People Share Their Stories Of Glorious Revenge

Having to resort to “getting back at someone” isn’t always the most natural course of action. The thought is generally dreamed up when the person has been taken advantage of or treated in a way that’s downright dreadful. No one wants to look like a fool, or feel shame. Therefore, it takes a bit of careful crafting and calculation to come up with a retaliation. Here’s the best part – to have been done wrong first means you get the final say to get even and ultimately put an end to what was started. That is glorious revenge, folks.

It’s like someone else throwing the first punch, and you get to knock them out, case closed. Someone starts, and you finish it by teaching a lesson, once and for all. The final say. The last laugh. Whatever you want to call it, read on for some fine examples of people who got the short end of the stick, but ended up pulling off a mastermind plan to end the wrongdoing with a sweet revenge.
12. He Was Stealing Lunches, So I Spiked His Burger…

“I was working a very demanding job.

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

A few of us noticed our lunches were being eaten. Typically, it was anything in a bag from a restaurant or a Tupperware container. Often all the lunches were pilfered and dessert or snack items were taken. We spoke to management about it but they were hesitant to do anything. They suggested it was one of us doing it to our fellow shift members.
One day, my entire lunch, drinks, everything was taken. I had to buy candy bars and soda to eat, and a co-worker shared some of his remaining lunch with me.

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

I stopped by McDonald’s on the way to work the next few days and ordered a quarter pounder with the cheese on the side. I had gathered some palmetto bugs (giant flying roaches, about 2 inches long) and put two on the burger and placed the cheese on the top. I then labeled the bag and put it in the fridge. I was careful to throw it away each day and replace it with a new one.

I really, REALLY wanted to burn this *******.
On day 3, I came down to the lunchroom and the bag was in the garbage. I was just giddy thinking of what happened. I dug through the trash and found the bag, the box from the burger and the burger with a few big bites out of it. Our entire shift was laughing our butts off all night. In the morning, I was told to stick around and meet with the plant manager. I was confused and scared, but I technically did nothing wrong.

I get sent into his office and here is a second shift employee, recently hired, and the brother of a long time employee. I’m told how he ate some food and a person had placed roaches on it.

So I was the bad guy. I explained that I did, in fact, have a burger with roaches on it, but that’s my business. He shouldn’t have been stealing food, he countered by saying that he thought it was his. I pulled the bag out of my backpack. With my name on each side. He wanted to receive an apology and be excused from work for his inconvenience.
The manager said he would discuss it further with me and asked him to leave. He said he knew I had set a trap, I didn’t respond. He started laughing and said he would give him a written warning for stealing food. But I was told not to put any roach food in the fridge from that day forward.

I told EVERYONE I talked to that he was the one stealing food. His brother tried to make me the bad guy for baiting him with a roach burger, but the damage was done. He was being trash talked and confronted all week.  Finally, he resigned.
I still get a good laugh thinking about him biting into the burger and getting juicy roach guts in his mouth.” keepingItreal24-7

11. He Had A Laundry List Of Criminal Offenses, I Found Out Just In Time

“I met a guy while vacationing in California one summer, a really nice guy and he always wanted to do something fun and different every day. From hiking, paintballing, swimming, or going out on the ocean. After the vacation ended, we kept in touch and over the course of the next year, we decided I would move to California.

I work in healthcare as a nurse so getting a job almost anywhere isn’t tough, but as the new nurse, your hours are going to be crappy. No surprise, so after we’ve lived together for a few months and working terrible hours, they go back to normal hours and we can really spend more time together.
I’m not really one to snoop around, he had a safe in the bedroom where we kept basic safe stuff like passports, SS cards, birth certificates etc., but one day I had to produce my birth certificate and had to go into the safe while he wasn’t home.

I found my birth certificate easily but next to it was a birth certificate with an entirely different name and DOB than what his was so I asked him about it and he got super defensive and yelled at me for snooping.

Totally out of character for him as I’ve never seen him yell before. I still wanted to know *** and based on his reaction and the fact I moved to a different state to be with him, I deserved to know if he was hiding anything.
A few days later he finally tells me the truth, he used to be married and has twins. This caught me off guard because normally you tell someone you are in a relationship with if you have kids. That doesn’t bother me as much as him using a different name, however.

