administration) then you know it’s like OSHA (Occupational Safety and Health Administration) on steroids. My dad has decades of experience in the coal, iron, copper, borax, and uranium mining industries and is an MSHA instructor (as well as a pilot).

My older brother worked in construction and mining as well and is now the safety compliance officer for a huuuuge construction company. My uncle was a journeyman for almost 40 years (that’s a lot of years to be a power line electrician and never suffer a serious injury). Needless to say, we have a rather large knowledge of what is safe and what is not safe. Safety regulations aren’t BS. They are designed to keep your fingers attached and your heart beating. Literally, thousands upon thousands of people have been horribly maimed and killed in order to build these regulations into what they are. I detest employers skirting safety for money.
Story: I quit my last mining job because the employer was shady as **** (white collar crime stuff.

Yes, they went out of business) and I was tired of the 200+ mile commute each day on top of 12+ hours of work in 130+ degree heat. I began looking for a new job and found a fabrication gig building/maintaining/repairing offroad vehicles. I rather enjoyed the work even though it paid half what the mining did. Fairly large facility with about 40 employees. I had decent coworkers and this was my first job with air conditioning (LOVE AC), however, I couldn’t really stand the shop manager (SM).
SM was a know it all that didn’t really know anything about welding or fabrication or safety. I’d say something like, ‘I think we can do this work/repair/job twice as fast if we do this instead’ and his normal type of response would be, ‘Wel, we pay you to work, not think/ask questions,’ etc.

The guy was (and to my knowledge still is) an idiot and I cannot figure out how he got his position. Literally, every time you’d step into his office, he was watching stuff on YouTube or reading a magazine. He never lifted a finger in the shop in my 1.5 years around there, and I have no idea what he actually ‘managed.’
For about the first year there, each month I’d put in orders for stuff like welding gloves, respirator filters, welding hoods, welding wire, tools, raw materials, etc. You know, stuff they’re supposed to supply. In my last few months there, SM slacked even more which I didn’t think was possible and started skimping on my orders. I’d order 5 pairs of decent gloves, and he would get me 2 pairs of crappy gloves.

I’d order name brand parts to repair machinery, he would get me cheap Chinese parts. Other requests were simply ignored and I did end up spending my money to purchase PPE (personal protective equipment) which got old really quick. I’d tell him stuff along the lines of, ‘hey you can’t let people block fire extinguishers like that’ or ‘you can’t store those chemicals there” and he’d brush it off like I have no idea *** I’m talking about.
This is where all the safety stuff I’d learned and been around for decades came in handy.
He really started getting under my skin badly, so I wrote up a loooong list of around 20 – 25 OSHA violations I found over the course of a Monday and took about 60 photos which I planned to turn into him since IT’ HIS JOB TO FIX THIS STUFF.

That Friday I went looking for him around lunchtime but couldn’t find him so I went to HR and basically vented to them about SM and about how because of his ever increasingly low standards, they are begging for an accident to happen. The work environment had become unsafe and it needed SOMEONE to straighten stuff up. I leave HR and go back to work. Around 30 mins later SM walks up to me and is p*ssed.
The convo went a little something like this:

SM: ‘HR tells me you don’t think this place is safe?’

Me: ‘Yeah man, somethings gotta be done bout some of this stuff. In fact, I got a list for ya right h-…’

SM takes the list from my hand and rips it in half.

SM: ‘Well, if it’s so unsafe, why are you here?!’

Me: ‘Because I-…’

SM: ‘YOU KNOW WHAT? YOU CAN TAKE THE REST OF THE DAY OFF.’

Me: ‘Alright…

SM: ‘IN FACT, DONT BOTHER COMING BACK MONDAY OR TUESDAY OR WEDNESDAY-…’

Me: ‘Are you firing me for bringing up safety complaints to you?’

I start getting a fat grin
SM: ‘YES, IN FAC-…’

Me: ‘Say no more. See ya.’
I gathered up my tools and toolbox and left. I get home and file for unemployment. My unemployment claim gets rejected (surprise, surprise) and I appeal the decision, so the matter gets sent to arbitration a few weeks later (roughly 6 weeks after I was let go). I’m in the waiting room and reviewing all the paperwork relating to my claim and the first page I see is the company response to my initial claim which said I was fired for, ‘freaking out, being belligerent, and wouldn’t say what the safety issues actually were.’ The next page is their response to my appeal which said I was fired for ‘being belligerent’ and despite my p*ss poor attitude they were ‘fixing the safety issues he brought up.’
I get called into the arbitration room and I’m actually shocked that no one from my former company showed up.

It was just me and the arbitrator (very Judge Judy-like lady), she asked me straight and direct questions, I answered truthfully and the whole thing was over in probably 6 minutes. She asked me if I had any questions and I had just one, ‘why did they say on page one of my paperwork that I wouldn’t tell them what the safety issues were but page two says they are working towards fixing the issues I told them?’ The arbitrator went silent for a minute while reading each page and just says ‘Huh… You’re right.’ I’m told it’ll be about 2 weeks before I have an answer. The next morning, maybe 14~ hours after the arbitration I receive a letter saying my benefits are approved… Plus I get retroactive benefits from the date I was fired AND I’m receiving $100 more each week (net income) on unemployment than I was making fulltime at the company lol.

Fast forward about a year, I saved some of the unemployment money and used it to get my own little fabrication shop going. My dad calls me up one day letting me know that one of his customers that day is an OSHA inspector and they got to talking about what had happened with my former company and me and my dad even showed those pictures to the inspector guy (I didn’t have a PC or printer at home so I printed those 60 pics up at his work and left copies there the year before). He said the inspector was appalled by pictures and said he would check it out.
Fast forward another year. My little fabrication company gets brought into the fold of the company my dad works at so they could stop outsourcing mechanics and fabricators and it’d be much cheaper to have a mechanic/welder in-house.

On one of my days off that same OSHA inspector fella came by and got to talking with my dad again about my former company. Apparently, he did a surprise visit to them not long after he had seen my dad the previous year and handed out somewhere in the neighborhood of $30,000 in fines for OSHA violations. Not fix-it tickets. Full on ‘pay this or we shut you down’ fines.” NigerianFriedChicken
10. Trying To Get Me In Trouble? You’re The One Drinking While Carrying Your Child

“A few weeks ago, I was driving in my neighborhood playing Pokemon Go (not while driving obviously). The end of my neighborhood has a Pokestop that I collect items from every day, as you get bonus items if you collect from stops every day.

This particular day was my 7th day, meaning I would get even more items and would start over from day one the next day. I drove to the stop, got the items, set my phone on my passenger seat and went home. The road I was driving on was 20 mph, but I was going about 12-13 mph. I drive up a small hill and turn a corner when a wild family appears, including the ***** dad (AD).
The wife, her friend, and the three kids walking by them stepped off to the side of the road to let me pass, but as I was going by, AD, who had a young boy about 3-4 years old in one arm and holding a Budweiser bottle in the other (important later), actually STEPPED CLOSER TO MY CAR AND YELLED SOMETHING AT ME! Being as I had gotten into an accident recently and was trying to be as safe as possible, I stopped the car, rolled down my window, and asked if he was alright.

The conversation went as followed.
Me: ‘Are you guys alright? Why did you do that?’
AD: ‘You see my family, right?’

Me: ‘Yes, what about them?’

AD: ‘You know you were driving too fast for this neighborhood right?’ (I should point out that I live in Illinois and while my car was being repaired from the accident, I had a loaner car with Wisconsin plates)

Me: ‘Sir I was going only about 12 mph and the limit is 20 here, I wasn’t driving too fast.’

AD: ‘Well, you almost hit me and my son.’

Me: ‘Yeah, cause you stepped close to a moving vehicle! The only one putting you guys in danger was yourself.’

AD (looks at my phone in the passenger seat): ‘I don’t know the laws in Wisconsin, but here in Illinois, you can’t be on your phone while driving.

I’m calling the police.’
Me: ‘I don’t know their laws either, this car is just a loaner, I live here in Illinois’

AD: ‘Then you should know the laws! I’m calling the cops.’

Me: ‘Have fun with that.’
And with that, I just left. I know I probably should have stayed, but since I didn’t actually do anything wrong, I wasn’t taking his threat seriously. I went home and made some ramen to eat. As I was sitting in my dining room, I look out the window and nearly choke on my noodles. AD FOLLOWED ME HOME!!! He was on his cellphone with the dispatcher and I thought I was screwed. About 5 minutes later 2 cop cars with 3 police officers, PO1, PO2, and PO3 (who didn’t really talk throughout the whole thing).

I stepped outside thinking I was done for. The officers started to question the two of us.
PO1: ‘OP, do you know why we are here?’

Me: ‘I have a pretty good idea what you think you’re doing here, but why don’t you let me know?’

PO1: ‘This gentleman called us saying you attempted to run his family over after you got caught texting while driving and going way over the speed limit.’

My mind went blank for a few seconds. This jerk actually said that I had attempted vehicular manslaughter. My mind started working again and I said…

Me: ‘Sir, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. I was driving home from playing Pokemon on my phone when this man stepped close to my car while I was driving.

