I think at some point in time, we’ve all had a person we’ve considered our enemy. That enemy might have been a previous friend, a past lover, a classmate, a particular boss or manager, a co-worker, a family member we don’t like, or a rude neighbor. Sometimes they’re even a current significant other or current friend.
But how do enemies even become our enemies? Maybe they’ve backstabbed us, cheated on us, stole something or someone from us, or sabotaged us in some shape or form. Other times, the reason may be vague. Sometimes we just don’t get along with certain people right from the get-go. For example, maybe when you moved houses, your next-door neighbor automatically held a grudge against you for no apparent reason, and you’ve been feuding for years because of it (Who the heck has time for drama these days?!).
At some point, you might decide to take action with your foe in an effort to end the energy-draining quarrel once in for all. Will you finally call a truce with your enemy? Or, will you instead decide to get revenge on them? We’ll all react differently. However, the latter is exactly what the people in these stories chose to do personally.
Some of these folks leave their frenemies with massive monetary fines, make them lose their job or business, or have them sent to jail.
Trust me, it’s all good stuff. Read on for some top choice revenge stories below!
11. You Want To Cut Promised Bonuses From Employees? Expect Mutiny
In 2000, I was working for a financial firm: 1800 employees, with a sales force of 200. I was one of the salesmen. We had our annual meeting in April.
It was a big affair. Most of the employees attended, and the CEO gave a big speech about how the previous year was the best in the company’s history, blah blah blah. The next month, May, we each submitted memos basically justifying why we qualified for – or should qualify for – bonuses at the end of June.
Our compensation is based on a predetermined formula. You sell X amount, you get X bonus. You sell Y amount, you sell Y bonus.
It wasn’t one amount; it was set at different tiers. It was a predetermined formula in black and white. Everyone on the sales floor had a copy. If you didn’t make your bonus, you knew exactly why, and by what amount you missed it.
The company had been around over 30 years by then and was known for generous compensation and had never before played games with bonuses or payments.
So I wrote out my memo, as per usual, explained the sales growth in my territory over the course of the previous 12 months, and what percentage my sales were out of last year’s total sales.
Coming off the company’s best year ever, it should have been a slam dunk, right? All of us were excited about how much we’d have coming in June.
June rolls around and my bonus is zero. ZERO. But it’s not just me. It’s all over the sales floor. Less than 20% of the sales force got bonuses, and holy **** everyone was P*SSED. All the supervisors were dealing with angry subordinates, the sales manager was too, and even the VP and director above him.
Everyone was furious and insubordinate, angry accusatory emails were flying, and the company was facing a mutiny. It got worse when it came out that the supervisors were offered bonuses that they could determine for themselves. Most of them took them but a couple – knowing their subordinates wouldn’t be getting anything – refused. My supervisor took his.
When it came out, he tried to explain to his sales team about how he felt it was justified and how hard he worked.
He ended up with people screaming at him about how they felt the same but they didn’t get jack ***.
So* for a week or so, things on the floor came to a stop. A lot of people just didn’t show up and the ones that did were angry. I came in and started reading Monster.com ads at my desk. I also stopped selling anything or answering my phone. When confronted by my boss, I told him that as soon as I got the bonus my sales justified, I’d start working again.
Until then I’d be coming in late, reading and responding to want ads, and leaving early. He could expect me to keep that up until I found another job or was fired.
The following day I was sent to the regional sales manager’s office. She said she’d heard about my work stoppage and asked me to explain myself. I told her that if she heard about it from my supervisor, then she already knew why I wasn’t working and I didn’t need to explain it again.
She tried buddying up to me, being friendly, then being stern, then being angry.
I kept my composure and told her that the longer the company held out on my bonus, the longer it was going to miss out on sales from my territory. I then gave her my average daily amount of sales from the previous year, quantified what the total loss would be for a week of me not selling, and how much cheaper it would be just to pay me the money I was owed and get me back to selling.
Then I thanked her for her time and told her I’d be leaving work as soon as I left her office. And I did.
The following day I came in, checked my emails – some of which were farewell emails from coworkers who quit over their stolen bonuses – and sat on monster.com until I was told to go to the office of the national sales manager. He’s the gatekeeper – he’s in charge of all 200 of us.
He told me he understood that I was upset, and could see why. I asked him if withholding the bonuses from 80% of his sales force was his idea or someone else’s. He didn’t answer. He did tell me that I would be getting a check on Monday, and could I please go back to work now? I told him I’d be going back to my desk, but work wouldn’t start until the check was in my hand.
When I went back and checked my emails – yup, more defections.
The next day an email went out to the entire salesforce: management had taken a look at the numbers, re-evaluated the financials, and determined that June bonuses would be issued shortly. The email also apologized for the delay and reminded us that as salesmen, we were the core of the company and our hard work was appreciated. I also received another email, this time from the national sales manager, who told me while bonuses were scheduled for Monday, he’d be walking my check to my desk the following day.
The following day I showed up, sat down, and shortly afterward the national sales manager walked on up and handed me my bonus check. I thanked him and handed him my resignation effective immediately. In my resignation letter, I requested that a check for my unused vacation time please be cut and given to me before I left the building. When he finished reading it I told him I’d clean out my desk while I waited for the vacation check.
While I was doing that, one of my coworkers also resigned effective immediately. We were walked out at the same time and ended up getting drunk at the bar across the street.
I learned later from coworkers that remained that even though the company issued the bonuses, they lost about 20% of the sales force in the following two months.
Gotta love corporate greed.”InertiasCreep
10. Steal $25,000 From Me? It’ll Cost You Half A Million Dollars
“I was married to a very OCD and pragmatic man.
For example, for him, a big romantic gesture had been to leave me alone for 24 hours at the hospital right after I had our son, so he could go pay bills and mow the lawn (20 years later I do understand he really did express love this way. But that’s another story)
I was in dire need of physical contact because he’d never touched me unless he wanted (very bland) ***, and also never ever kissed me.
The story is not about him, it’s only a preamble
So, I divorced him, not just for what’s above mind you, I felt alone and unloved in this relationship. I just wrote about it to explain the state of mind I was in when I met this other person that we’ll call PS.
PS was the total opposite, he was very in tune with his emotions, he was very, very intense (this will be important later).
He really expressed love as I **thought** I needed.
On our first time out, the waitress asked how long we had been together since he was so into me and touching me.
He made me feel amazing. He had a huge house and a rather flashy lifestyle, so I assumed he was really well off. He told me he owned a car wash and a phone marketing company.
Fast forward a bit, at this point we had been going out for about a year, and he had just asked me (and my son) to move in with him.
I wasn’t 100% sure but he prepared the room for my son nonetheless. As I started spending more time in his house (still keeping mine) I also started to see strange behavior. He’d be up all night but sleep all day, I also overheard a few phone calls where I was telling people they owed money and needed to pay but the conversations didn’t fit with a carwash or phone marketing business.
At some point, he told me he was having money problems.
He said huge clients were late in paying and that is was jeopardizing his house payments. So, I, stupid me, offered to help, I’m missing a part of this story because it started as me offering help with the house since we were there a lot (still had my house tho) but it ended up with me lending him 25K.
I cannot for the life of me remember that progression.
The loan was supposed to be for 3 weeks he said.
I’d have it all back in 3 weeks. 3 weeks…
That 25k$ came from my retirement savings/son’s college money, so I had to pay a fine to access it.
It’s also money it took me 10 years to put aside. That money was very important to me.
During those 3 weeks, I went out to have drinks with my friends… and found him out with another woman. I saw him French kissing another woman… I said nothing, went to his house, packed my **** and left.
So anyway, I thought he’d be an adult and would still reimburse the 25k the end of these 3 weeks. Big mistake.
Someone I knew told me he was glad I left and proceeded to tell me about him, he said PS was a junky, hooked on GHB, hence why he was so intense and so into his emotions. That also explained the erratic sleep/night patterns but the final blow what when he told me PS was also a con man.
A “Specialist” in defrauding older people by phone, his so-called “phone marketing company.”
In the beginning, I wasn’t sure I believed it, but then bits of what I had overheard in the last year started to make sense, And I realized it was all true.
Back to this later.
I tried having my money back many different ways, none worked, I was at the end of my rope, and since it was in my years post-divorce (and right after the 2008-2009 economic crash as well) I was poor as ****.
So this is what I did.