So he decides this is the time to be totally honest with me, tells me he didn’t want to pay child support or alimony because she was cheating on him but he couldn’t prove it in court and he believed the kids weren’t his (even though he also admitted they did a paternity test and he’s the father…***).

So he simply started using his old friend’s name and information that he for some reason had after they were college roommates. So, so many red flags are now flying.. why did he have his roommate’s birth certificate and social security number? He never did answer that and Googling the name never did turn anything up.

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

So I moved out that very night to sleep on another nurse’s couch. He, however, refused to leave me alone and eventually started to threaten me over the phone. Big mistake, you just admitted to skipping out on child support, alimony, court orders, and identity theft.

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

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

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

I then started searching his name and everything through his home states court access site and found out he was sentenced to 6 years for the credit cards, motor vehicle theft, theft of a firearm and several contempts of court charges.

I kept in contact with the ex-wife for a bit, she was thankful they finally found him. Also for a bit more on top of it all, it turns out once he gets out of prison in his home state, he will be arrested and charged for the stuff that they uncovered and figured out in California over the past few years.

Turns out he also did a good amount of credit card fraud out there.
So don’t threaten to ‘smash’ someone’s face in for breaking up with you if you are committing identity theft and are on the run from child support.” ******************

10. The Divorce That Took Everything Away From The Woman

“Started a few years ago. I thought we were happy. We were your usual suburban professional couple. Financially secure, healthy, good love life, two kids (14f and 9m at the time). I thought we had a healthy social life.

We were going through one of your typical married couple rough patches. Both of us were working long hours, not spending enough time together, we were going through some developmental problems with my son and tensions in the house were running a little high.

I noticed that she was spending a lot more time on her phone texting with her ‘girlfriends.’ I didn’t think much of it. I started making a much more concerted effort to get out of work when I could, help around the house and be more emotionally available. But over the course of a few weeks, the gulf just kept getting wider.
I ended up accidentally finding some messages when I charged up an old iPad for my son to use. Her FB messenger was still logged in and there were a lot of highly questionable messages with a guy from her hometown who I will call JimBobCooter or JBC for short. The messages weren’t completely inappropriate, but I could tell there were quite a few missing based on the times and context of the messages.

I made a mental note to keep an eye on this and went about trying to fix things up.
The next day, after I took the day off to knock out some projects that I thought would make her happy, and left her some sweet notes reminding her how much I appreciated her. She was once again in the corner of the living room ‘texting her girlfriends.’
I took the boys iPad to the office, opened up FB messenger and watched in real time as my wife tore me down. Her and JBC were making fun of me. All of my flaws, insecurities, and secrets I entrusted to my partner were now fodder for her and JBC. Not only that, but while there wasn’t outright sexting there was a ****** undertone to the whole conversation, especially when she was bashing my performance in the sack.

I managed to take some screenshots, but missed a good bit of the messages, because as the conversation was unfolding she was deleting them.
I wasn’t emotionally capable of confronting her. I stayed in the office until she was asleep and had a few drinks.

I took off the next day and spent some time soul searching, drinking and trying to figure out what to do. The wife came home and wanted to know what was wrong. I just copped out and told her I had a bad day. A couple of minutes later, I was watching the iPad as the train wreck kept unfolding.
So began a couple of solid weeks of taking screenshots, drinking and detaching myself from the relationship. I knew there was no going back from this.

The messages were now overtly ****** with my wife completely into it, and JBC was sprinkling in ‘I love you’s.’
I consulted a lawyer, got my options, and started moving forward.

Here’s where everything got absolutely surreal. Watching the messages, I found out JBC was coming to town to spend a weekend of quality time with my wife in a pretty nice hotel. I was missing a good bit of the info, they must have had a phone conversation about it at some point, but I was able to infer enough to get the when and where.
The next day, the wife is buttering me up and wanting to take a spa weekend with the girls to relax and when she gets back, we can really focus on our marriage.