My phone was on the passenger seat the entire ride home.’
AD: ‘He’s lying! He nearly killed my family! Arrest him now!’

PO2: ‘Sir, calm down. We’ll settle this…’

PO1: ‘OP, what was this man doing when the incident occurred?’

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head, and right there, on the fly, the revenge started.

Me: ‘He was walking with his family along the side of the road, carrying a young boy on one arm and holding a beer bottle in the other.’

AD: ‘That’s not true you piece of garbage!’

PO2: ‘Sir, control yourself!’

Me: ‘As I drove by them, the rest of his family went to the side of the road, but he actually stepped closer to my car. I think he got within an inch of me’
AD: ‘This is BS! He’s just trying to protect himself.’

PO1: ‘Sir, if what he is saying is true, you could actually be arrested here, not him.’

PO2: ‘Are you sure that’s what happened?’

Me: ‘Positive.

He got way too close to my moving vehicle holding a child and a bottle of Miller Light.’

AD: ‘It wasn’t Miller Light it was Budwei-‘
He cut himself off and tried to backtrack but it was too late. All the officers looked at him. He tried to defend himself, but then PO3 said something I thought I would never hear a cop say in my life…

PO3: ‘Sir, have you had anything to drink this evening?’
AD, now very less confident: ‘N-n-no..’

They move him to one of the cop cars and gave him a breathalyzer test; .12%, just over the limit. Gotcha, *****. AD ended up confessing to them that I was right and was arrested for public intoxication and child endangerment. He has to go before a judge to determine if he’s a danger to his family.

The officers asked if I wanted to press any charges, but I told them no, since he already had enough on his plate to deal with.’ DragonDadIx
9. Steal Expensive Jewelry And Pin It On Me? We’ll Spend A Year Plotting Revenge

“This is a long post, you’ve been warned.
So I worked for Company A for almost a decade that had a small team consisting of ten people, doing commissioned work for businesses in my city. The owner treated us like family, knowing that we worked long and hard days, sometimes up to 60 hours in a week. He paid us better than expected, bonuses and perks, he negotiated with businesses that commissioned our work, even gave the whole company a week off paid when his son was getting married so we could attend it.

We had our squabbles like any other family, and things weren’t always bright and perfect, but this is to show how nice the Owner treated his employees. And didn’t screw me over.
After working there for years, the manager position came open. By then I was one of the most senior workers with Company A, so I thought I would apply, which had a few others interested as well. I didn’t get the position, mainly because, despite my experience at Company A, I didn’t have a Business Administration degree. Someone who worked for the Owner did, so he got it. Realizing the education I would have to get, and the demand of this job, I thought long and hard and concluded that, if I wanted to go anywhere in life, I would have to get that degree.

Coming right of high school to work for Company A was great, but if I wanted to do something more I would have to go to university. I talked to the Owner and gave my two weeks notice. When I explained what I wanted to do and why, he understood that I was trying to make something of myself. This all becomes relevant later.
Going to university, I found that I had tuition covered through government grants but not things like food, rent, etc. So I looked around and eventually found work at Company B. Company B was a retail store, with a bigger staff than I had been used to, somewhere around 50 employees but had such a huge employee turnaround that it was scary at times.

They dealt with a wide arrangement of goods from groceries to very expensive items. They had a certain niche clientele that they could order items for and catered to. I ended up working part-time in their warehouse and answered to the Warehouse Supervisor, who answered to the Manager. There were other supervisors for other parts of the store, but for this only the Sales Supervisor is relevant.
Skip forward seven years. In that time I got my BA degree and worked at Company B the whole time, going from part-time to full and eventually applied for the Warehouse Supervisor position. I was interviewed, got the job, been a supervisor for months when the Manager and I hired K as a warehouse clerk.

K isn’t the one to get the revenge, but she played a crucial part in the revenge.

Then **** (B) gets hired.
B started out as a cashier, working quickly up the chain and brown-nosing as many co-workers as possible, including the Manager. When a sales rep went on maternity leave, B quickly jumped at the chance to work in sales and ended up permanently being a part of that team then the Sales Supervisor soon after.
B and I got along like oil and water. We butted heads over things constantly; she would tell the Manager all the small things that I did, but called me a snitch when I reported the issues she was causing. She would badmouth me and my warehouse staff, talk over me at meetings and try to take credit for my ideas.

She openly told co-workers that I was the cause of many issues and couldn’t wait for me to leave. Oh, and she was NEVER at fault. It would be the customer’s fault, my fault, the delivery driver’s fault, another co-workers fault, etc. There were times when we got together well, but far and few between.
So one day, a very, and I mean VERY, expensive ring set (over $5,000 I found out later), ordered by one of our customers, comes in. Years ago, I set up a procedure for any type of jewelry so that it will not get lost or stolen. The last step is, once we have done everything with it in the warehouse, we take it to the office and have someone put it in the safe immediately.

This particular time, I was the one who received the rings so, once going through the procedure, I told K that I was taking it to the office. The only one available who had the combination to the safe was B. I asked her if she could open the safe, she looked at me, looked at the jewelry box in my had, then said, ‘put it down here on my desk, I’ll put it away once I’m done this email.’ Keep in mind that B and I had had a serious spat over something earlier that day, and I generally didn’t feel like being close to her if I could help it. So I never saw her put it in the safe myself.

The next day, I get a call from the Manager to come to the office. I head there to find Manager, B, and the HR consultant they pull in when some real *** hits the fan. Manager tells me that said ring set has disappeared. I tell them the procedure I followed and last I saw them was with B. Manager tells me that B checked the box and that said box was empty. Manager then pulls the box out. Sure enough, the box the rings were in was indeed empty. I swear to Manager that the rings were inside when I checked them before given to B. At this point, it’s my word against hers. By a stroke of bad luck, the in-store video recorder had broken down days before the incident so there was no way to verify what happened.

We all know someone has to take the blame for this, and that’s when B strikes, saying that it was my fault, since it was last seen in my hands. Manager asks if this is true, then I realize that, yes, I was indeed the last person to touch the thing, and I never actually saw B pick up the box. B gives me the look that screamed ‘Gotcha!’. Manager and the HR consultant ask us both to leave. After what seemed like forever, I get called in. Manager tells me that, since I was responsible for the rings at the time and now are lost, they would be firing me. But, since they had no proof as to whether I stole the rings or not, they wouldn’t press charges (which scared the crap out of me as this was the first time I heard of them thinking this).

I go back to the warehouse, tell K and the other warehouse clerks just what happened grabbed my personal belongings and left that day.
After a couple weeks of trying to get my head around what happened and weighing my options, I decide my first priority is to try to get some sort of job, and consider it lucky if I get a job flipping burgers with the bad rep I’ll get when they ask Company B about my previous work history. I call the Owner of Company A to get a good reference from them and explain what happened and why I was calling, only to get the shock of a lifetime. The manager position was about to be open; the guy who I lost the position to was retiring soon, due to complicated health reasons.

Owner had kept tabs on me while at university and understood when I didn’t immediately come back to him, but with a golden opportunity like this, he wanted me back and I wasn’t going to say no.
I dive into the new job I originally wanted with an Owner I enjoyed working for. I thought, then and there, everything would be behind me, not knowing it would come back, not to bite me, but to pay dividends.

This I found out later. After I was fired, K knew she had to do something about B. K knew that I wouldn’t lose or steal something like the rings. But also knew that, without proof, B would deny that she did it and have K in her cross-hairs to attack next.

So, after talking with her husband, she hatched a plan.
She started hanging out with B telling her things like ‘I’m SO glad he’s gone!’ or ‘Wish he had been fired MUCH earlier!’ B, feeling high from getting rid of one of her thorns in her side, soaked it all in, and after a couple of weeks, invited K and K’s Husband (from now on KH) for drinks at her place with her and B’s Husband (BH). Months pass, K and KH do things regularly together with B and BH, including drinking on weekends and couple-related events. When together, K would occasionally bad-mouth me, and B would agree. Finally, after over a year of playing nice, when K and KH were over at B’s for one of their drinking parties, K randomly bad-mouthed me, mentioning the rings in passing.

Then B says something that K was waiting for:
‘I wanted those rings, so I stole them.’
K, upon hearing this, asks for more details. KH looks at her tries to wave her off with one hand, then gives up when B keeps talking. That day, B had stopped writing her email and was going to put the rings in the safe. The safe was open and she was about to put the rings away when B had an idea. See, as mentioned above, B wanted me gone from Company B. She also wanted those rings. She also knew that the cameras weren’t working. She figured that she could pocket the rings, tell the Manager they were missing, and spin it so I would take the blame.

K then asks where are the rings now, and B being too drunk and not seeing a reason not to brag, not only tells her but shows her where they are in her room. All while KH had been RECORDING THE WHOLE CONVERSATION on his phone (the hand waving was him saying he started recording).
K gives a copy of the recording to Manager the next workday. Police are called immediately, B is arrested and her house is raided. They find the rings. K and KH give the recording and testimonies to the police. B’s reckoning has begun.
I eventually get a call from the prosecutor’s office after B is arrested and charged with theft over $5,000, among other things. He wants me to testify about what she did to me.