1st he had given me access to pay bills online (not to his bank accounts, but to his emails), so I was able to investigate ALL his accounts with the same password, I printed/screenshotted every little bit of information relating to money. I found proof that he was indeed scamming people and found the people he “worked” with and even the name of the person at western union who facilitated the money transfer.
I found out he was an organized criminal. I also found out he did this between the two countries. I started preparing strike 1.
Strike 1
So, for strike 1, I printed his face and the face of everyone working for/with him (from their online profiles,) in defrauding people and left hundreds of flyers in his neighborhood. I also called the hotline for financial crime prevention in both the countries and gave very specific details and names. (know that even if he had given me the money, this goes against my core values and I would have done the same thing either way) at this point, I was preparing strike 2 too
Strike 2
I was dumb in lending him money but I least I did it the right way, I wrote a check, I didn’t do cash I wanted proof just in case.
It would turn out to be a great idea. On the check, I had written that it was a loan. (Thank you, Judge Judy, for this tip)
Since he didn’t pay me back, I prepared an invoice and sent it to me from his hacked email.
When the time came to do my taxes, I filed the 25K as an expense using this invoice. (I have many freelancers, I slid him as one of them) And it passed.
Don’t ask me how I got his Social Security Number, I can’t remember, but I ended up having access to it so ratted him out to the IRS for hiding income. I found out later on through friends that the IRS started investigating him for unpaid taxed, I heard he had to pay 38% taxes on that 25k + pay a 20% fine for not declaring income.
At this point I was satisfied, I figured 9500$ in taxes plus +5k$ in fines was 50% of what he owed me, at least he didn’t get away with it all.
But remember I told you on the check I had written that it was a loan. So I took about 2-3 years, but I took him to court and won (he didn’t even show up), so he has to reimburse the full 25k plus court fees (plus what he owes to the IRS so it’s 39’500$ that he was to pay for not reimbursing 25k.)
To this day I still haven’t seen a cent, but the rest of the story makes it worthwhile.
For a while I thought the financial crime call I made had no effect, now the cherry on top.
What I didn’t know at the time is that the IRS would team up with Wire Fraud division and look at EVERYTHING he did, they were not able to catch him on the wire fraud, but since the house he had did not fit with the money he was declaring, they got him on tax evasion and gave him a certain delay to pay back taxes, (I heard it was only 3 months, but I don’t know if it’s accurate.)
They got him so good, they ended up freezing his accounts, and he LOST HIS HOUSE.
The bank foreclosed it. And his debt to the IRS is still open, we are not in the US, so he won’t go to jail for this, however.
But my 25k that he did not want to repay ended up costing him over half a million dollars. And since you cannot go bankrupt for a debt you owe to the government, I’m happy to tell you that at 40 yo, he had to move back with his parents and ask for welfare and will probably be paying this for the rest of his life!
This story is not finished however, I just learned that he now has a job as a concierge in the apartment building of his parents, so I’ll be contacting the court to have the money he owes me taken directly from his pay.
The thing is, he has NO idea I’m the culprit of all his bad fortune and he recently sent me a message telling me he misses me, that I was an angel for him and that he regrets what he did…
Well, not me loser, not me!” elikair_mtl
9. Pour Unfinished Customers’ Soups Back Into The Stock Pot? Your Restaurant Is Gone
This is a HUGE no-no in the food industry.
“This revenge story happened in the 90s when I was working after school as a line cook/chef’s assistant at a Chinese restaurant.
The place specialized in noodle soups, with the main attraction being our soup stock. The owner used a much revered passed down family recipe. It consisted of freshly cracked pork bones, fresh spices, and fresh vegetables all kept at a rolling boil for over 12 hours. It had to be started the night before and the owner was very particular about the soup stock. If it ran out, then it ran out. He refused to ‘cheat’ as some places do by adding water or powdered stock etc.
The owner himself was this really awesome, old Chinese gentleman. He had some incredible stories. For example, he enlisted into the Kuo Ming Tang (Chinese republic) Army in the 40s and worked as a chef for KMT officers during WWII.
He told us about how one time his Division’s HQ was overrun, and he had to escape on a pushbike ahead of the advancing Japanese Army. Eventually, when the Chinese Communist Party took over in the 50s, he was assigned to a steel factory to work for the rest of his life.
He got the **** out and eventually made his way to the US as an asylum seeker. I digress but my point is that he was an awesome guy and was a genuinely kind and considerate boss. He always made sure his employees were fed before the evening shift and let me study during quiet nights.
His son, on the other hand, was a real piece of sh8t. This guy dropped out of college (his parents saved up for him to study medicine) after 2 years.
He floated in and out of jobs but mostly stayed unemployed, living with his parents and using their money to well into his mid-30s. He eventually started working at the restaurant, nominally as the front of the house manager but in reality, he did nothing but watch TV and take naps.
While I was only a line cook, the old man and I got along really well.
He trusted me and would routinely get me to make the soup stock the night before under his supervision.
Sadly, the old man died after my 5th year working there. That’s when the son took over (the mother had passed years ago). The son had zero cooking experience but decided to take over as the chef. He didn’t like the idea of putting the soup on overnight (waste of gas) and instead got me to do the prep the night before and then would just switch the pot on himself in the morning. He would also routinely add plain water to the soup when it got low so he could continue selling noodle soups.
The most incredible thing, however, was disgustingly, he got the wait staff to throw customer’s unfinished soups back into the stockpot for reuse. When I confronted him about it, he told me that it was no problem as the heat-killed any germs and threatened to fire me if I said anything.
Not surprisingly customers started leaving as the food quality degraded. This caused the son to panic and cut even more costs. He fired most of the old staff and thus overworked the remaining.
He couldn’t fire me because I was the only one left who knew how to do the soup.
He also stopped using quality ingredients and started to buy cheap pre-packaged staff in order to reduce my prep work hours. After a few months of this, I got sick of his crap. As I was about to start college myself I told him that I was giving him my notice. He, of course, took this poorly and told me that I was a loser.
He told me not to bother coming in tomorrow, but I was to spend the remainder of my shift showing a recent hire on how to do my job, stating that he would not issue my last check if I didn’t complete a thorough hand over. I laughed in his face and walked out on the spot, I didn’t bother chasing up my last check.
As a parting gift, I sent an email to our local Food Safety board, informing them of the poor sanitary practice of reusing leftover soups.
I helpfully also enclosed a few photos that I had sneakily taken of the practice. The board sent inspectors the very next day and closed the restaurant (there were other issues such as unhygienic bathrooms, uncleaned eating utensils), he was issued a massive fine and a list of undertakings to carry out before it could be reopened.
The restaurant remained closed and was eventually sold off. I didn’t bother chasing up what happened to the son but I hope he has learned his lesson and done something productive with his life.” ThomasofHookton
Another User Comments:
“I’m glad his dad didn’t have to see how his son ruined the restaurant.
His dad lived the American dream and gave his son the best chance to live a great life, what a shame. Sadly, there are a lot of children like this.” durianisyum
8. They Fired Me For Being “One Hour Late,” So I Reported Them To The Liquor Bureau
“I was working at a corporate sports bar at the time. Barely over minimum wage, no insurance, no raises, no future. New store management came in, and it was clear that they were “cleaning house” (I.E.
firing all of the old staff to hire their people). Somewhat standard, labor laws in my area allow firing for almost any reason.
I had been down that road before. I needed a paycheck until I found a new job, so I played by their new rules. I did every stupid thing they said. I saw other, more dedicated people fall by the wayside. Eventually, management needed a corporate policy violation to fire me.
Finally, one day, they changed the time clock an hour ahead and fired me for being one hour “late” to work.
OK, fair play, 100% legal anyways (they paid for the total number of hours worked), they were just fabricating the lateness for company policy.
After finding that they were fighting my unemployment claim, I filed a formal complaint with the liquor bureau in my state. Their clock said that I was an hour “late,” therefore their official paperwork said that they were selling alcohol an hour after the last call. Hundreds per violation, plus automatic license suspension after X violations, and every bar transaction for that hour was a possible violation.
I QUICKLY got corporate attention. My last check was double-checked for hours accuracy and overnighted to my front door. Cashier’s check, not standard payroll. I eventually signed a form saying that they were not selling alcohol after hours and they would stop filing frivolous appeals against my unemployment benefits.
The GM was replaced 2 months after I left, and they had repeated staffing problems trying to fill my shoes. Corporate still gives me a stellar job reference to this day.
For clarity’s sake, this wasn’t daylight savings time, but it was the early 2000s when virtually all computer systems did not play nicely with each other.