I go with it all the way. It’s the greatest idea she’s ever had, and I’ll do anything to get us back on track.
I get with the lawyer and have him draft a strong separation agreement stating that she would move out, she would get weekend visitation, no child support in the interim until the divorce is final. Then I sit through the most agonizing two weeks of my life. After all this, most of my feelings for her are completely gone, and I’m just seething with anger as I’ve never felt before.
D-day arrives. I take the day off work. I withdraw half of any money in any accounts we are joint on, leave her half alone. I had already redirected my paycheck to a new bank.

I close our money market account and get a cashier’s check for her half and deposit my half in my new account. I stop at Office Max and print out about 75 pages of FB messenger screenshots, and I kill time because I don’t want to be at home.
She texts me that she’s taking off and that she loves me. I tell her to have fun.
I show up to the hotel at about 8:30 and call the wife’s phone from the lobby. It goes straight to voicemail. They are probably already at it, whatever. I walk up to the front desk and ask if I can use the phone to be connected to JBC’s room. It rings three times and he picks up.

JBC: ‘Hello?’

Me: ‘JBC, can you send my wife down to the lobby, please?’

JBC: ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, bro.’

Me:’ Ok then. I guess I’ll have to call Mrs. JBC and get her down here (totally a bluff – I knew he was married, and I knew her first name but that was it)’
JBC: (Inaudible, shuffling, panic)

Me: ‘You got five minutes. Click.’

Not even two minutes later my wife comes walking out of the elevator looking a little flustered. I sit her down in the corner of the lobby.

Her: Starts spewing ******** saying it’s not what it seems, etc..

Me: ‘I’m not here to argue. The things that are said in this pile of papers are what’s going on. The only way I’m not giving a copy of this to our daughter, your parents and emailing it to everyone we know, is if you move out immediately.

(Wife was very prideful. Our daughter was going through a rebellious teen phase and her knowing probably would have forever killed their relationship. Wife was also her parent’s golden child and she always worried about what they thought of her. I didn’t have much leverage and shame was my only card to play. Also, her professional life is built up around her image, so I knew she would protect that at all costs.)
Her: Sniffle, mumble, inaudible

Me: ‘This is a check for half of the money market account. I’ve withdrawn my half of the money from all the other joint accounts. You should have more than enough to get a place.’

She starts to cry a little. I could almost see the different thoughts and waves of emotions going through her, but now was the time to keep pressing.

Me: ‘Here is a separation agreement that I think is more than fair considering what’s going on. I’m going to need you to look this over, sign it, and leave it at the house when you get your stuff. Do you want to look through these screenshots?’
Her: ‘No.’

Me: ‘Ok. Go have fun with JBC. Do not come back to the house or I’m going to send this (holds up a ream of screenshots) to everyone.’

I bounce out of the lobby, and I can hear her start to have a breakdown. I get to the car, drive off to a parking lot and have my own crying rage fit. Previously, I would have cried in front of her and yelled and whatnot but I managed to get my crap together enough to pull it off.

I don’t know what she did that night or over the weekend. She texted and called over and over wanting to talk. I just turned the phone off and by the time Monday afternoon rolled around, there were movers getting her stuff and she delivered the agreement. I let her have a talk with the kiddos basically saying mommy and daddy need some time apart, we still love you, etc etc. Standard divorce talk.
After a week, she wants to have a real talk for the first time. I oblige because I’ve already got my **** together and I’ve got an idea of what I want, but I should hear her out.

She’s so sorry. She wants another chance. She wants her family back.

She’ll do anything. She’s on her knees crying into my lap. I have no intention of ever taking her back.

I tell her she needs to set up marriage counseling on her own at a time that works for me. I tell her that I can’t live with her, but she should be around the children to try to maintain a relationship with them.
So, starts our new normal of her coming over the house, cooking and having dinner with the kids three nights a week (she always saved me a plate, I made myself scarce), her cleaning the house and doing the kids laundry then heading back to her place.

We went to counseling. It consisted of her working through her issues with the therapist trying to figure out why she did it, her begging for forgiveness, and me stoically playing the victim.