I didn’t skip a beat in saying yes. Fast track to the trial, the prosecutor has me, K, and KH testify and plays the recording of B admitting that she stole them. Her attorney tries to throw out the case saying that K got B deliberately drunk, but the judge didn’t buy it since there was proof she drank all the time. The judge was lenient and gave her five years in prison, which she yelled was unfair, but I personally thought she got off easy.
Meanwhile, as the trial was happening, I was talking with a lawyer to sue B for setting me up like she did. We were also going to sue Company B for wrongful termination, but they settled the day they got notice of the lawsuit and knew they would lose.

B wasn’t so lucky. They tried some trickery by having BH divorce her and he received everything in the divorce, but my lawyer added him into the lawsuit as well. My lawyer asked overall for $3,500 for emotional distress, back pay from when I was fired until I started up with Company A again and legal fees.
And now, you are wondering where the metaphoric cherry is on this story? Well, years after all this, we had someone leave Company A, so we were hiring someone to replace them. The owner was going over the resumes and set up interviews for the job this week. Lo and behold, B was one of the people to apply, but he didn’t know that. I looked at the resume, was about to trash it, but then smiled.

Owner set up the interview. She came in at her slotted time, looking to brown-nose her way through. Then she saw me. I smiled an evil smile, she went white. All I said was, ‘Ah, B how are you? Remember me?’ A deer in the headlight look from her. I look at her resume and say ‘I’m sorry, I do not think you will be a good fit for our company. Thank you for applying.’ Fuzed_Canadian
8. Make Me Work Against Policy? We’ll Throw You A “Good Riddance” Party

“So back in my 20s I worked for a large national sewer and drain company called Roto-Rooter, a great job, and a great place to work where I was lucky enough to be trained by some of the most skilled technicians in the industry.

There was however one supervisor. Let’s call him Billy. Now Billy was your typical kiss-a*s who spent most of his time trying to please anyone who he thought held any influence (the senior techs) or power (the branch and regional manager), and loved to lord his power (he made the shift schedules and scheduled time off) over anyone who he thought he could push around. A typical interaction with one of the big earners (this is a commission job) would be something like, ‘Hey you need a day off? Sure, just let me know when and I will be happy to help you.’ While he was dealing with a new hire or a low earner, you were lucky if he would pick up the phone or take a second to hear you out.

So one night around my third month on the job, I was sent to a mortuary to do some work. It’s the gross, hazardous jobs like that pay really well (maybe $200 dollars in your pocket for an hour’s work). When it was done, I called and told him I was taking the rest of the night off due to some chemicals in their sewer making me feel a little woozy and I didn’t think it would be safe for me to operate heavy machinery. He flipped out and told me that if I didn’t get back on the road I would have a disciplinary hearing the next day, to which I said, ‘sure can’t wait to see you there.’
As soon as I walked in I requested someone from HR to be present as well as our assigned safety officer.

The safety officer position in the company is very important, as the company is self-insured and any safety violation can get you fired on the spot. I let Billy go first and he says ‘you can’t leave whenever you want from your shift, you are getting a warning and next time I am going to fire you.’ I calmly reach into my bag and pull out our employee handbook and begin to read, while I don’t remember the exact phrasing it goes something like this, ‘if you feel at any time that the situation or job you are in/on is dangerous, or may lead to a dangerous situation, you are to stop immediately.’ There was another section about being inebriated, exposed to methane gas from the sewer, being light-headed, etc.

And how you should go home and not operate any equipment under those conditions. It even went so far as to say that transportation would be paid for by the company if you didn’t feel safe driving (they were very big on safety since any insurance claims would be paid by them directly). I asked the safety manager if I did anything wrong and he supported me 100%, then I asked HR what they thought and they said if it’s a safety issue you go home and don’t worry about your shift. At this point, the regional manager asked me to leave the office and I hear him rip into Billy like a fat kid on cake. That should have been enough for me, but I am petty… I never forgive and I am very patient.

As time goes on I become one of the top earners in my city, get rookie of the year my first year and salesman of the year my second, and Billy gets a reputation for being lazy, and irresponsible. My second year at the company, Billy is put on probation and this is where I go into pro revenge mode. I gather up all the new guys and some of my buddies from my shift and I organize them so at least once or twice a week someone goes in there to complain about Billy. We never lied, we just knew what buttons to push to get him to self destruct. New guys would ask for a day off, or someone would take a sick day during a busy shift, etc.

Finally, the branch manager snaps and calls Billy into his office. He demotes him to a salesman and puts him on my shift (at a company like this, the shifts become very close, we all talk in our trucks through our radios while waiting for jobs, and we all help each other when needed). During Billy’s first few weeks on the road, our supervisor makes sure he gets all the fun jobs – flooded basements, tight spaces, and generally anything that will get him absolutely covered in poop. And, of course, as all this was happening, I had every single person I was friends with at the company call him and ask him for scheduling changes so he had to explain to about 30 people how he was demoted and no longer a manager.

Eventually, Billy broke. He started crying to the dispatcher about how he couldn’t take it anymore, and quit. The next day, two other guys and I threw a Billy’s-Gone party with cake and pizza at a neighborhood bar, put up signs in the office and made a general announcement in the morning when we went in to hand in paperwork when we knew Billy would be there to give in his two weeks notice. He actually came up to us to thank us, and I got the pleasure of informing him that he’s not invited. It’s not a going away party, it’s a ‘You’re Gone’ party. It wouldn’t make sense for you to be at a party where we are celebrating you not being around anymore.

In the end, only about 20 of the 50 employees at the branch showed up, but it was still a great party.” spartan1008
7. Throw A Little Person Into The River? We’ll Teach You A Lesson

“Yesterday I went kayaking with some friends. Whilst on the river we saw a woman who was obviously a small person. After about 2 miles, we finally took a break on the shore to answer nature’s call and drink a beer. Well, after about 10 minutes of sitting there I noticed that a kayak was empty and floating down the river, and about another 5 minutes passed before I saw the woman swimming trying to catch up. I sprung into action, swimming out, grabbing her, and bringing her ashore.

If I didn’t do that then she would have wound up going through some rapids. Since I have kayaked loads in my life in the boy scouts, I had no issues with taking on another person in my one seat yak.
I started talking to her to find out what had happened (I’ll call her Bethany from here on out). I was immediately thinking she was just too small for the boat to stay balanced out and it flipped. NOPE! She started talking about a group of men that has been harassing her the entire way. Asking her if she floats easier because she’s a midget, and saying many other mean and terrible things. They eventually got close enough to flip her kayak over telling her that she needs to swim to catch up to it.

We floated another 7 miles before we got to the end of the line and pulled the kayaks up to the dock. I sent my attractive and bubbly female friend over to talk to the group after Bethany pointed them out. Since they’re nothing more than ******* they went straight to asking for her number and hitting on her about how good looking she is in her bikini. She started asking if they saw the ‘midget’ on the river to which they started laughing and told her what they had done. I was close enough to hear it myself. After she got that information I sent her boyfriend over to start talking about cars with them. They started talking about their sleeper civic’ and how they just got a new paint job to make it purple.

That’s all the information I needed. I told my friend to keep them busy with car talk.
This is where it starts getting good. I then ran to the parking lot with another friend to search down this car. After I had found it we started taking off its two front tires (I have a lot of tools in my truck and some jacks I wasn’t upset to lose so this wasn’t hard at all). I then sent my fastest running friend to the end of the parking lot with the wheels. When the group of jerks arrived they were freaking out over the wheels. My friend then looked over to them yelling at them that if they wanted to get home they had to run to catch up to them.

He rolled them down and started running for my truck, hopped in, and we started to drive away. I told Bethany that I would take her home if she wanted to stay back and watch karma smoke them in the face, to which she did. On the way out, we got a good look at how far the tires rolled down the hill. Those puppies had to have rolled a good half mile and watching five fat fratboys trying to run downhill was amazing.
I thought that was the end of it but no, no it wasn’t. By some magical force, the dude that we dished out the revenge to lives close to me. I was outside mowing the front lawn when I saw a purple Civic on the back of a flatbed truck.

It finally hit me that the purple civic USED To be the white and green one that sat in the front yard of a house just down the road. The owner? The father of the dude that drove it, and the father of the one who flipped ol’ girls kayak. Unbeknownst to me, the tire iron that’s supposed to be in the car to change wheels in an emergency wasn’t in there so they had to call a tow to get it back. I know why the towing company didn’t let them use a tire iron as it was going to be a better lucrative idea to charge them the full price of a tow.
Moral of the story? A really, really, really simple one .