For example, for daylight savings time each location would root in (# prompt at least) and change the store’s server clocks ahead or behind 1 hour before the business day began…or every system from payroll to card processing **** themselves and corporate hated them for a while. They could not change the clocks mid-day, they could only change it before the workday and could not alter the clocks again until close of business.
They also did not pay me any extra money, they only overnighted my final check to me instead of waiting 2 weeks and stopped filing appeals to my already-approved unemployment benefits; because I told the regional manager they were putting me in a tight spot financially.
The liquor law specifically stated that the official clock in the state main office would be considered the official clock. Legally, no violation actually occurred. I told the clerk at the liquor office the same story, and she still asked me to file a complaint so they could officially verify the story.
They also got my contact info, but never called or wrote to me.
A regional boss wanted that signed form not for legal reasons or license compliance, but for internal company reasons. Upper management wanted heads to roll if anything actually risked their liquor license; but since the GM just chose a ********* way to try to validate my termination, I took my unemployment benefits and considered the matter closed.” daschande
7. When A Pastor Takes Advantage Of His Position, The Last Thing He Should Do Is Mess With IT
“I have been a computer technician for more than 15 years.
I have worked on all kinds of computers. Everything from tiny point of sale computers to large rack server computers.
I had been attending a new to my church. I was trying to see a woman there this church was her idea. That relationship crashed and burned but that’s a different story.
Now we can start
It was about 5 years ago. I had just sat through a long sermon about generosity and giving to those that need help.
At the end of the sermon Pastor Bob asked for an additional donation because the church’s roof needed repairs. And it would cost $20,000 US dollars. that’s right twenty thousand freedom dollars for a new roof.
After the service, I’m talking to the girl I’m seeing. Pastor Bob walks over to me. I said hi and he introduced himself. We talked we talk a bit. Pastor Bob asked what I do for a living. I tell him I’m a computer tech with a shop.
As I’m telling him I have a feeling he already knows what I do. Pastor Bob asks me to have a look at his laptop.
It’s being very slow. So I agree.
I turn the laptop on and I hear a clicking noise. This clues me in it’s probably the hard drive. But I can still access the data. This is a good thing because it means I can probably recover the data. So, I tell pastor Bob the hard drive is dying and it needs to be replaced.
I also tell him I can probably recover the data. Pastor Bob asked how much it would cost to fix. I tell him for most people I would charge around $250. However, I feel I can donate my time so I would just need $60 for a new hard drive. Pastor Bob agrees so I write up an invoice. New hard drive $60 labor $0, data recovery $0, and 2 to 4 days for repair. pastor Bob signed the invoice.
Thus, I take the laptop to my shop.
I open the laptop. HP why do you use so many screws and clips? I get the hard drive out and connect it to my recovery rig. I set up the recovery to clone the data to a new hard drive. But not the new one for the laptop. A high-end storage drive.
I go home after locking up the shop.
Next day Monday I open the shop and check the recovery rig.
It’s working but it will take at least 10 more hours. So, I start work on the other tickets. Then at closing time I lock up and go home.
Next day Tuesday, I’ve had Pastor Bob’s laptop for 2 days. I open the shop and check my recovery rig. Good news recovery completed 100 percent data recovered. Report says hard drive developed to many bad sectors. Now I have a choice to make. I could put a 1 TB hard drive $60 or a 120 GB SSD $60.
or I could pay some money myself for a 240 GB SSD $100. I decided why not and put the 240 GB SSD in the laptop. I then clone all the data over from the new recovery storage drive to the new 240 GB SSD. An hour later the clone is done. So, I check everything the laptop works great and is exactly like how it was before the first hard drive died. Even the logins still worked.
Therefore, I call pastor Bob and tell him his computer is done. He says that’s great he will be here soon to get it.
About 45 minutes later pastor Bob walks in. I show him his laptop working and much faster. He loves it and signs the pickup form. He then pays me with a check for $60. It’s important he paid with a check. I do a bank run on Monday and Friday. So that Friday at the bank.
I am informed that pastor Bob’s check is void, what? Why? Pastor Bob had placed a stop payment on the check. Consequently, I called him and he ignored my call.
I go to church on Sunday. Pastor Bob gives a sermon about not lying. I walk up to talk to him and he avoids me. So, I leave and decide I’m going to write it off. I spent $100 and some time to do something nice.
A few weeks later a customer walks in looking for a new computer.
To welcome him I offer him a drink and go over his options. I’m chatting him up and he tells me he is a contractor he mostly does siding and roofing. He is thinking about offering solar. That’s why he is getting a new computer. I ask how much does a new roof cost. He says up to about $10,000.
So I ask him why would someone say $20,000. He had no idea. I thought it was strange.
I asked about the church. The contractor said it would have been simple and around $5,000. And he could probably do it for less. Contractor buys a nice new laptop.
Something about what the contractor said bugs me later. Why would pastor Bob lie and say $20,000 for a new roof. And why would he stiff me for $60. I then remember I never cleared the recovery rig storage drive. I check and there it is pastor Bob’s laptop data.
I look around, it’s slow and I’m all caught up on repair tickets. Fittingly I look around a bit. He had all of his logins stored in a folder on the desktop. Including dating and poker. Did I ever mention pastor Bob is married? I start printing his messages. I look back and find pastor Bob had been adult hugging several women. he had been paying for his dates from the church’s donation fund.
I am getting angry now. Then I realize he had adult-hugged the woman I was seeing when I was with her.
It was then I decided to break pastor Bob. I printed out all his messages and the women he adult hugged. for the last 6 months except I refused to print the naughty pictures. It was an impressive packet. I then decide I need copies of the packet. Therefore, I order 100 packets printed from a major online printer.
A few days later my order of revenge packets arrived. These revenge packets are amazing double-sided. Staple-bound, with a cover with pastor Bob’s face on it.
Now the conclusion and I think it’s worth it.
. This church had a calendar of what the sermon might be about a perfect Sunday was approaching. I go to church that perfect Sunday. I show up a bit late. Everyone is in the church so I put a revenge packet on each car.
I have a few revenge packets that are in yellow envelopes. Fittingly I put them in the mail. I sent one to all the high ups in the church. and I sent a special packet with some of pastor Bob’s naughty pics to pastor Bob’s wife. I set the return address to the church. I also emailed a bunch of people the revenge packet from a burner email.
A couple weeks after I went back to that church.
Pastor Bob was gone so was the wife. several of the women were also gone including the one I saw. I asked one of the important people there. What happened? The answer was amazing. I was told about the revenge packet and how everyone had gotten one. The day my revenge packet appeared. The sermon pastor Bob had given was about the evils of adultery and cheating on your wife. Thank you, church calendar.
The fallout
Pastor Bob was fired and shunned.
Multiple women from the church have not returned including the one I was seeing. Pastor Bob’s wife is divorcing him. And she is the one that owned the house and cars. No longer pastor Bob is now being sued by several people including the one that fixed the roof. He never paid any of them. There were also rumors of a criminal case for embezzlement. No one has seen Bob in a while now. The church might close if they can’t find a new pastor.
But the church’s money is very low. Apparently, he also spent over $30,000 on online gambling.” madbr3991
6. They Tried To Take My Job, So I Took Theirs
Treat others how you want to be treated.
“This happened last year.
I was about six months into a food service job at the time. I worked in my University’s cafeteria prepping and serving food to the students.
After closing, I took about 45 minutes to finish cleaning up my station and took another ten to finish up one of my co-worker’s sections that she needed a bit of help with.
My supervisor had left just after closing to God knows where leaving the rest of us to our devices as he usually did. He was more the “watch and rule” type.
After I had finished, I took a quick 5 minute trip to the bathroom as I usually did around this time every day. As I happily walked to the back to assist in helping the others finish so we could all leave, I hear a cough behind me.
The sound of the calm before the storm. I ignore it, thinking nothing of it and go on my way. I hear a more abrupt “EHUM” and I stop and turn on my heel to meet the shift supervisor’s cold gaze, his hands crossed over his puffed chest in his regal stance.
I give him a questioning look as he looks on expecting me to read his mind.
Supervisor: “A half an hour?” He asks calmly, but with a sour tinge to his tone
Me, confused, I chuckle: “Huh?” This was apparently the worst thing I could have done.
Supervisor: “You were in the bathroom for half an hour?!” He yelled, stomping his royal foot.