I was never going to give her another chance. All I wanted to do was kill time, establish myself as the primary caregiver to the kids, and establish her as not having residency in the house.
After a few months, I go to my own therapist and get diagnosed with depression and PTSD. I ask my work if it’s possible to go to part-time for the foreseeable future to deal with personal issues, and it’s no big deal.

After six months of therapy, I told her that I couldn’t forgive her right now and that I wanted an amicable divorce, but she is still the love of my life and maybe someday we could give it another try. She was devastated but agreed to the divorce if I promised to try again someday.

Once the divorce was filed I needed the kids to want to stay with me. I left a google search for ‘How to survive your wife’s infidelity’ up on the shared PC at home, and I left some printed out infidelity articles not so hidden in the kitchen. My daughter found them and came to me crying. I told her she wasn’t supposed to find those, that mom made a mistake, that mom still loves her, and that I would always be here for her. My daughter who used to hold my wife in such high regard now wouldn’t talk to her without screaming, and it crushed her.
Not surprisingly when the court needed statements from the kids a few months later, little brother followed big sisters lead and they both wanted to stay with Dad in the house they grew up in.

When the divorce was finalized, I got the house (had to buy out some of her equity, but that’s ok). I got primary custody of the kids. I got awarded generous child support due to the difference in our incomes due to me working part-time.

Now for the last two years, I’ve gotten to live in the house with my kids, work part-time, get the now ex to subsidize it for me, and when she takes the kids over the weekends I get to have my fun with Tinderellas and some FWBs I’ve cultivated.
In the eyes of my kids, I’m the patron saint of fatherhood for taking the high road and always being there.

In the eyes of my ex, I’m the one that got away, the one that she will always pine for, and I get the bonus of having her come over for *** whenever I want it by dangling that carrot of maybe getting back together.

But that is never going to happen. [deleted]

9. She Proved Me Gay And Slept With Other Men…

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

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

Long story short, BB had a female friend who was looking for a date for a movie that coming weekend. I offered to go with his friend (BIG mistake), and she and I hit it off rather well and continued to see each other. Months pass, it hasn’t been enough time for me to consider marriage yet, but she has some spontaneous ailments (seizures and they were legit) spring up out of nowhere. Since these only seemed to happen in her sleep, and my command wouldn’t let me stay off-post with her without being married… LIGHTBULB!
We got a courtroom wedding 2 weeks later. The added bonus? Not only could I stay with her while she slept to be ready in case of another episode, but my Tricare would fully cover her medical costs.

I was happy, she was happy, I got to tell my command, ‘Now you can’t stop me from staying with her,’ and we all lived happily ever after.

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

Well, as luck would have it, right as I started to get suspicious, I had to go to Korea.

So, sidelining the investigation until I was able to continue, I packed, kissed my wife goodbye, and let the Army send me where they wanted me. I spent a year in Korea, then came down on orders for Texas. I went there. It was there that I found out exactly what was going on, courtesy of her mom, brother, and her aunt and uncle.
This woman was sleeping with 60 (not even kidding in the slightest) different men, most of them soldiers. Her excuse to her family was, “Frizzmaster (me) is gay, and doesn’t want to come out. So, he’s pointing out the men I can sleep with since he knows that they’re clean.”
So, basically, this woman is using me as a paycheck and meal ticket and sleeping with everything with a pulse that happens to be male.

The icing on the cake is that 2 weeks after I get the good news, she calls me and confesses to cheating on me – once. The only reason she confessed? She was pregnant, and there was no way I could be the father, given that I was in a different state at the time….and the father was African American.
I am very much not African American, having been called ‘neon white’ on more than one occasion due to my Irish ancestry. So, there was no possible way this child would look like me, at all. So, my wife felt the need to break the news to me before she had the baby because she could no longer hide it.

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

I started divorce proceedings.

This is revenge #1. I saw her BOYFRIEND (not the baby’s father, new guy entirely) driving my car. So, I enlisted the help of her aunt and uncle to get my car back. They pulled up behind him in a parking lot, got out and talked to him normally, at which time I waked up from the other side of the parking lot. Her uncle asked to see the keys, and upon receiving them, began taking the car key off of the ring, and waved me forward.
I walked up, took the car key from him, looked at the guy, and said, ‘Hi, my name is Frizzmaster, and this is my car. I’m taking it now.’ I waved him over to the sidewalk, removed everything from the car that didn’t have my name on it, left the items with him, then got in my car and drove off.