. . don’t be an ****** and bully people with disabilities. I just wish I could have heard what the guy said to cover his ***. He more than likely lied saying he was the ‘victim’ in all of it, but at least Bethany and I know the truth and that’s all we need. And the best part? After explaining to the Kayaking company the situation, Bethany was able to get a full refund and a free p*** for another kayaking trip. She invited me and my friends to go with her sometime next week. We’ll make sure she doesn’t get messed with on that trip.” SuspicousView
6. Lie And Cheat While I’m Gone? You’re Not My Problem Anymore

“So I am in the Army and I was married.

I was approaching my first deployment to Iraq.

It was very stressful and it had my wife wanting me to find a way to stay and not deploy. Obvious things any wife would try to talk about. Anyways, so we have no kids but both want them. So we talk about getting out of debt while I’m gone.

She talks to her best friend back home in another state where we are both from. Her friend agrees to let her move in and charge a modest 300 in rent so that we can get out of debt and start a family when I come back. A plan I was actually very pleased with.
I deploy. She is there crying her eyes out saying she will miss me and loves me and we will start a family when we get back.

Fast forward 2 months. She starts acting distant. Not wanting to talk much on our scheduled calls or text back one or two-word answers. We’ve been together 6 years she is never at a loss for words.
Anyway, one day she says I need some space… she asked someone who is 10,000 miles away for space. I say why she says she just needs space. She wants to ‘find herself.’ So I remember back when we lived at home, she had a guy who was always being borderline inappropriate. I’m not a very jealous person and I trust her. So I start seeing said guy in basically all her pictures she posts with a group. Every time, he is in the picture.

Everyone else changes but never him.
So for the first time, I’m very jealous and uneasy about everything. So I clone her phone and I receive every text she receives as well as every text she sends. I’ll never forget the first text I saw after cloning her phone.

‘Hey babe, I’ll see you after work. Want me to save you any of my leftovers?’

From her to him. It destroyed me. I lost 35 pounds in a week. I didn’t eat or sleep. I stared at the phone watching every conversation. Watching them talk about trying to have a baby. It was literally everything a married person fears.
I ask her if she is seeing someone and she says no she isn’t. She is taking care of her self and she loves me blah blah.

I don’t say anything about receiving her texts for 2 months. Over this time, she finally admits cheating and that he is so much better than me at ***, treating her right, and he does what she wants.

During this time she pays our debt off, gets tattoos with him (matching I love you tattoos), goes to shows with him, buys clothes, etc. With the money I’m making! So this is where revenge starts.
I put a freeze on the account for a month. In that time, I change every password to every account to things she won’t guess (Army jargon slang terms). I block her on Facebook and my phone so she has no way to contact me. She lost her car to repo a few months later, got kicked out of her place, and had to sell her prized shoes and purses just to stay alive.

I then find out she got a job at her old restaurant. So I post all the text conversations I have with her and the guy talking about having babies that have time stamps on it as well as post conversations we had with the matching time stamps showing all of our friends what she has done. I then have friends call and complain at her job constantly on both he and her. They work at a restaurant so I also have friends dine and dash. They both get fired.

So she tries to call my command and tell them that I am abandoning her and she can’t provide for herself. My commander knows what is going on. He does nothing because he had something similar happen.

Then about a month before I come back, she calls me from another number to tell me she is pregnant with his kid (we got divorced before the kid was born so I have no financial responsibility to her haven’t now for almost a year).
She moved away with him. 10 hours from me.

April 24, 2018. She calls me 5 months pregnant crying uncontrollably asking me where she should go. Apparently, they have a giant blow out of a fight she tells him she is leaving. She says she doesn’t know where to go and I simply say, ‘Sorry not my problem anymore.’

Fast forward January of this year. She calls me from a mutual friend’s phone.

Her: ‘He hit me. Idk what to do.’

Me: ‘Maybe, you don’t cheat on your husband when he is deployed for some guy who talks a big game.’

Her: ‘Well, I guess you are happy about this?’
Me: ‘No, but I’m glad I know I’m not the bad guy in this story.’

AND THEN THE NEXT MONTH.

Her: ‘He is cheating on me with 2 girls. I’m sorry. I regret everything I did. I f*cked it all up.’

Me: ‘Yea you did.’

All in all this woman destroyed my life. Put me into a deep depression I’m still dealing with, but I do feel a little better having proof that I wasn’t the problem. To think if this happened even 10 or 5 years ago, I would have come back to an empty bank account, an empty house, as well as seeing my then-wife pregnant with another man’s baby. She actually hit me up yesterday to ask for some money to help cover rent… CheapMexican
5. Don’t Take Care Of Family When They Need You? I’ll Keep Score

This story is the story of the grandfather of my dear friend, and how he dealt with doling out the family’s inheritance in a very unique way.

The grandfather had two sons, and each of them also had two sons. In the last half-year of his life, my friend and I visited him every morning and every evening. You see he did not want to go into a retirement home, and apart from getting ready in the morning and in the evening, he did not really need help.
Now I need to explain something real quick. Back in the day we still have mandatory service in the army for 12 months, but there were several ways around it. I will only explain the most common way since it is connected to our story. You see instead of going to the army, you could say you refuse to go to the army for ethical reasons (which was really just a formality, you simply wrote a 1-page essay why you think you being in the army would violate your personal ethics, and they pretty much had to accept it).

BUT that meant you had to go into civil service. Civil service could be any kind of job that in a wider sense that is a service to society. So these jobs ranged from kindergarten to retirement homes and anything in between like hospitals, homes for the physically or mentally disabled, meals on wheels, pretty much anything you can imagine. You would be paid for that time the same amount of money you would get in the army, and had the right to certain perks like a free room, health insurance, work clothes, etc. the same stuff any soldier gets. Plus since soldiers get free food, you either got free food or a food allowance. I did my time in a retirement home, and it was an awesome experience.

I think a job like that really broadens your horizon as a young arrogant brat, and really matures you and shows you what is actually important in life.
Back to the story. I was just done with my time in the retirement home, and for one year, simply wanted to job around and make some money. Then one of my best friends comes to me and tells me he needs my help. His grandpa can no longer do everything by himself, but really only needs help in the morning to get ready and in the evening. Since I have learned how to do this from real professionals, he asks me to show him, so his grandpa does not yet have to go into a retirement home (he later admitted grandpa said he would rather kill himself then get into a nursing home, and he seemed really serious about it.

He did not tell me at the time since he did not want to pressure me in to help like that, which I really appreciated).
He was one of my best friends, and I really liked his grandpa (when I was younger, I did not have a grandpa, but we visited him all the time and I became his unofficial 5th grandson) so of course, I said yes. The original plan was to show him for 2-3 weeks and then observe him for another 2-3 weeks, then he would do it on his own. But we ended up doing it together for over half a year, then grandpa had a stroke and died within 2 days in the hospital.

Only days later my friend asked me to come with him to the lawyer.

His grandfather had specifically asked that his will should be read the day before he gets buried, which is quite unusual, but not illegal. I asked why he wanted me there, and he told me the lawyer had officially invited me since grandpa had left me something as a thank you for my service. I was a bit embarrassed, but also happy that grandpa had thought so highly of my service he even put me in his last will.
Now my friend’s dad is an entitled ****** and the same goes for his uncle. We arrived there and went into the room.

Dad (to me): ‘Why the **** are you here? I know that dad called you his 5th grandkid, in jest, but this is for real family!’

Uncle: ‘I bet the little gold digger hoped he would get some money in the will.’

Me: ‘I was asked to be here by the lawyer, take it up with him.

I have no idea why I am here.’

Dad: ‘IF YOU PULLED SOMETHING TO GET TO HIS MONEY, I WILL SUE YOU SO HARD EVEN YOUR KIDS WILL STILL NEED LAWYERS.’
Friend: ‘Show some respect and stop shouting. I know you 2 did not really give a crap about your dad but show at least a minimum of respect.’

Uncle: ‘HOW DARE YOU TALK LIKE THAT TO YOUR ELDERS YOU LITTLE ***.’

Friend: ‘You two get exactly as much respect from me as you showed your own father – NONE.’

He really shouted the last word, and it finally shut the two up.
We sat down and still had to wait for the other 2 grandkids to arrive. They sat right behind us, and what they talked about really made my ***** boil.

Apparently, they had both gotten new cars, new jewelry for the wife and had planned a huge holiday. All that was paid for by credit and they had planned to pay for it with the inheritance. None of then even said a word about missing him, being sad that he died, NOTHING. ONLY me me me me and money, money, money. They seemed to be in competition over who could spend the inheritance faster.
Then finally, we where all there and the lawyer read out a short letter, what I tell you here is a much-shortened version, but the real thing was several pages, but it boils down to this:

In recent years I more and more realized that some people in my family cared a lot more about me than others.

I am especially disappointed in my two sons, but I wanted to be really fair and not biased, so I came up with a point system –

A letter/phonecall: 1 point + 1 extra if it is very long

A visit: 2 points per hour plus 1 point per hour of travel to me and back
Helping me out with something: 3 points per hour

This is the final result over the last 3 years of my life:

Dad: 8 pts.

Uncle: 10 pts.

Uncle’s Kid 1: 150 pts.

Uncle’s Kid 2: 133 pts.