I was taken aback as he had never come at me with a sideways tone before; I thought we were cool, but I should have known better seeing how he treated my coworkers. I was so shocked I just stood there, staring at him like he grew three horns. I didn’t feel the need to defend myself at the moment as I knew the words he was spitting my way was pure BS.
Supervisor: “Do you like your job?” He demanded from me. I did not, in fact, like my job.
I had trouble holding back my smile at this thought as he yelled some more things I don’t remember as my ears had gone numb to his screeching at this point. I knew he had no power to fire me and I hadn’t even seen his mug for the past hour. I knew his words had no consequence. I had nothing to say to his tantrum and as soon as he realized that, he dismissed me.
I have trouble egging people on when they are being so irrational, so generally, I stay quiet and let them get out their baby-fit.
I quickly went back to my work and started scheming about how I could get back at this man.
Over the next week, I compiled photo evidence of him slacking on the job, serving undercooked food, and statements from my co-workers about their individual experiences where he ridiculed or threatened them and I took it straight to my boss that Friday.
I laid out all of my evidence and my personal encounter, which they would be able to check the cameras and identify both of our whereabouts that day and could see who truly was off duty for “A half an hour?!”
I didn’t think much would come of it as I was a relatively new worker and honestly I didn’t care about anything that happened to that hellhole. I let it slip from my mind for the weekend.
The next Monday, I come in before most and start setting up. After a while the general manager comes out of the back with the supervisor following her like a puppy, staring at his feet. He walks sheepishly up to me and invites me to sit with him at one of the tables in the cafeteria where he admits to me that he was in the wrong, shouldn’t have yelled at me like that, should be a better leader, is super duper sorry, all that yadda, yadda.
I sat there with the biggest grin on my face as he practically groveled at my feet, begging for forgiveness as his boss watched on, this man that sat so high on his horse for the past six months. I watched on in celebration as he then apologized to each of my co-workers individually.
Not but a week later, he was demoted to a backroom cook and I had been given the role of the shift supervisor.
We never had a problem after that and he was a generally okay guy. I hope he really did learn his lesson and didn’t say all those things just to get it over with. Either way, this was the sweetest revenge of my life. I have since quit that job and work for a company with people who actually know how to respect others as individuals, whether their position is below or above their own.” SkyshadowXx
5. They Made Me Do Most Of The Work, So I Had A Plan To Get Them Expelled
Rightfully deserved.
“This happened about 12 years ago while I was studying Aeronautical Engineering.
Due to some money-grubbing legislation tactics, most who have gone to college know about the unnecessary courses that are tacked onto the degrees in order to graduate.
One of those courses for my degree was a Business class (seriously, you’d think these guys would understand that most Engineers don’t do the business side of things). Thankfully, we had a teacher who was understanding of the fact that many of us in the class were bored out of our minds.
I’ll admit to having always been a geek/nerd who loved making good grades. If I don’t understand something, I run at it hard to try to change that. This class stumped me for quite some time and then a nightmare of a project was announced: one worth 50% of our grades.
The school was a small one, the class a little more than 30 people, and I was assigned to work with three people I knew from other classes.
We had problems straight away. Two of the people remembered me from a Calculus class that they barely passed as the person who sailed easily through and decided to dump their portion of the work on me straight away, knowing I wouldn’t allow myself to fail. They were right.
At first, my other group member tried to pick up the slack as well, pulling hard to do a difficult project in a subject we barely understood.
I’ll admit she was a trouper.
Unfortunately, she was also someone easily manipulated and our two slacking group members began applying pressure during the semester for her to take the work and allow them to present it.
The day of the project finally comes and I’m sick as a dog, pretty much quarantined in the clinic due to bronchitis. I managed to send a message to the teacher. The two slackers manage to wrangle the presentation from the girl who worked with me and presented it to the class, declaring that they had done all of the work and I was skipping class because they had told me that they were going to tell the teacher what happened.
My initial grade was an F. I was beyond p*ssed until I realized something important: part of the project involved a written report, of which, I held the only copy since I was the one to type it up.
Cue the revenge: privately I went to the teacher with my notes and the report in order to get the grade I earned and to get him in on the plot. He agreed since it seemed fun and he planned to fail them anyway for academic dishonesty.
Publicly, there was no report.
The classmates that had attempted to take all the credit began to approach me, first demanding the report. Most of the time, my response was, “But I didn’t do any work!” in a sickly sweet voice.
Next, they attempted to act all buddy-buddy, trying to convince me that it had all been a joke and promising that they’d tell the professor that I had done some work, giving me some credit so that I had the possibility to pass.
This was met with stony silence on most occasions before I told them that I’d rather fail than let them pass.
Things escalated after that to include the door of my dorm room being rapped on at odd hours of the night, shoving, and them stealing my backpack and notebooks in order to try to find the report themselves. One of them even asked my roommate to let them search for a report I had written and forgotten for our group (didn’t have her as my roommate the following semester).
Things finally came to a head in the last week of classes. I had held out on them for a month, not telling any of my groupmates what I had done and enough time had elapsed that even if they were to turn in the report now, it would be so late that they’d still have failed.
They hadn’t even attempted to do the report themselves and the girl who had worked with me was in hysterics over the very real possibility of failing the class.
It was what the teacher and I had been waiting for and he finally decided to return the reports.
The two slackers glared daggers at me as the teacher returned the report of every other group in the class before stopping in front of them. He was holding what looked to be one extra report and they were immediately looking hopeful. He set a single sheet of paper on one of their desks before moving to the desk of the girl who had worked along with me and set the report on her desk.
“I had to dock some points for dishonesty, but you and your partner did decently,” he stated before moving on.
My partner realized what I had done. We only got an 82 on our project, but it was far better than the 0 that our ex-group mates received.
I had been carefully documenting the harassment that the two slackers had put me through and ensured several witnesses saw some of what they did. Two days after being informed that they were failing, the pair had a new problem: I gave the evidence to the administration of our school and the teacher reported academic dishonesty.
The administration did a bit more digging and found that the pair had been making trouble for some time and a number of students reported similar problems of having their work stolen.
The slackers were expelled.” saria19
4. Fire Me? Kiss All Of Your Jobs Goodbye READ THIS ONE
“My 2019 was wild. But with everything finally on the up and up, I feel I can tell this story here.
After uni (late 2018), I fell on rough times and was forced to move back to my home town.
I tried to transfer my job to a branch in my area but failed, thus I needed to get a new job.
I settled for a 20 hour a week job at abookie’s, with a second bartending job in the evenings. The bookies is the target for my revenge, which was entirely accidental.
Involved are the following:
Janelle – My manager’s manager
Shay – My manager
Jorge and Gordan – my co-workers
and,
Kara – a co-worker at another store (who is relevant later)
I ended up working behind the counter as a customer service manager, basically a step up from a cashier.
It’s fancy when seen on a CV but there’s nothing really to it. I took bets, chatted with customers, helped people with machines and (for the vast majority of my shift) sat around waiting for something to do.
I got on well with my co-workers (or so I thought) and had no major issues.
It was 20 hours a week, about £1 more than minimum wage with a lot of overtime required of me and irregular shift patterns.
Though I had no issue with the job, beyond how difficult it was to juggle the schedules of both of my jobs.
In February of 2019 (after working for the company for 6 months) I was invited to a Probation hearing. It cannot be emphasized enough that it was a Probation hearing in which I would have my performance reviewed and (as informed in training) was entitled to a pay rise at the end of it.
I arrived that morning to a Disciplinary Hearing where, without even a shred of evidence, I was accused of 11 different cash discrepancies dating back to early November of 2018 (shortly after I’d started) which all amounted to £271.36.
All but one of which I’d never heard of before.
These had apparently been reported and logged by my manager (Shay) and my co-workers, despite no one saying a word to me at all. Not a whisper in the 5 months this had apparently been occurring.
I was told that it was unacceptable, a call was made to HR and I was terminated on the spot and forced to hand over my keys and to never set foot in the store again.
To my protests, I was told the decision could not be appealed and I would eventually receive written confirmation of my employments termination in the post.
I didn’t let myself slump around and feel sorry for myself, so (on the way home) I opened up Indeed and applied for a bunch of jobs and (before I arrived home) had an interview set up for the next week at what is my current place of work.
Now, I was FURIOUS.
Fuming at having gone to what I thought should have been a normal probation meeting and having (effectively) been called a thief and been banned for life from a place I’d never go to anyway. But somehow, my parents were angrier and ordered me to let them know when they got into contact with me again.
Almost two weeks later I received an EMAIL from the companies HR which reiterated the accusations and stated (again) that I was terminated.