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

The exact words used by the judge were, ‘I’m sorry, but without proof of paternity of the child, I cannot, in good conscience, approve either of these motions.’

So, we set a new date for a private hearing with the judge, and we wait. Nearly 3 months go by, and the court date was finally near. I walked into the courthouse, met up with my lawyer (who had a demonic glint in his eye at the time, and I was about to find out why), went into the courtroom, and waited. 20 minutes later, Sheila walked in, shot me a dirty look (which I did my best to ignore), and sat down.
The judge came in 5 minutes later, the court was called to order, and the divorce trial commenced.

Here, I found out just what had given my lawyer the twinkle in his eye earlier on. He proceeded to ask Sheila a series of questions, including:

“Is my client the father of your child?”

“When was the child conceived?”

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

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

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

Basically, he questioned her into a legal corner in which she either had to answer truthfully or lie and suffer the legal ramifications of perjury in the face of easily provable evidence. She answered truthfully (lucky for her), and the court case continued. She presented her argument, littered with dirt she was trying to throw at me, insults to my person, questions about my ****** orientation, and claims that I was having a relationship with her 18-year-old cousin.

I, falling back on my military training, simply sat up straight, folded my hands in front of me on the table, and stared at a spot on the wall slightly above the judges’ left shoulder. I answered every question asked of me, offered no personal opinions, threw no dirt, and refused to sink to her level and question her *********. Subsequently, she had a more and more confused look on her face as I refrained from bad-mouthing her like she was doing me, and the divorce trial went by rather fast.

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

The judge took one last look over the papers, set them down, and spoke the greatest words I have ever heard in my life.
“Well, looking over the evidence and testimonies presented, there really is only one decision I can come to. Mr. Frizzmaster, I am approving your motions for the exclusive use of the vehicle and property, upon undeniable evidence of adultery. Mrs. Frizzmaster, the only one of your motions I am granting today is your request for a no-contact order, and that is more for Mr. Frizzmaster’s benefit than your own. You seemed very combative and willing to cause him legal damage that he was not due, and your repeated attempts to over-talk me while I was reviewing the paperwork did not speak well of you.

You no longer have a claim to either the property or the vehicle, and will not contact Mr. Frizzmaster unless it is to have him clarify which items do not belong to you.”
Sheila had the audacity to work up a sniffle and ask the judge, “B…bbb…bbbut where do I go? What do I do for a place to live?”

The judge looked back at her and replied: ‘Well, Mrs. Frizzmaster, you have 30 days to figure that out, after which you will not set foot on that property again, or else you will be held in contempt of court.” Frizzmaster

8. They Blamed Me For Stealing, All I Did Was Prove Them Wrong…

So after finishing a design program in school, I quit my temp job in financial services and started to focus on design.

A couple of friends were at a small events company that also had their own TV show, a video game, and lifestyle TV show, and they needed someone to help out on the show and do some of the other design work around the studio so that they could focus on pre-production. Sounded amazing, so I went into their offices sat with them for a chat and started the same day.
At first, all was good. The boss seemed okay. He asked me to get a coffee with him (Let’s call him Drake) and kind of probed my background. I went to film school, worked as a camera assist and dop for a while before switching my focus to motion design and 3D.

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

Getting quotes from suppliers and then in the middle of the project calling and demanding they lower their quote or not be paid. Making behind the scenes deals with sponsors of the show to take marketing budgets put it into the show but then split the money with the marketing manager who made the deal, taking prizes that were intended as giveaways for the show and just selling the product on eBay to line his pockets.
All the while, I figured, I’ve been here a while, I see him burn people every day, but surely it won’t happen to me. He owes me more than that. I’m making this show for him, did the title sequence, the graphics package, secured sponsors, organized social media, shot the show, edited, mastered and delivered.

Oh, how wrong I was.