Friend’s Brother: 288 pts.

Friend: 7,341 pts.

Me: 5,883 pts.
My lawyer has already liquidated most of my assets except the house. Once it is sold, the money will be divided by the points, so we know what each point is worth, and then every person gets a share of the money according to his points.

For about a minute you could hear a pin drop, then both Dad and Uncle started shouting at the same time that they knew we would have pulled something and this will would never stand. Of course, they tried to sue (Uncle, his kids and Dad together), but they lost, and there was a secret clause (not really secret, it was simply not read to us that day, so nobody realized it was in there since we all assumed everything was read to us on that day by the lawyer in the will that if someone sues against the will, that person loses his share of the inheritance.
It took nearly 3 years until all the lawsuits were over. I was blown away when we finally got the money, I am not naming a sum, but it was way more than I felt comfortable accepting, so I wanted to give at least some of it to the other three grandkids, but my friend finally convinced me to accept by saying to me: ‘You cared for him when he needed you, without expecting anything for it, which makes you 10 times more his family than any of those ******.

They got what they deserved.'” hicctl
4. Steal My Toiletries? I’ll Set Up A ***** Trap

“So in 2010, I was a recent college graduate who joined the Peace Corps (a US volunteer program where Americans go to a remote location of a developing country to work on specific development projects). It’s not a paid program, but I did receive about $200 USD per month.
I was living in Zambia as the only non-Zambian for about 30 km. I lived in the same type of house like the locals (a mud hut, no electricity, no running water). My bathroom was a separate structure behind my house… basically, a hole in the ground, surrounded by 4 mud-brick walls (about 6ft by 6ft), and next to it was my bathing shelter built basically the same way without the hole.

I had some sticks tied to the ceiling that acted as a towel rack, a small mirror, and a few makeshift shelves that were a few sticks bunched together and fastened to the wall (important later).
Despite what many may assume, it was amazing. Zambia is beautiful and filled with amazingly kind people…mostly, that is.

About 6 months into living there, I began to notice that someone was entering my bathing shelter at night and stealing my soap.

This wasn’t a big deal, as soap isn’t expensive for me, so I figured if someone stole it, they probably just couldn’t afford soap (living in a rural farming community, that’s a real possibility). After all, they always left the shampoo (more expensive) and the mirror.

This happened on and off for a few weeks… Eventually, I ended up just bringing my soap inside my home after my bucket bath, so I wouldn’t have to ride 15km on my bike to get more soap at the markets. I thought this would end the problem…and it did for a bit…
Then one day I was boiling water, prepping for my bucket bath. I dropped off my soap and shampoo in the bathing shelter, then returned to the pot of water, waiting for it to heat up. I go back to my bathing shelter and both the soap and shampoo are gone. This was not 10 meters from where I was standing. The fact that someone crept into the bathing shelter when I was right there p*ssed.

Me Off.

Whatever… 15 km bike ride to buy more soap at the market. 15 km back.
I’m angry on that bike ride… And this anger causes me to brainstorm retaliation during this 30 km round trip ride, in the blistering heat. My brain thinks back to the days of ‘Home Alone’ (the movie) and all the traps I made as a kid, inspired by a young Macaulay Culkin. I don’t hunt, but I was a mischievous little brat, so I’m uncommonly good at making **********.
I arrived home that day (with extra soap and shampoo this time). I had finally cooled off and decided building a trap would be an overreaction. I boiled water, prepped for my overdue bath, and brought my new soap into the bathing shelter.

Horror met me at the door.

The mirror, gone. The towel rack and shelf (literally just sticks), gone. Shampoo, gone. A big piece of ***, sitting right in the middle of the floor.

I was infuriated.

This wasn’t just a poor kid taking soap, this was someone **** with me. STICKS? YOU STOLE STICKS? AND YOU *** HERE WHEN THERE IS A TOILET LITERALLY NEXT DOOR?
I remember a quote from Home Alone: ‘This is my house, I have to defend it.’
Step 1: I had a hunch the kids in my village wouldn’t be this bold (and that poop was certainly adult-sized), but I needed verification before calibrating the intensity of my trap. So I dumped a bucket of water on the dirt in front of my bathing shelter after every day’s bath.

Eventually, I found what I was looking for when the thief left adult-sized footprints in the mud. This confirmed it wasn’t a kid, and it was just one person who dropped in every few evenings.
Step 2: Send a warning. I told all my neighbors to keep away from my bathing shelter because a thief has been coming by and I am going to make a trap (I hoped it was one of them and that this would be enough to end things, or that word would spread to the thief). Nope, I kept finding muddy footprints every few days.

Step 3: Set trap.
I made another bike trip to the market to buy:

– ‘Rub On’ which is IcyHot without the cooling effect
– Red powder
– Hot sauce
– Rope
– Thin, but durable, string

I removed half of the shampoo from the new bottle, mixing in hot sauce, red powder, and RubOn… If the thief bypassed my trap, this would ensure they receive some regret when they use the stolen goods.

But for the main trap, I created a trip wire and a release (made from two carved sticks). The tripwire ran across the doorway, about shin-height, and then ran up the wall attached to a pendulum. The pendulum had a BRICK affixed to it. Now, I didn’t want to kill anyone over soap, so I made sure to make the pendulum swing at that sweet spot… just about balls to chest height… no chance of hitting someone’s head or knees.

For good measure, I attached one of those alarm key chains to the tripwire (One of those ************** keychains that blast a very loud alarm if you remove the pin), so I could confront the perpetrator in the act.
Eight days passed, with no attempt to rob my bathing shelter.

No footprints either. I never considered removing the trap, I knew he’d eventually come.
I was deep in a slumber one night when I heard something thud, then a man’s high-pitched yelp/gasp! No alarm rang, but I knew that had to be the sound of a brick hitting a man straight in the balls!

I grabbed my light and ran outside, only to see a man, bent over, struggling to hustle away.

I inspected the bathing shelter. The brick hung dangling in the doorway, having deployed perfectly. The alarm was missing and so was the tainted shampoo bottle.
From the evidence, I determined that the man thought my trap was only a simple alarm. He simply cut the alarm keychain off from the string it was tied to, probably thinking that was the only purpose of the string.

He then walked into the trip wire and was nailed in the balls by a swinging brick. When he heard me running towards him, he grabbed the shampoo and, still bent over with the feeling of balls in his stomach, he hurried away.
I can then assume he used the shampoo and was met with a hot sensation from the hot sauce and Rub On. I hoped the red dye from the powder would help identify him by dying his clothes red if he used to soap to also wash clothes, but that never ended up working out.
However, for the rest of my time there, no one else f*cked with my bathing shelter.

I guess he gave up after that. He wasn’t thirsty for more.” Source
3. Dump Your Child In A Bookstore? Lose Custody Really Quick

“I used to work in a small chain of Bookstores/Stationery shops.

We’d sell books, pens, paper and so on. It was a quirky little store, straight out of a romantic love novella (or a Stephen King book, if you prefer).

Mom walks into the store with Little Girl. It’s rather early in the morning. Mom looks around and asks me if I could watch her child.
Me: ‘Oh no, I’m terrible with children, sorry.’

Mom tells me that it’s not for that long and I shouldn’t make such a fuss about it. I still politely refuse. It’s not my job to watch children, I’m afraid to do something wrong.

So what happens? Mom leaves the store. Who do I find hidden in the corner? Little Girl who seems to be rather shy/fearful.
This happened back in a time before everyone had smartphones.

The kid obviously didn’t have a mobile on her, and I suspected the mother also wouldn’t. I wasn’t too surprised that Little Girl didn’t know her home number. I sigh. What are you gonna do? If something happens to that kid while being in the store and you’re the only present employee, you’re gonna have a bad time.
Me: ‘Hey girl, what’s your name?’

Little Girl: ‘(her name)’

Me: ‘I’m (my name and surname).’

Little Girl, happy like only kids can be if they think they did something smart or they knew something: “My surname is (surname).”

Now, this rang a bell. I had a good customer with the same surname. It turns out he’s her dad. I didn’t get paid enough to babysit. In fact, I didn’t even get paid enough to do my normal work.

I call her dad at his workplace since we saved that number in our system. The call went along the lines of:

Me: ‘Hi Nice Dad, it’s Me from bookstore XY.’
Nice Dad: ‘Oh hi (me), how’s it going? I don’t remember having any open orders.’

Me: ‘Yeah, erm, look, listen, do you have a daughter?’

Nice Dad, confused: ‘Yes, why do you ask?’

Me: ‘What’s her name?’ (I just wanted to ensure its really her dad and not just a stupid coincidence.)

Nice Dad apologizes for Mom’s behavior and tells me he’s gonna pick Little Girl up as soon as possible.

While waiting for Nice Dad, I picked up one of our sale-books (box with damaged books that we try to sell with huge discount before throwing away).

It’s a picture book from Disney. Little Girl tries to read a little, I read a little.
Nice Dad arrives, Little Girl runs to him and hugs him, crying that mommy was mean to her. Nice Dad soothes her and thanks me for babysitting her. He gives me a bottle of wine and buys something small from the store.
Nice Dad: ‘If Mom shows up again, could you NOT tell her that I picked up Little Girl?’