My mum sat me down in her kitchen and walked me through a letter response that was two parts professional and three parts scathing. Ripping into them about their unprofessional conduct, their ludicrous claims, their lack of evidence, the holes in their story (because there were quite a few) and finally, the cherry on the cake…
The employment laws they’d broken.
Now I didn’t want much, just a nice reference. A promise that not a whisper of these accusations would turn up when my new job asked them for a reference (because, by then, I’d already been offered the job).
I then attached the letter to an email to fire back at their HR department.
Then I added Janelle’s work email. Then her bosses email and finally, the holding company that owned the brand. Cause I wanted to make sure this was seen.
A bit of background, the bookies I worked for is a brand that is owned by an international company, their name (behind the scenes) is slapped on everything and they pretty much dictate everything we did.
I’m not sure if the holding company is the correct term, but I’ll stick to that for now.
Anyway, I sent this email with a forty-eight-hour window for a response. I received a reply the next day from the same email that my demands were being met. I smirked victoriously and moved on with my life, happy to wash my hands with the entire ordeal. However, I’d set off a chain reaction that I wouldn’t know about until three months later.
Three months on, I’d settled into my new job, a call center position with double the hours and well over double the pay.
I’d gone through training and was settling into my new position when I see a new set of trainees settling in near my team. Among them was Gordan, one of my co-workers from the bookies.
I was stunned. Gordan had been at the bookies for six years when I joined. He was well-liked, good at his job and a favorite of the managers.
There was no way he’d been fired.
Though I didn’t really want to talk to him (as I was of the impression that he, Jorge and my manager had likely set me up) I did want to know what happened.
Luckily, on seeing me in the break room one shift, he sought me out and told me everything.
Apparently my email had been read by the higher-ups in the holding company and had caused a lot of scrutinies to fall onto the bookies in our town (of which there were three in our area that Janelle was responsible for, two in my town and a third in a neighboring one).
Someone in HR passed a message down to the Area Manager (Janelle’s boss) claiming they wanted things investigated and they wanted results yesterday, causing him to drop everything and descend on our little town with the panic and aggression of a man who’s superiors were watching his every breath.
He went to Janelle wanting to know: why he hadn’t been made aware previously that I was apparently stealing money, why I had been given keys to the shop and shifts on my own when allegations of that nature were attributed to me AND why I hadn’t been put under investigation.
Turns out, Janelle HAD in fact put in my ’employee file’ that I was under investigation but had never actually gone through with any of the official procedures for monitoring and investigating me (shock horror). Thus she had fired me for the accused crime without looking into it at all, falsely claiming otherwise.
Thus, the Area Manager took the dates and amounts of the cash discrepancies, confirmed that they had been reported on those days (without my knowledge) in Shay’s own logbook of the shop’s cash, and sent that information onto our security team to investigate.
Another little detail is that the CCTV for every shop in the brand is outsourced to a private security company that monitors each shop remotely and has access to all the camera’s and video. As was the procedure, they looked into the dates mentioned to see if I’d been doing anything untoward. I know I wasn’t and nothing was ever said to me.
But they DID find something…
Turns out, money WAS going missing from the shop but (surprise surprise) it wasn’t me, but Jorge and Shay.
They not only set me up (for reasons I will never know) but were also falsifying numbers and cash checks on the system to hide it. One thing Shay was caught doing was deliberately shortchanging customers by taking portions of their winnings without them even knowing it (bear in mind, a lot of our customers were elderly men and women).
Gordan claims that he once opened the shop (after I and Shay had closed the night before) and noticed a cash difference but had been told not to say anything to me as I was under investigation and it could compromise it.
He did apologise and I let it go.
Needless to say, Jorge and Shay were fired.
But it doesn’t end there.
Our team was small, including me, there were a total of four people working at the store. As they hadn’t been able to hire anyone to replace me, Jorge and Shay’s termination meant Gordan was the only employee at the busiest shop in our area. Even if they’d been able to get other colleagues from the two other shops to help out, it wouldn’t have been enough to keep the shop open and manage the number of customers.
So they closed the location down until they could get the staff to run it.
It was at that point that Gordan handed in his resignation and applied for his job at my work. Meaning they had no one.
On top of that, Gordan’s girlfriend worked in the same shop as Janelle and she relayed that she was rarely at their store (in the other town) for the next few weeks before the Area Manager reported she was fired as well.
No reason was given to her.
I was later issued an apology for everything by the Area Manager and informed she (Janelle) was no longer with the company in an email sometime later.
But SOMEHOW, it doesn’t end there.
With the store I worked at closed (this one is on the high street and where most people preferred to go), the only other location in town was the MUCH smaller location in the suburbs. The one where Kara worked.
ALONE.
She suddenly received an influx of customers into her tiny store space and absolutely no support from other staff or upper management. Thus, for her own mental health (having already been overworked and underpaid, running an entire store by herself) she quit, meaning that location had to be closed down too.
All of this at the worst possible time, March, when the Cheltenham Festival was occurring. Which is a HUGE moneymaker for the gambling industry, even in a small town like ours.
An opportunity the three other bookies on the high-street reaped the benefits of instead of my old place, as the former customers went to them instead.
As it currently stands, just over a year later, both shops remain closed and I’m currently entering a job in cyber-security, the training for which I paid for with my current job.
Thanks for firing me *********, you did me a favor.
UPDATE:
Gordan and I got in touch with our old Area Manager and we were able to get a bit more information:
The security team rifled through about three years worth of footage after they found out about Jorge and Shay and have estimated that (in that period alone) they both stole nearly £4,000 through various means.
The parent company also got involved and searched through years worth of their cash checks and till checks and noted plenty of irregularities.
The parent company pursued criminal charges and the two were arrested but, as far as our Area Manager knows, the case is still ongoing. He thinks it’s because they are still looking into how much they actually stole (as they’ve both been there a while, Jorge about 8 years and Shay 10 years).
I doubt they’ll have security footage of all that time, but I bet they’re trying to get a more accurate figure to really nail them.
And in comes a new character: Tammy (obviously not her real name). She is an employee who was hired and fired shortly before I was, at the same store. She lasted just past her probation before she was fired, wait for it, for months worth of cash differences and false till checks she wasn’t made aware of prior.
HOWEVER, her situation is FAR worse than mine. Tammy is in the process of suing the company for wrongful termination (alongside financial and emotional damages) as she was put under a lot of stress whilst in the job by Shay (who apparently left her to fend for herself and would refuse to step in when customers got aggressive) and then had a miscarriage shortly after her employment was terminated.
Our Area Manager doesn’t know anything more, as it’s escalated and gone way above his head and I doubt I’ll be able to get any more information on it. But I doubt the company’s doing too well on that front and I wish her the best.
Gordan and I are considering reaching out to some of the other fired employees (of which he can name a few who were terminated for similar reasons) to get their side of things.
But it seems very clear that what Shay and Jorge were doing was going on for a long time and I was only the latest scapegoat.
Janelle, unfortunately, is perfectly fine as far as I’m aware. Her husband and she opened a taxi company several years ago and she seems to have just got more involved with that. I haven’t seen her so I wouldn’t know. But she was terminated for gross misconduct and for not following the procedure, which is kinda what I expected.
And Kara, who our Area Manager actually really dislikes (but is lovely and did not deserve what she went through) is doing okay. I’ve messaged her and she and her partner recently bought a house. She also got a job as an Events Manager at a local historical site. She’s happier there as she actually has people to talk to at work and isn’t alone anymore.” RowanWinterlace
3. Be A Stingy Boss? I’ll Force You To Pay My Contributions And Hurt Your Ego
“Let’s call my ******* boss Eugene, since his stinginess reminds me of Eugene Krabs from SpongeBob Squarepants, except Krabs is nowhere near malicious.
In order to display the full satisfaction of this revenge, I will have to describe a few (but not limited) things Eugene did that entitles him to be a complete jacka**.
For the context, Eugene owns a small company that provides artistic services of some sort and never hired full-timers (which I later learned that it was due to his stinginess). Initially, when I saw the open part-time position, I thought it was ideal for me as I had external commitments, and needed some sort of income.
The job offers about 550USD per month (I don’t live in the US, this is a rough conversion), but only required me to clock in about 90 hours a month. It wasn’t a very good offer, but good enough for me as I considered myself to be an inexperienced infield. Note that Eugene had seen my portfolio and knew my ability level before hiring me.