Things started getting worse, a bunch of big events were happening, and in addition to the show, I had to help out with the events work, I was burnt out but had a trip coming up, so had to stick it out until it was all paid for and over. I had already decided I was going to leave for my trip and not return to the company. In the weeks before my leave, the major event happened and during the event, something with some location audio went wrong, it didn’t really have anything to do with me, but he grabbed me by the collar and told me if I didn’t fix it he would kill me.

That was my ‘whoa’ moment. This guy is actually a sociopath. I figured I needed to take some precautions to protect myself as I still had a week until I’d be leaving and then I was out. I started by packing all of my gear at the studio and getting it out of there. Each day I’d stay back late and pack as much as I could. By this point, the whole show was operating on my equipment, my camera, my lenses, my sound equipment, my raids, my software licenses. So I got that all out. I then backed up every piece of correspondence I had from him, all my invoice emails, any requests in writing, any receipts, etc.
I got my last invoice in, and let him know that I was off and would see him when I got back (again no plans of going back, but best to keep that from him until my invoices were paid out).

On the day of my flight, he called me five or six times asking about footage from the major event. It was all stored on my drive but wasn’t scheduled to be cut down until well after my return. This was an insurance policy. Technically I signed no contract with him, so I owned that footage. I called him and said it’s not scheduled to be cut down yet, but it’s on the server, knowing he wouldn’t know how to check that anyway.
A week into my trip, I sent an email asking why my invoices hadn’t been paid yet. I had previously asked that they are prioritized given my holiday, and he agreed. I was met with an email from the troll he hired as an ‘events coordinator’ but really she was just the receptionist with a fancy title.

She stated that there was an ongoing police investigation, as I had clearly robbed the office before leaving. All of the equipment was missing, drives, footage erased from the server (not true), etc. She included a police event number and said if I didn’t return all equipment and pay the company $5,000.00, they would be pressing charges against me. I laughed and fired back that all of the missing equipment is mine, but I’m happy to look over any receipts they have for it.
I immediately called the police and gave the officer the event number and asked what was going on. She explained that a woman (the office troll) came in and made claims that I had stolen from the business but had no evidence and was advised she would need to provide proof, but never returned to do so.

I told her about them demanding I pay up $5,000.00 or they’d press charges. The police officer took a statement from me in case it went further as this was a clear case of extortion.

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

I got all of those backed up emails together, that prove I was working on the days I invoiced them, and since my invoices are itemized by project, those emails should match with the specific projects I was working on.

Step 2,  I start hitting him where it hurts. For starters their only software licenses were mine. Prior to my arrival, they were operating entirely on pirated software. I didn’t touch any of their software while doing work for them. 3D was handled on my own machines. We started doing post in the creative cloud and I left their pirated FCP licenses alone. So aside from uninstalling my own software and plugins from their machines, everything was back to the way it was before I left.

So I reported his company to the BSA (The Software Alliance) and was surprised when I heard back immediately. Drake was running 5 or so edit suites with pirated copies of Creative Suite, FCP, Microsoft Office, Maya, 3DS Max, etc. A lot of expensive software. The guy who emailed me back asked if he could call me and basically told me that they often have no way of knowing if a company is using pirated software so they really rely on tips such as mine to go after companies. I forwarded him emails where I had advised Drake that we needed a specific piece of software and the cost involved and his responses where he would CC me in and ask the ‘IT guy’ to pirate the software.

This was pretty much all they needed to fully implicate Drake. The guy then asked me to let them know how many computers were in the office and I provided him with a map of Drake’s office, with locations for each computer and the server, and a list of all software on each machine. Really easy to get this as I still had access to their servers and could remote into each computer.
Step 3,  I discredit the business. I put out some business reviews on Google so that people would know what kind of shady operation Drake is running. I filed a copyright claim against their showreel since the entire reel was made up of projects I did for them and I never signed over those rights.

I commandeered a web player service they were using to host and monetize the TV show and removed each episode and deleted the account. I took over their Twitter page and posted info about how the company would rip off clients. I emailed a couple of major games expo’s who he had partnered with for both the events and TV show and let them know about how he would regularly have me alter footage to make it appear as though he was delivering on contractual obligations, (comp in twitch.tv logos to make it seem like he was live streaming events, add banners where there weren’t any, etc.). Minor things, but things these companies were paying him to do. I even adjusted the “About Me” part of the website.