Me: ‘What. Why?’

Nice Dad: “If you don’t feel like it, you don’t need to. It’s rather complicated and you already did so much for us.”

Nice Dad leaves. In the evening Mom shows up. She dropped Little Girl at about 09:00. It was 17:45.
Mom: ‘Where’s my daughter?’

Me, already chugged about half the bottle of wine and was thus a little boozed: ‘Your WHAT?’

Mom: ‘My daughter.

I dropped her in this store and you were here.’

Me, way too drunk for work (but already decided to go for another job or homeless, both would have been better): ‘YOUR WHAT?’

Mom was on edge, so I did what I thought was the smartest thing to do:

Me: ‘A guy came into the store and picked her up. He seemed nice. Gave me some wine for her.’

At this point, I expected her to explode/attack me, but she just left the store.
A few weeks pass and Nice Dad and Little Girl come to the store. Both happy to see me. Nice Dad asks me if I got a few minutes. An excuse not to work? Obviously, I took the time for…customer service. Gave Little Girl the same book we read the last time and had a talk with Nice Dad.

Mom and Nice Dad where in the middle of a divorce when Mom dropped Little Girl at our store. One of the reasons Nice Dad wanted a divorce was that Mom ‘wasn’t nice’ to Little Girl. Now in my country, as a male, it’s rather hard to get custody for your child. No matter what. Little Girl wanted to be with Nice Dad but that doesn’t matter. Mom dropping Little Girl in our store was a gift from the heavens.
Nice Dad took Little Girl to his sister’s overnight. Mom pretended that Little Girl was sleeping at one of her friend’s houses. Nice Dad wanted to call them just to ensure that Little Girl is fine. Mom didn’t want that. Little Girl’s friend didn’t know where Little Girl was.

Mom claimed she dropped Little Girl at Little Girls friend’s place. Nice Dad faked panic and involved the police. Mom insisted that Little Girl’s friend kidnapped Little Girl. Police asked Nice Dad and Mom separately and Nice Dad told the police what happened. Mom still insisted on her dropping Little Girl at Little Girl’s friend’s house. Nice Dad had proof of it being otherwise since he already called the police when he dropped Little Girl at his sister’s house.
Now in court, Nice Dad apparently said something like, ‘Mom can have all she wants, even my wine collection. I just want to be with my daughter.’ Mom, knowing that Nice Dad didn’t have any money left and had some very expensive wines, agreed.

Daughter ended up with Nice Dad, mother paying alimony. What Mom didn’t know: Nice Dad replaced his wine collection before the divorce with the cheapest wines he could find at different discounters, gifting away the expensive ones. He knew that Mom either is gonna take everything from him or will break his wine collection.

We both laugh. I gifted the book to Little Girl who seemed very happy. When Mom dropped her she was shy, seemed small and now she had such a big smile on her face and was curious for everything. She could read much better than a few weeks ago. She seemed like a bird taking off to fly towards the sun.” ProfessionalDish
2. Pick On Me Because Of Our Family’s Past? Get 5 Years

“Before I begin the story, I would like to say that first and foremost, I regret nothing.

All throughout my time in school I had always been the shy, awkward, quiet kid. Might have some form of undiagnosed autism, not really sure. Anyway, I have never caused trouble with any teachers whatsoever. As a matter of fact, I was the teacher’s pet for quite a few of them. Till I came across Evil Eva that is.

My first run-in with this teacher and the first example of her singling me out was in 5th-grade Computer class. There was a large group of the other children in the class ahead of me and by the looks of her, I thought that she was going to be genuinely nice. She had a sweet smile and looked happy to be there. Then she laid eyes on me, and that smile turned into a look of scorn.

During this first example of her abuse towards me, I was singled out from everyone else and made fun of because I had never used a computer before (poor family and this was going to be a constant theme in her berating me). This was a bit of light teasing, I will admit, but it progressively got worse as the year went on. Getting so bad to the point that if I got out of line even in the slightest little bit for any reason from not sitting properly to coughing or breathing too loud while she spoke, I would get sent to the detention hall for seemingly no apparent reason.
But it gets EVEN worse, it eventually got to the point where she was singling out not only me but everyone I was even remotely associated with.

Further isolating the already shy quiet nervous kid I was. This eventually led to open ridicule and bullying by people I once called friends, much to Evil Eva’s delight.

The year ended, and I thought that surely moving into a separate building on campus would stop me from having to see her ever again. Boy, was I wrong. All the way up until I was almost out of high school, she transferred into each progressive grade seemingly just for the purpose of continuing her campaign against me.
This obviously started to have severe psychological effects on me. Everything from depression and self-harming to cope with the feelings I had deep inside. Me being the quiet reserved person I am, I never told anybody about any of this and just kept it to myself while putting on a brave face.

Now, I didn’t learn why she was singling me out till 8th grade. Turns out, my biological father who came back into the picture a couple of years prior to all this starting had an ex-wife with two kids I knew nothing about. I did some digging and found out I was the oldest of his kids, AND that Evil Eva was ex-wife’s sister. I didn’t quite understand all of this at first… Then it hit me.
Yes, that’s right folks. I was hated for being born.

This realization devastated me. But just before I kicked the stool, I had an idea.

I remembered that my mom had an old voice recorder from when she caught an old boyfriend cheating.
For the next few years, gathering evidence against this putrid excuse for a person was the only thing that kept me sane.

Everything and I mean everything. Detention slips with made up excuses. Voice recordings of her belittling me in front of my class. I even managed to get a clip – ON VIDEO – of her throwing an apple at me in her office and laughing it off like she was playing. But thanks to her good standing in the school, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to paint her as the villain I knew she was unless I got her doing something truly despicable.
Then it happened.
Another rainy morning in April of my Sophomore year. I was walking to school like I usually did. I had just started a test recording like I usually did to double check my recorder was working when the ***** herself came rolling up.

‘Hey, urchin!’

As soon as I heard those words I knew I had her. And I almost failed to keep my elation hidden.

‘Who the ***..?’

‘You’d best watch who you’re talking to you little ***! Or I’ll give you more to worry about then detention!’

‘Why do you do this!? What the **** did I ever do to you?’

‘You existed when your mother clearly should have swallowed, that’s what. Now get in, I wanna make myself look good for picking up the homeless boy in the rain.’
We exchanged a few more stabs at each other and as soon as I reached for the door handle, she sped off, leaving me alone with my prized piece of evidence.

I stopped at the recording as soon as she was out of sight and began laughing madly to myself all the way to the school building.

I was still chuckling all day long that day. Even during her usual tongue lashing, which upset her all the more. Didn’t matter, I had exactly what I needed. And the next day I showed up to school a full two hours early, to make sure that I could meet the woman who was going to be my savior before her day got busy. School Superintendent Mrs. Caster.
With me, I had brought my binders of detention slips, notebooks detailing times and places where I was when the abuse would happen inside and outside of school, three flash drives worth of voice recordings and of the voice recorder itself with ‘your mother should’ve swallowed’ queued up and ready to play.

When Mrs. Caster arrived, I immediately broke down into rage-filled tears.

It was at least 30 minutes before I was finally able to calm down enough to explain everything. At first, she didn’t believe me, until I played the voice recording for her.

By far the sweetest part of this entire ordeal was watching the look of doubt on her face change to one of anger. Police were brought up to the school to take my statement and gather the evidence. I was sent home for the rest of the day and Mrs. Caster assured me that I wouldn’t have any makeup work to take care of when I got back the next day.
It was over. That sorry excuse for a human being got five years and lost her teacher’s license for good.

I transferred to another school out of state and haven’t looked back since. I’m 27 now. Healthy-ish. After a whole lot of self-healing and soul-searching, I managed to find a way to turn my negative experience into something that strengthens me. I have found a faith that suits me and what I already believed. I even managed to land a girlfriend of two years who I intend to wife soon. CaptnNuttSack

1. Abuse Me My Entire Life? Watch Your Life Burn To The Ground

“I started out life in poverty living with my parents in a house that had some wooden floors and mostly dirt floors. My mother has a long list of mental issues and my father was an alcoholic but thankfully not the abusive type.

My sister and I were taken from our home when I was 7 and she was 4. We got placed in the foster care system in Kentucky.
The Foster Family

The foster home we went to was run by a woman we’ll call Linda and she was a widow. Her husband had passed away in the 80s. She had 4x sons and 1x daughter. Her youngest son we’ll call Jay was still living with her because he had fallen from a truck when he was a kid and damaged his skull. This caused him to have a learning disability and he couldn’t read or write and at the time of me living with them, he was about 26 years old. Her other son Chase was the oldest and he was a plumber.