The first couple of months was fine, I worked the hours I was supposed to and got paid accordingly, occasionally extending my shift at my own time due to the nature of the work, but I didn’t mind.
I guess Eugene saw this as an advantage he could exploit later on during my employment. It is also important to note that Eugene would often ask about my well-being, how did I spend my weekends, etc. At this point in time, it all seemed like courtesy talk so I didn’t pay much attention to it.
He would ask about my previous employment and my reason for leaving, which I answered honestly that their work system was unsuitable for me.
This will be important later.
Eugene gradually began to grow more impatient towards me, often blaming me for not being able to match up to his ability. Remember when I was inexperienced thus the pay rate? Eugene had over a decade of experience in this expertise and he expected me to be at his level when I was only 3 months in. The stress was intense and I began working longer hours just to keep up and produce work at the best quality I could.
I was under the belief that if I worked hard enough, my effort will speak. Even though this was only a part-time position, I overcommitted my time there and took pride in my work. My external commitments were barely scraping by. I was exhausted but thought I was doing a good job until Eugene “spoke” to me one day.
Eugene pulled me into his office and lectured me on my work etiquette, saying that I wasn’t putting enough effort he was considering letting me go.
At this point, I was beyond confused. Did he really not see the effort I put in? Was I delusional in thinking that I was actually doing well and my work had been improving? I tried speaking up but he quickly diverted the topic, telling me he knew the reason why my previous employer hated me.
It was because I was lazy and uncommitted. To say I was in disbelief was an understatement. Not only did I believe I did my best with every task handed to me, but Eugene had also registered my flaws during casual conversations and twisted my words to his advantage.
I had no idea how to react and simply ask him what expected of me. He instantly replied that he would like me to double my hours working for him, at the same monthly pay rate. His reasons? It’s my fault that I am not experienced enough to produce quality work, thus it should be under my own responsibility and time to make up for it. My external commitments didn’t matter, he said, as this job was my only source of income and should be kept as a priority.
It finally dawned to me that Eugene was a narcissistic sociopath who has only held conversations so that he could learn a person’s weaknesses for his manipulation.
Now, if you read my title, you will see that Eugene was not only a narcissist but also stingy AF. Eugene is obsessed with maximizing his profits. Any business owner would love that, I agree, but Eugene is down to every cent in immoral and even possibly, illegal ways.
He would sell a service to a client, and upon receiving the deposit, deliver something else.
He was smart enough to keep his contracts vague (for both clients AND employees) so that nobody could not take legal actions against him. More than often, his clients would be left to wits’ end as it would be too late and expensive to engage another vendor by the time they realized they had been scammed. Eugene would then demanded another set of payment to deliver what he had originally promised, overcharging the client an average of 100% to 200% more than what was agreed.
Eventually realizing that they’d been played, most people would be too exhausted to pursue further action and prayed for the project to be over so they didn’t have to deal with his antics anymore. This inaction probably fed Eugene’s ego that he could get away playing dirty every time
So in my country, employers are required to pay a certain amount of tax for every local employee they hire. While it is not exactly tax, it is obligated by law and negligence will result in a hefty fine and possibly jail time.
These “taxes” are technically contributions for the employee’s retirement funds, which is payable by every employer.
An employer can deduct a certain percentage of the contributions from the employee’s wages. This law has its own complications since there are a certain group of people exempted from it, such as students or interns. Now, Eugene is the classic example of a narcissist who thinks that he is smarter than everyone else. He felt that he was smart enough to evade the law by drafting a contract with vague details to protect himself, and was deluded enough to believe that everyone would believe him as long as he sounded convincing.
In other words, he thought of people as sacks of potatoes with no opinion of their own. If anyone was to have a perspective, it had to be his way or the wrong way.
I stayed in Eugene’s company for about 4 months, before I felt too mentally overwhelmed. On the day that I left, I called in to check on my Contribution account and just as I had expected, Eugene hadn’t paid a single cent over the past 4 months.
The officer on the other end of the line asked if I would like to report this as a case, guess my answer.
A week later, I received an update from the Contribution Board, saying that Eugene had disputed my case, claiming that I was only an intern and thus, exempted from the law.
This jerk was playing dirty as a last attempt to steal from me. As I had mentioned, Eugene thought of himself as a smart man, and probably felt that the officer would rule the case in his favor since he had world-class convincing skills and his vague “contract” would have protected him either way.
Fine, Eugene. So you think you can get away just like any other time. You must have gotten pretty confident by now. Well, not this time, Eugene. I wrote a 2 pages long email to the Contribution Board Officer, with every reason and evidence I can find on how am I not an intern like Eugene claimed. Knowing his antics, I went the extra mile to research all the exempted groups and wrote every possible reason on how am I NOT in the category.
Excessive? Yes. Worth it? **** YES.
I didn’t hear from the Officer for 2 weeks and when I finally did, he informed me that Eugene had agreed to pay my contributions. Remember when I said employers are permitted to deduct a certain percentage from employee’s wages? Due to his negligence, Eugene could no longer do that and had to pay the full amount, on top of the fines that incurred along with it.
If he had dutifully abode by the law, it would have only cost him a third of what he had to pay.
So that’s a bit of ******* tax for you, Eugene. Now that I’ve gotten back what I was owed, I have decided to move on, but the story did not end there.
An ex-colleague of mine, NJ, who is still working for Eugene told me that during the 2 weeks I didn’t hear from the Officer, Eugene was busy fighting for his stand by giving every reason that I an exempted individual. The officer, having seen my email, soon got tired of his nonsense and gave him a deadline to pay up or he’ll be brought to court.
NJ said he had never seen Eugene so defeated before. To top it off, it seemed like karma had finally caught up to him as he started losing more and more clients due to his unethical practices. The fine came to him when he had no clients that month so it was a very obvious dent in his bank account. Ultimately, it was not a huge amount, but knowing Eugene’s stinginess and ego, I think the damage was enough to qualify for this sub.” anonymous_bun
2.The Vice Principal Got Fired, And Many Of My Abusers Went To Jail
“This pro-revenge took place when I was in high school in the mid-2000s, a time in my country when there was much public outcry over bullying/hazing in boarding schools.
A couple of students in different schools had died from injuries resulting from bullying. Other schools were rioting and burning ****. They were under increased scrutiny. It was a whole thing.
Personally, my life in high school was not fun. I was a fat boy with very low self-esteem going into my first year. The bullying I experienced quickly led to depression. I was prone to self-harm and recklessness. The thing that made high school particularly nightmarish though was the ****** abuse.
Low-key comments about my ******ity from this group of about five boys in the fourth form. They called me and my best friends gay. The social stigma associated with homo******ity here is really extreme. These boys would stalk and terrorize me. They left threatening notes under my sheets: “we’re ***********goi*ng to* *** you up for being a ****** gay,” “we’re going to ****** assault you,” etc. So I had only one close friend who knew what was going on.
Ironically, after an entire term of convincing everyone that I was gay, this same group began ******** abusing me. I’ll spare you the details, but my first year in high school was the worst time of my life.
But you’re not here for my sad story, so moving on!
Sometime in the middle of the term, the vice principal (VP) of our school was changed due to the aforementioned public backlash from the bullying scandals. The previous VP was a decent man, but the new VP was not.
He came with a well-earned reputation of being unnecessarily harsh, dishing out suspensions and expulsions like candy on Halloween.
The Last Straw
A few weeks after the new VP came in, and I’m having an incredibly sh*tty week that is really battering my mind (yes, the bullying and ****** abuse was still going on). Now, every Friday night, a group of kids used to climb through a window into the computer lab and play video games. The windows had bars on them, but a slim person could fit through.
(I am not slim by any definition; unless the definition is fat). Among this group of kids was this troublemaker dude in my class and my dorm with the same common name. Turns out, the VP had confused the two of us, and I was the one who was in his crosshairs.
That Friday, the kids were caught. Some of them, including my namesake, managed to escape.
The VP was called in and the students who were caught snitched.
Security was sent to the dorms to bring the other culprits. Cue me being woken up at 3:00 am in the morning and dragged to ‘the scene of the crime’ to endure a beating for something I hadn’t done (corporal punishment was tacitly legal then/now). My explanation that there is clearly no way for me to fit through the window was met with more canings.
What really p*ssed me off was that the VP had us bring our belongings to his office at night for an inspection with the excuse of searching for stolen computer equipment.