And it wasn’t very flattering.
Now I still had a friend working there, so I was informed of every reaction. Every time he shouted my name in anger I knew about it. The BSA fined him over $60,000. When Drake heard the news, he threw his iPhone against the glass wall in his office smashing it. I received a very nice reward for turning him in. He held out on paying my invoices until the very end sending threatening emails the whole time and demanding that I pay him money for the trouble I’ve put him through. It went to court, I didn’t need to attend. I won the entirety of my invoices as well as the cost of taking him to court.

He basically paid for me to sue him.
That year was the last year for the show, likely had trouble getting sponsors after I emailed all of them about the way he was selling prizes on eBay and sent them a link to his eBay store page. He also no longer had involvement in some of the major gaming expos he’d previously done events work for, – those two losses would have cost him a few hundred grand a year. The page on the website was up for months, when he found it, he again smashed his phone, this time though, he didn’t have a glass wall to break, as he had to move out of the very nice office with water views to a small sh*tty office in a strip mall.

I think he was having financial difficulties.
It was on this night that he drunk called me and threatened to kill me. I celebrated his call by deleting all of the footage I had taken of that major event, the budget for the event was over a million dollars, and a lot of that footage was the only proof he had even done the event. Five camera operator’s footage, crane footage, drone footage of the venue, all recorded sound from mics, all gone. Knowing he’d never be able to get that back was great. Plus his threatening phone call along with the extortion attempts that were on file were enough to get a restraining order put out against him, and I cannot wait until he inevitably messes up and tries to do something again.” Mangelius
7. I Told My Dad The Truth About Me – The Perfect Revenge…

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

All of us have been, us being me, my younger brother, little sister and my mother. My father is a raging *******. A male chauvinist, over the top macho type of guy. And I’ve always been the victim because I didn’t really fit in with his image of ‘the ideal son.’ I was, for lack of a better word, a bit of a girly boy growing up. I wanted nothing more than to dance and frolic around in dresses.
When I was four or five, my mother had this big box of dress-up clothes. She brought it down from the attic and I immediately picked out the prettiest, frilliest golden colored dress I could find. I pranced around in it and declared myself a princess.

And that I was now a girl. This went on for a few months, but strictly during the day when my father was away at work. I watched ballet videos with my mother, a soft-spoken and open-minded woman who worked part-time as a social worker in those days. I was happy. Careless.

My father was and is an authoritarian figure. He had himself legally emancipated at an early age just so he could join the army ahead of time. After three years in the army, he left as a lower level officer and started a career as a seaman. He was a captain when he and my mother met and had me. Later he left his naval career and became a traveling salesman.

Think Don ******, if Don ****** was a 6’4″ Western European man with curly greying hair and piercing blue eyes. I’ve always found him incredibly intimidating and I think my mother did too.
Anyway, long story short… he came home early one day. He saw me in my dress and told me in an icy cold voice, ‘Go and take that off. After you take it off, go sit on the sofa.’

So, I took it off. Little hands trembling. Next, he summoned my mother into the room, and demanded to know, ‘what the **** she had been doing to his boy.’ I’ve never seen a person shrink so much so quickly. I myself was like a little tiny fly on the wall at this point, barely present.

He took the box with clothes up to the attic. Put a lock on it and informed us that we were not to touch it “until my wife gives me a daughter”. It stayed there on the attic, untouched until my sister was born ten years later.
My father took more of an interest in my upbringing after this point. He took me to see navy ships, races, made me take a martial art. He seemed determined to “make a man out of me” and in some ways, he succeeded. One thing he allowed me to do was keep my hair long. Knowing I was bullied at school for it and wanted at times to cut it off for that reason. He insisted I kept the long hair, face the bullies and beat the sh$t out of them every time they called me a girl, to “show them how much of a girl I was”.