Another son is Dean and he owned five large farms and ran a grocery store. The fourth son was Cody and he died in the 80s from being shot. Her only daughter was Sandy and she was very kind to us.
The Beginning

When we entered the foster care system it was a really scary time for us and I’ll never forget the screams of our parents as they ripped us from our home. Because we didn’t have running water and electricity the old barn converted into a house wasn’t suitable for children according to our social worker. When I first arrived I had broken my wrist and had my arm in a cast. The first thing we did was go shopping for clothes as I didn’t bring any with me.

When we return from shopping I put my things away and was then given a trash bag and told to go outside and not come back in until all of the loose trash was picked up. Just to let you know now, this was more of a work camp instead of a loving and caring home. While I was picking up trash, Jay was in the swimming pool they had beside the home. He yelled for me to come to him and he asked me if I wanted to swim. I told him I didn’t know how to swim and I can’t because of my obvious broken arm. He then grabbed me and tossed me into the pool and I screamed for help.

I really felt like I was going to die that day. He took his time but jumped in and pulled me out. He told me to stop crying as if I would have drowned no one would have cared because I didn’t matter. I remember his words like it was yesterday. When I finally got to bed that night I couldn’t sleep and I cried the whole night missing my parents. Little did I know this was just the beginning of a hard 12 years of life to come.
Being told that you were worthless; didn’t matter to anyone; you’ll never be anything; was commonly said from Jay and Linda as they used that to demoralize the kids. They treated all of the foster kids this way and would tell us we are lucky to be living with them as this is the only way we wouldn’t be in jail or dead.

They told us if we ever left we would end up in and out of jail because we are just as worthless as our parents. Anytime any of the kids wanted to do any after-school event or even play sports they would tell them they don’t matter or will never be anything so why waste the time now. I was also threatened to be put into a boy’s home away from my sister if I ever told anyone about how Linda treated us. At a young age, you don’t know any better sadly and you’re too scared to think otherwise.
All of the boys worked on Dean’s farms and we didn’t get to bed until about 11 PM. We got up every morning at 4A M to do farm work with feeding cows, chickens, and pigs.

After we finished our work in the morning, we had to quickly scramble to get cleaned up for school as the bus arrived at 6:20ish AM every day. You never had time to do any school work after you got home because you had to eat and then get back outside. It made passing classes in school really hard because I only had the bus ride home to get my homework done. Dean had lots of tobacco farms and as you can image, he was doing really well for himself because he had free labor all year long. Raising tobacco isn’t an easy job by any means and it’s even harder when you’re just a kid. This kind of life went on for the whole time I was at the home and nothing ever got better.

Remember that this foster home keeps boys and girls from all walks of life. Also, remember that Linda’s 20-something son Jay lives with her as well. One night I was up going to the bathroom when I could hear faint crying. The crying was coming from the girl’s room and I went to find out what was wrong. I opened the door to find Jay having ****** relations with a girl that was about 16 years old or so. I ran to tell Linda and he quickly ran out of the room after me. All of the noise woke Linda up and Jay told her the caught me sneaking into the girl’s room. At this point, I’m about ten years old or so and I try to explain to her what happened.

She told me I’m telling lies and I should be ashamed of myself. She told me Jay would never do such a thing and I was in serious trouble tomorrow. I talked with the girl on the school bus the next morning and she said it was her idea to hook up. She told me she had been flirting with him and she was hungry for it. I told her I was going to tell the social workers and she said if I did, she would claim it never happened. When I did get home I was punished to clean out this old crappy garbage bin they have behind the home and it was full of loose garbage from bags getting ripped.

The garbage bin was built of wood pallets and it was really large. They refused to give me any gloves to pick up the trash and as you might know, trash normally has food in it too. Of course, all of this is rotten and full of maggots. It took me about six hours to clean it out.
Later that week when we went to the social worker’s office for our visitation with my parents I told the social worker what happened to the girl and she pulled me into a private room to talk about it. I told her everything that was happening and she told me she’ll stop by tomorrow after we get home from school for a surprise visit.

What I found out later in life is that the social workers in my county hated conflict and paperwork, so they would always give the foster homes a heads up on visits. The next day when we arrived home, her car was sitting in our driveway. When I walked in she took the girl out to her car to have a talk. While the social worker was away, Linda tells me she knows what I’ve done and I’m going to wish I had never opened my mouth. The social worker comes back with the girl and sits in the living room with Linda, Jay, me and all of the other foster kids. She goes on to tell us the importance of telling the truth and makes an example out of me.

She told the other kids not to tell lies like I do as it causes un-needed stress and issues for everyone. After she left Linda told me she’s going to make me pay for this and it might not be today but one day (remember this phrase).
Getting Adopted and Physical Abuse

When I turned 16 I had been in the foster care system for about 8 years and my parents finally signed us over to the state. My social worker told me she’s going to place us in line to be adopted and we will be visiting with new parents in the following weeks. I was very heart broken but I was also excited as I couldn’t wait to get away from Linda and her family.

Weeks go by and we never get to visit anyone and I started to get worried. One day Linda comes to school to pick us up and tells us we are getting adopted today! I was really confused because we hadn’t met with anyone. We arrive at the social worker’s office and go in with Linda. We go into a room where my parents are and paperwork is on the table. Because I was 16, I had to sign paperwork stating that I understood what was going on. The social worker tells me Linda is going to adopt us and I start crying on the spot. I tell them I would rather be dead than to be adopted by her and the social worker told me she understands my anger because I hate to obey rules.

She was convinced that I was hating Linda because I was a rebel and the normal teenager who hated following rules at this age. I told her that’s not true and she said she knows it to be true and she doesn’t want to hear me tell any more lies. My parents are both crying and they have already signed the paperwork weeks ago. Linda signs hers and I refused to sign mine. The social worker told me if I don’t sign it, it doesn’t change anything as I’ll still be adopted by Linda.
On the way home from the social worker’s office Linda looks up in the mirror and gives me a long gaze that I’ll never forget. She then says, ‘I told you one day you’ll pay for what you’ve done and that day has arrived.’ I felt chills run down my spine and I was really in complete shock.

Even as I type this out now I still get that same chill running down my spine and I can see her eye’s glaring at me in the mirror. Now that she adopted me and my sister we were no longer protected by the foster care system. With foster kids, you’re not allowed to lay a hand on them to discipline them and now that we are adopted that’s out the window. Now, more abuse starts that we never had before. Now when Linda gets mad she would throw things at me, hit me with coffee cups, remote controls, chairs or anything else she could get her hands on. Jay then began to beat me like I was a man when I talked back to him or not doing what he said the second he said it.

At this point, I felt broken and alone. My sister was treated like a princess and it’s because she arrived at the home when she was 4, so she only knows Linda as her only parent and always did what she commanded. My sister at the time had no real understanding of who Linda was and how awful her family was. My sister was over the moon about being adopted and having Linda’s last name. My sister was basically brainwashed into thinking Linda could do no wrong and that I was just a troublemaker. I felt like I had lost the only family I had, she was my everything and I sacrificed so much because I never wanted to be separated from her.

My grand plan in life was to turn 18 and go live with my parents away from Linda and her family. It wasn’t long after I was adopted that my father was diagnosed with cancer in his throat. I was crushed by this news as my father was my hero. I was only with my parents until the age of 7, but they truly loved us and provided for us the best they could. My parents had never raised a hand to us growing up and treated us with the love kids need. My sister and I had monthly visits with our parents while in foster care and never missed any of them. We would get dropped off at the social worker’s office where our parents would walk with us to the local park and play.

They didn’t have a car or anything and used a local program for people in poverty to get access to transpiration. We had a local program ran by the county that would pick people up and drive them to the grocery store, doctor visits, and court. It was like Uber but it was limited as to where they would take you and how often.
My uncle is helping my parents the most that he can and he takes my father for all of this chemo treatments. He is also coming to Linda’s to pick us up to go and see my parents. At this point, we’re doing home visits with my parents as it’s not easy for my father to travel. My father has been fighting with cancer for a little over a year at this point.

One day, we are home for a visit with my father and he’s in really bad shape. While he was gone for a chemo treatment someone broke into his house and stole all of his pain medication. My uncle tried to get the medication refilled and was turned away because they didn’t have a police report. My father knew who stole the pills and didn’t want to turn him in as cops to poor people is the enemy. I was in art class and was called to the front office to take a call. My uncle had called to tell me my father tried to kill himself and he’s being transported to the hospital. He told me he was on his way to pick me and my sister up to go see him.

My father lasted a few days and passed away from his liver shutting down. I was able to see him before he died and he could squeeze my hand to let me know he could understand me. I made sure to tell him how much I loved him and I promise to make him proud. I’m telling this part of the story because of how Linda and her family treated me afterward. They told me that deadbeats like my father are lazy people who draw a check every month paid for by working people. They said it’s a good thing he’s dead and now my mother needs to drop dead as she draws a check too. They told me this on the way home from the hospital! I sit in the main back of the van in silence and not shedding a tear.

I was no longer going to let them control me and keep me down. I made a promise to myself that I will do everything in my power to be better than them and one day I would show them what my pain feels like. My father passed away on October 25th, 12 days before I would turn 18 on Nov 7th. My mother was soon after awarded to the state and placed into a nursing home due to her mental issues.
Making It on My Own

The day after we put my father to rest, I started working with my uncle painting barns and sealing driveways. When I lived with my parents I missed too much school when I was in the first grade and failed.