He came across my very private journal, and like the *** he was, he proceeded to ridicule me for having a diary in front of the teachers, watchmen, and the students I was bundled with. It didn’t help matters that I broke down and cried in front of them. I don’t think I have ever felt such humiliation in my life before. The following morning, we were suspended for two weeks.
Two weeks later, my parents took me back to school.
I had only told them of the mistaken identity that I suspected and the wrongful accusation.
They already knew about the bullying. I didn’t tell them about the VP going through my diary or the ****** stuff. I was still writhing in humiliation. The VP, being the absolute ******** that he was, had convinced himself that I was the ringleader of this group of boys (again, mistaken identity), and thus deserved extra punishment. He ordered me to clear out a large patch of weeds and overgrown grass between the rugby pitch and the hockey field, about the size of a football field, using only a slasher.
Just as I’m about to head out, it starts raining and it’s the middle of July, so much cold (temperatures regularly dip to below 10 degrees (Celsius) at night). So instead of going to the field, I head to class to wait out the rain. A few minutes later, the VP barged in furious, interrupting the Geography lesson.
He proceeded to tear me a new one, even mentioning my private journal, and then he threatened to expel me if I left the field before I finished my punishment.
Mind you, this was one of the best schools in our region. It had actually been my first choice. He then he proceeded to cane me again just to make his point stick.
At this point, I just broke. All of this punishment was due to something that I had not done. I was completely innocent but this ******* just couldn’t listen. The ridicule, the humiliation, the bullying, and the abuse all just came to a head at that point, and I decided to just *** it all to ****.
So I walked out into the rain, slasher in hand, with not even a sweater. This was about four in the afternoon. I never returned.
I think the VP never really expected me to complete the punishment. But then, I doubt he had ever met someone who decided they had no more ***s left to give either. My initial plan was to crucify him with his own words.
Dusk fell with me cold and drenched ripping up ferns from the ground.
By midnight, I was shivering and crying uncontrollably and it was too dark to see ***. I still persevered and started blindly cutting the grass, driven by this mad desire to just hurt. I really didn’t care who I hurt. Sure, a part of my motivation was that if I did get sick out here, the VP would be in a ***load of trouble, but there was another part of me that was just like, “*** it, life sucks anyways.”
By midnight, I was too cold to continue.
I ran out of energy and just sat down under a tree. Towards dawn, I was so cold from the rain and the wind that my shivers began reducing. It was impossible for me to sleep. The teachers finally found me there a couple of hours after dawn. Apparently, the teacher on duty had found my desk empty during morning study time (between 4:30 and 6:00 am). When he asked where I was, it came about that I had not been in bed the previous night either.
He then called the VP and other teachers who began searching the school and they finally found me in the field.
The Pro-Revenge
I don’t know much about what happened immediately after, I was so out of it. I do remember the teachers rushed me to the school nurse, who immediately recommended I be taken to the hospital. I spent a week there due to complications (pneumonia). And a very expensive week it was, all on the school’s dime.
My parents were p*ssed as ***, and I couldn’t blame them.
The school’s board of governors convened after my parents contacted them. The days before my parents and I were called in to speak before the board, I had the idea to just face my fears and put everything out in the open.
I was just done with that school and everybody there. So on that day, in front of a group of musty old men in the boardroom, I finally shed my burden.
I told them everything, my only motivation being to bury the piece of *** VP and my tormentors. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything that scary before. From the mistaken identity, the suspension, the punishment in the rain, the threat to expel me if decided to seek shelter, and the crown jewel the bullying and the ****** abuse, I laid it all out. I knew that would definitely get their attention. The board called my best friend, who backed me up.
The VP was in no position to win a he-said they-said contest with us at that moment.
The VP was fired that day. A few days later, a zero-tolerance policy on bullying was announced. I think the board was acutely afraid of finding themselves in the news for all the wrong reasons. They didn’t want their school to be one of ‘those’ schools, despite the fact that it was one of the worst. Over the holidays my friend told me that things got really serious after that.
People didn’t know why, but suddenly, any act of bullying was met with immediate and unconditional expulsion.
As for the boys who had been terrorizing me, they were arrested. My dad went to the police with the threatening notes I had been receiving all year long. The school board supported us in this, on the condition that we (my parents and I) do not take the story to the media. I was happy with that arrangement. I had no desire to be the face of male **** victims.
We had a few meetings with an investigator from the public prosecutor’s office. A couple of months later, the office reached out, told us that the boys had pleaded guilty. One of them got off scot-free coz his dad was some senior army guy (corruption smh). Three of them got ten years each. The last one got eighteen. The topping: They were all in their fourth and final year. They got arrested just as they were about to sit for their national exams to go to university.
Their lives are ruined and I have absolutely no remorse for them.” JimmyChinosKnowsNose
1. The Professors Tried To Screw Me Out My Degree, So I Got Them Both Chucked Out
“A little background. After disappointing my parents in high school with dismal academic scores and a serious predilection for teenage rebellion, I ended up in a small-town college with a close-knit Christian community, pursuing a degree in media studies.
It wasn’t the best place I could be, but it was a fair compromise between my father’s demand that I learn a paying skill and my own yearnings for liberation.
Very quickly into this graduation program, I realized it was a waste and college was going to be a massive bore. So I spent most of my time courting (gullible) women or smoking *****. I am the kind of straggler who puts in the bare minimum so as not to upset the balance of the universe, and thus I made it to my final year without much of a fuss.
This is when two new characters entered my life.
First was a new male professor, an external faculty, a scrawny slimy fellow (SSF henceforth). He taught a major paper and was very well connected with the local Church which had a lot of say in the college administration. On Sundays, he moonlighted as pastor for a small branch of the big church. SSF also had a reputation for acting fresh with boys. I laughed about it with my friends, until one-day SSF made a pass at me.
And not a verbal one. I pushed him off me, and reminded him he is a teacher and asked him to get his act together.
SSF backed off, told me he was sorry. He had misread the signs. I cooled off, told him there were no signs, apologized for my abuses and that was that. Or so I thought. But more on that later.
The second entry was a new lecturer, a garrulous young woman. Let’s call her Rose.
She was fresh out of University, had worked a few odd jobs, and had landed this lecturing gig through some connection in the Church. She was from town, had studied in this college and knew the dean of the department well. Rose and I got off on the wrong foot to start with, a debate on art going off-hand, as I found her imagining Christian motifs and theology in Picasso. She put me down, I didn’t mind.
I wasn’t too interested either. But just to spite her, I kept turning up essays rebutting her points and she kept marking me harshly, supplementing the dismal marks with juicy opinions on what she thought of my intellect. It became a game between us.
Now I would like to imagine Rose had a roving eye, as she seemed to favor the young, good looking boys and really put down the girls in the class.
Except one. Jess had been a classmate of ours and she was a local.
So, she did not shack on campus and had kept a low profile. She did not shine, but she wasn’t disliked either. Suddenly, after Rose’s joining college, Jess started to shine in academics. Happens often when the teacher is right for the student. Rose marked her extremely high for a few assignments and this got a lot of nerds in class really jittery, who saw a new challenger in Jess for the crown of nerd king/queen.
Some of them even read the assignments that Jess has turned in and found them highly incoherent. Nothing explained the grades she was getting. This did not bother me, as grades and nerd-drama was never my thing.
But then, by a stroke of misfortune, one of our other professors, who taught us two other papers, met with an accident and was off action for almost two months. A temp was hard to find and since most of her teaching workload in those two months was going to be practical oriented, Rose very gallantly volunteered to fill in for her.
Which, it still fathoms me, she was allowed to. What it meant was that Rose was now grading our assignments and papers for three subjects and suddenly Jess’ fortunes really turned.
From being a challenger to the crown, she became the nerd queen, with her cumulative grades putting her on top of the pile. Jess just smiled through it all and made it out to be her hard work finally getting recognized. A small coterie started to gather around her.
It still didn’t bother me. My universe was still in balance.
Then one day, one of our batchmates saw Rose and Jess hanging out after college. They were shopping in some malls. Said batchmate decided to lurk around and find out what was cooking. Imagine his surprise when he saw them walk out of the mall and take the taxi together. Imagine his greater surprise, when he followed them to find out enter the same household. Picture the pure shock for the entire batch, when a day later we were all told that Jess and Rose are sisters.
****** ***** sisters. Born of the same parents. All of them still living under the same roof. Somehow both sisters had conveniently forgotten to bring it up around others when they were in college. They had pulled this subterfuge for about 4-5 months now.
A bunch of nerds ganged up and approached the dean for our courses and brought her up to date to this scenario.
Turns out dean knew all along about them being siblings and had actually encouraged Rose and Jess not to talk about it, so as not to fan talks of conflicts of interest.
And now she refused to believe that Rose was being partial to her sister. I think she didn’t want to go the trouble of replacing Rose. The nerds were heartbroken. But I was still laughing. In Rose and Jess, I saw a kind of petty evilness, that I could appreciate.
Then, for one of the papers that Rose was covering, we were assigned a practical project that required teamwork. I was put in the group with a girl I fancied and to impress her, for once I threw my minimum-effort policy out of the window.
We worked on it together and our young adult rom-com had just begun taking shape. By the time we submitted the project together, this girl and I were very much into each other. Then Rose walked in and took a *** on the project. She made it part of our game and added those choicest expletives in her remarks for both of us, that she had so far reserved only for me. Needless to say, Jess got top marks with a ***y effort.
It broke my girl’s heart. She sobbed on my shoulder, my gallantry came into question, and I was finally ready to settle some scores with Rose. But nothing major. Just a little sticking it to the man.
As I have mentioned, this story is from 13 years ago. About then, the world was waking up to social media and our college was not too far behind. In fact, our department had quite a chattery group on one such social media site (that does not exist anymore, but used to be named after a Middle-eastern Google engineer]. Rose and Jess were not in the group, but some of the faculty were.
I started writing and posting long satirical sketches of Rose, that ridiculed her teaching abilities and poked at her extra-love for baby sister. I was hoping to get some of the faculty to take notice, but mostly I just wanted to be a *** to the sisterhood. A few days in, the posts generated a lot of laughs amongst the students on the group but the faculty stayed away. Not be discouraged, I wrote my worst stinker of a skit caricaturing Rose. I will be honest – I wasn’t kind and didn’t mince my words.
It was a nasty piece of work, meant to hurt. I wrote it, posted it gloated with a few buddies who commented and forgot all about it. Here, I need to pause in my narrative –
And tell you folks about another stroke of misfortune that befell me at this point. One fine lazy afternoon, between classes, I had rolled myself a little something special and smoked that thing in the college loo. As I stepped out, after washing my eyes – I found the familiar face of SSF grinning at me.
With all the mischief and slime he could muster. The air around us reeked of smoke and SSF’s grin grew broader. He told me what my options were. He could A] tell my parents; B] tell the college; C] tell the cops. OR. D] I could give him a ****** favor and he would forget about it altogether. I thought he must be joking, but SSF held that stupid grin and slunk out of the loo, stoned and slightly scared, TBH.
I had no time to worry about any of this as I started getting frantic calls from batchmates. Rose and Jess had found out about the group and my posts.
Jess has made a few crying calls to people. And Rose was livid. The group’s moderator – one of our batchmates – panicked and deleted the entire thread. I was summoned by the dean for an emergency meeting.
When I arrived in her room, Rose and Jess were already there, sobbing bucket loads, calling me names, and holding up printouts of my posts.
I had come prepared for this and proceeded to decimate their complaint with a well-constructed and elaborate speech on how Rose’s nepotism is severely bad for the institution and student morale, and that I was only questioning her actions. Satire was just my tool to do so. Well you see, my well thought out arguments didn’t appeal to the dean. She didn’t even know what nepotism meant and I had to explain the word to her (I am not making this up.
This dean is now a local councilwoman). She told me that I had slandered Rose’s good name and brought disrepute to the college with my actions. They would have to throw me out. This I was not expecting. I had thought my speech would do the trick. I panicked. After all the effort dawdling through this course, I needed the degree.
Then gathering my wits, I told the dean that my opinions weren’t just mine alone. The nerds had brought it to her attention as well.
The dean tried to play it down, saying the nerd issue had been dealt with, but I called BS on that. I demanded she involve my entire class to see whether they would back me up on this. Rose said they won’t. Jess was sure too. The dean agreed, thinking this will sort the mess simply. No class would gang up against faculty. Like all bad managers, she did not realize that her stop-gap quick-fix solution would open a can of worms.
I was playing a gamble. I had no idea what my class would say. Sure, some of them had laughed and commented on the posts, but would they really stand up for me. I had no idea I was even that liked. But I guess the class had enough of Rose. Or they just liked my satire. Bottom line is, when Dean assembled the class and called a vote on the matter, our entire class (apart from Jess) agreed that Rose was unfair and nepotistic.
They backed me up. I had never been particularly attached to my class (except the girl).
But now I could kiss each of them. The dean had to agree that maybe, just maybe, Rose was unfit for the job. A departmental inquiry had to be instituted so that these charges could be heard. I wasn’t going to be thrown out after all.
Rose was not happy and I think she went to Church with it. For soon I found myself in front of the President of the college, along with Rose and the dean.
Rose painted it to seem like I had turned the class against her and I had inflicted psychological damage on Jess. The president consulted the dean, heard all that had happened and decided to let the inquiry make up its own mind. At this point, I began to suspect the department inquiry was going to be heavily stacked against me.
As an added bonus, the president decided that the college needed an internet communication policy – a protocol on what students and teachers can say or discuss about the college and it’s functioning over social media and the internet.
It was to include rules on how students and teachers interacted over the internet and recommend punishment for misdemeanors (This was still the nascent stages of social media folks.
Colleges didn’t know what to do back then).
Most of the college did not know about this Internet Code being formulated. I did because the dean and Rose had both taken out time from their busy teaching schedules to inform me that as soon as this Internet Code had been formulated, I would be chucked out for my actions.
My days in college were numbered. My girl cried more on my shoulder. I felt like a tragic hero, a champion of the people, who will take the fall for his brethren. My class mourned me.
In this state of mind, I returned to my dorm to find an email from SSF. He wanted to know what I had decided about his offer. In all this Rose social media fiasco, this *** had completely slipped my mind.
I wanted to write back telling SSF to *** off. Now that I was getting chucked out, his threats didn’t matter. But then something struck me. I started exchanging emails with SSF and realized he had no idea about the Rose thing or the impending Internet Code (he was an external faculty). This was God-sent. You see where all this is going now.
Well, suffice to say, that over the next couple of days, over a series of emails with SSF, I discussed my apprehensions about the offer and my hesitations as I was not gay.
I played the scared victim here, and let him coax me into ‘giving in’ to his demand. Honestly, I was just baiting him. And waiting for the president’s Code to roll out.
Sure enough, a couple of weeks later, our college unveiled its Internet Policy – banning social media for both students and teachers alike, and the usual set of guidelines to follow while interacting on the internet. By now I had gathered enough dirt on SSF.
So, when the president summoned me for a disciplinary hearing under the new internet code, I sat down and wrote the speech I was going to give to the president. My girl was in on this and she helped me with it. Once I was confident about what to say, I printed out the email exchange, neatly bounded it all together into one file and headed to the president a little before the appointed hour. I met him and showed him the entire email exchange.
I wanted to know how SSF’s emails to me scored on this Internet codebook. Would it look good if I had to drag the professor, a pastor at that, and the college to court for ****** harassment? What would a good Christian town say about that? That did the trick.
His tone changed, he saw my angle in all of this and promised action. I also told the president that the dean sucked at her job which is why creeps like SSF and nepotistic **** like Rose ran riot.
Now I didn’t want any of them – Rose, the dean or SSF – to be able to screw my career. The president assured me that they won’t be left capable to do that, but I had to keep my mouth shut about those emails. I took the deal. A week later, I signed a non-disclosure with the college, handed them all the printouts and deleted my emails under their lawyer’s supervision.
SSF’s contract with the college was terminated and he was expelled from his church.
No one knew why. His life was destroyed, he hasn’t had a job since and last heard, he was living with and off his mother. The dean was ‘let go’ and she discovered a second career in politics and went onto become a councilwoman, which she still is. Rose was ‘let go’ as well, while Jess finished college quietly without much fuss. Last heard, both sisters together run a store in town.
I graduated with distinctions in all papers that Rose and SSF handled (thanks to the president’s intervention 😉 Which put me pretty high on the merit list.
And made the nerds jealous.
I was just a pesky senior who screwed up but got lucky when a professor hit on me. And yes, the college had a new Internet Usage Policy.” godmode_deip
Chances are, you won’t be taking big revenge on someone anytime soon – or maybe ever. But reading others’ marvelous revenge stories is unquestionably pleasurable, almost as enjoyable as taking revenge yourself, only without any risks or potential consequences.
If you have more time on your hands, read more entertaining pro revenge stories here!