So getting out of high school I would be 19 years old. I had plans to go to Houston TX and learn underwater welding as that’s where the money was. My uncle was paying me even on days we didn’t find any work to make sure I had enough money to make it on my own. I had saved up about $1,200 and graduated high school. My uncle had paid a driver to take me and Linda down to TX. Linda had to go with me because I was under the age of 25 and she had to sign paper work stating she wouldn’t be helping me with any student loans. We set out for TX and we are driving her van as my uncle’s truck had broken down the day before and he only had his huge work truck that wouldn’t be feasible to take.

We get about 4 hours into the trip and Linda is getting frustrated. She told us she’s tired of being in the van and she no longer wants to do this. She orders the driver to pull over in the next city. He does as she says because it’s her van and she kicks me out onto a sidewalk. I have a bag of cloths and $1,200 in my pocket. They then take off and I watch them drive away and I keep watching for a few moments to make sure they are not coming back.
I felt a relief sensation rush over my body, I’m free! I’m finally free! Of course, this isn’t where I wanted to be at as 4 hours south of Kentucky isn’t TX at all.

I picked up my bag and walked up to the sidewalk and I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to do. I could get a bus ticket and make my way down to TX but I don’t have the first idea where a bus station is. Please understand that I had never been outside of my home town before this. I had never even met a person of any other race before. All I’ve ever done was go to school and work on a farm. I had no real education and hardly made it out of school.
I come across a school in a shopping center and I decided to check it out. The school isn’t even around today and was shut down because it was a for-profit school that gave you no value, and of course, I had no idea at the time.

I walk in and talked with the front desk about getting info on the school. She sends me to talk with a lady in admissions and I explain to her my situation. She tells me how I can get funding to go here and how she can get my housing tonight. They had a school housing program where they would put four students in a two bedroom apartment. She had me forge Linda’s signature on the paperwork about financial aid. I go to this two-year college and get an Associates Degree in Computer Science. I start working for a major computer company right out of college. I save every dime I can and only spend money when I need to. I buy my first truck with cash a year after starting at my job.

My Second Revenge

I was still keeping tabs on my sister back in Kentucky. At this point, my sister is about to get married and I’m going to walk her down the aisle at the church Linda always took us to growing up. Please understand that Linda is a big figure at her church and well respected, this is important to understand for later. I drive up the weekend of the wedding and get a hotel room about an hour outside of where we grew up. My sister’s best friend in the world (and that’s even true today) calls me. We’ll call her KB. She tells me that my sister’s fiance is abusive to her and she wants to call the wedding off but Linda told her she couldn’t and not to embarrass her at the church.

Linda knows that he’s abusive to my sister and has told her she needs to obey him as he will be her husband.
On the day of the wedding, I walk my sister down the aisle like normal. The pastor does his thing and says some words and what not then comes the part where he asks if anyone thinks they shouldn’t be married they must speak now. This is where I stand up and say, ‘I object to my sister being married to an abusive drunk.’ You could hear a pin drop for a moment and Linda’s face is ***** red. I then go on to say how Linda had known about the abuse and told my sister she was going to get married no matter what and not to ’embarrass her”‘here today.

Linda then loudly exclaims that I’m a known liar and everyone knows they can’t believe a word I say. The pastor at this point asks me to please leave and my sister spoke up for me. Telling everyone that what I had said was the truth and we ran out of the church together. KB was later removed from the church management and asked to please not come back to the church as they don’t believe in abuse (I know what you’re thinking). Oh man, I wish I could have been in the pastor’s office to hear this conversation and to see the look on her face. After all of this happened my sister moved in with KB where she would later meet her husband.

The Final Revenge

It had been about 7 years now from the wedding crash. I’m now married and I have a house of my own and living a great life. My sister had married a real man who treats her right and they have a great little girl together. KB is now working at the county courthouse and does a lot of work with properties and taxes. She calls me one day to tell me Linda’s property tax is way behind and they didn’t get the tax lien lifted and now they will have a tax deed sale of the property. I knew this was my time to strike and pay them back for a fraction of the pain they had caused me.

I show up at the auction and the only other person to show up was Jay and his wife.
When he noticed me he turned pale and then tried to be all buddy-buddy with me. I was very friendly and he asked me why I’m here. I tell him it’s to help keep the property in the family (the property had been in the family for more than 100 years) and I had no problem helping out. I let him know if I get ownership I’ll pay the taxes for them so they won’t need to worry about this being a problem ever again. His brother Dean had given him the money needed to purchase the property back so he had cash with him to pay for the taxes and fees.

I told him to keep the cash and let them know you took care of the taxes. So the bidding starts at a little over $2,000 because of the back due taxes and fees. I bid on it and Jay doesn’t. I easily win and now have instant ownership of the propriety. I go down the courthouse with Jay and I finish all of the paperwork with KB.
Linda had fallen behind on the property taxes because she was giving the money to Jay to pay it. Well, it turns out Jay is what we call a ‘pill head’ and was using the money to buy *****. Linda didn’t keep foster kids anymore because of her age she wasn’t allowed to so they didn’t have any money coming in besides disability and SSI.

When I arrived at the house, I told Linda how I regret being a horrible child and now that I’m older I’ve grown out of it. I let her know how much of a mother she was to me when I didn’t have one and that I was here to pay her back. I told her now that I own the property she’ll never need to worry about property taxes ever again. I let her know I’m going to remodel her house but she can’t live in it at the same time. I told her this works out because I won the bid so the county would automatically evict them. Linda is a person who thinks we’ve never been to the moon, so tricking her into believing me was easy.

She told me she could stay at Dean’s house while I’m remodeling hers and she was very excited. I told her not to worry about any of the belongings they have as I’ll make sure they are covered up and moved when needed. I tell her a lawyer will be sending some paperwork over to her in a few days. I then hire a lawyer to do an ejectment of Linda and Jay from the property. I don’t know if I could have done this a different way, but this was the advice I was given at the time. It took about two months for everything to be fully mine and them evicted. With them evicted and all the belongings still in the house past 30 days, I now own all of it.

I got in contact with the local fire department to find out what I needed to do in order to burn a house down on my property. They informed me that it has to be a controlled burn. I’ll need a permit to close off the road as the home sits near a public road and I had to have the water shut off and the power disconnected. The water was easy but it took a while for the power because they had to remove all the wires running to the pole and remove the transformer. The fire department gave me a date and time I was allowed to do the burning and I coordinated with the sheriff’s office to close the road.

I got my permit from the city and now I just had to sit and wait.
On the day of the great fire, I prep the house with lots of straw inside and I made sure to take all of the doors down and open all of the windows as I wanted this to burn as fast as possible. I go to Dean’s house to visit Jay and Linda. I told them I wanted to take them out by the old oak tree for lunch. This tree was in a field across the road from the home. When we worked on the farm we would eat lunch in the summer under the shade of this tree. Linda is in a wheelchair and Jay has a bad back so he doesn’t move around too well and almost needs a wheelchair.

I drop them off and I tell them to enjoy the snacks and I’ll be right back as I’m going to set fire to the old stuff I ripped out of the house. It’s really common for people where we live to burn trash. I called the fire department to let them know I was going to start the fire and made sure they had the address. I met with the officers closing the road off let them know I was about to begin and they might encounter some family members trying to get by them and not to let them. I then went behind and started fires from under the house with packed straw. I’m standing beside them while they eat and chat with me about life and what I’ve been doing with my career.

It’s not too long before the fire starts to peek around the sides of the home. They start screaming about the fire and we need to call 911. This is when I told them I had the road closed and the fire department already knew that I was going to burn my house down on my property. I told them what they are seeing is just a fraction of the pain they had caused me over the course of my life and I want them to know what a fraction of my pain feels like as I could never fully make them understand.
At this point, Jay is trying to call his brothers and I reminded him I have the road closed and they can’t get by.

It takes less than 20 minutes for the house to collapse into a heap of junk. The whole time I’m watching them as they sit and sob. Jay tries to fight me and I would just move away from him as he’s high and can’t really move well anyway. About 30 minutes pass and the fire is gone with just smoke and embers glowing. I get in my car and drive back home knowing that they have now lost almost everything they have. They didn’t lose as much as I have, but it was the closest thing to it.
Closing

Linda passed away in 2010 and Jay lives with this wife in an old trailer somewhere. I still own the property today and refuse to sell it to anyone because I don’t want them to ever have the chance of owning the property again.

I go back every year to check on the property to make sure they haven’t moved a trailer on it or something on my land. From my understanding, I haven’t talked to any of them and never plan to.If you can help anyone that you know that’s being abused please, please help them get help.” Citrow
Whoa now. How’s that for some seriously plotted, schemed and deliberate revenge served a la pro-style? Does the punishment fit the crime? Were these too intense or perfectly suited? Tell us if you’ve ever hatched an act of revenge like this!