I did just that. It toughened me up, in some way. But it also damaged me in other ways.
By the time I went to college, I had grown into a pretty normal dude. I wasn’t gay, I wasn’t even a crossdresser although deep down inside I still had those urges. I tried desperately to fit in and be what he wanted me to be but… I also grew more and more resentful. In college, I made a lot of different friends. Including some guys I met in an acting class we all took. One of them was pretty much your typical ‘flaming and fabulous’ type of guy. He was as over-the-top gay as my father was over-the-top straight. I told him one night when we’re drinking about my upbringing and my terrible father.

And my friend, let’s call him Paul, suggested I should ‘get back at him.’ I asked him how. Basically, why not pretend like I wasn’t straight?
But not just, say it over the phone or something. Or even to my father’s face in person. No, much better… I’d hint for weeks in advance about ‘having met somebody’ and ‘being in a relationship.’ I’d say it was a girl. I would ask if I could bring ‘Paula’ over for dinner. At Christmas. When the whole family would be there. And I’d arrive at the house with ‘Paul’ instead. So I did exactly that. I went to the house, at Christmas. Dressed to the nines. I told my father and mother that ‘Paula was caught up, she’s about to come.

I’ll just open the door.’ So I sat down with my family. Cousins. Uncles, aunts. My grandparents, just as conservative as my father.
Waited a while. Heard the door and rushed to open it. Walked into the living room where everyone was gathered and introduced Paul. My boyfriend. I’ve never seen a room go so quiet. People literally gasped for air. My sister, brother, and mother looked both scared and amused, but everyone else was in shock, my father seething… he just completely lost it. Right in front of everyone. Veins bulging in his neck to the point where they looked like they were about to pop. He told me to leave. Ordered me, essentially. My grandparents urged him not to make a scene but he made one.

I just replied calmly how he should do it. Call the police and explain the situation to them. I knew he never would. He knew some of the officers well; it wasn’t a call he would be willing to make and it wasn’t a situation he was willing to explain. I called his bluff and he just… sank. Like he shrank before my eyes. My mother and grandmother had to calm him down. He walked out of the room, defeated. I just stood there, not believing my own eyes. I finally felt free. He had scared me for so many years, terrified me, and now I could see him for the caricature he really was. It felt amazing.
Paul and I stayed the whole evening.

He played his part perfectly. He eventually managed to charm some of my aunts and even my grandmother, who told me unironically how she was glad, ‘I found such a delightful man,’ and that he reminded her of her favorite TV character, ‘Mr. Humphreys from “Are You Being Served?” such a doll!’ My father later came back to the room. Sat in a corner, sulking, refusing to meet my gaze. He drank too much whiskey. My mother kept talking to him in a hushed tone of voice, and he kept making a ‘go away’ gesture with his hand.
I stayed away from home for a while. I’ve already explained to everyone how it had been a prank. How I had to make a point and get back at my father for how he had treated me.

Pretty much everyone sympathized. I didn’t lose anyone in my family over what happened. But my father lost a lot of respect in people’s eyes, I feel. He was always in control of things, he always directed the scene, but now he doesn’t anymore. I do my own thing. My sister does her own thing. He cannot order people around anymore. And I feel like a fool for ever letting him. I can now wear whatever the **** I want to wear, enjoy whatever hobbies I want to enjoy and nothing changes. He threatened to disinherit me that night. He threatened a lot of things but in the end, something inside him just broke. All of my relationships since have been with women, and I have since married and had children of my own.

My younger brother came out as gay eventually, but by that time, my now aging father had mellowed down somewhat and as he already has grandchildren and his legacy is thus ‘secured,’ he didn’t seem to mind much. It helps that my brother is a muscular gymrat and that they can bond over sports, more than my father and I ever did. But whenever the subject of ********* comes up my father is still incredibly awkward. I don’t think it will ever change. But I feel my ‘revenge’ has been pretty successful in the end.”  Frownagay
6. The Meanest Teacher Came Back Into Our Lives And We Knew Exactly What To Do

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

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

The reason I tried out was that those girls, you know the ones-pretty, popular, teacher favorites-laughed at me when I showed up for the informational meeting. They said I wasn’t right for it and didn’t belong. It made me more determined to learn the routines and become a little more fit so I could do them. I was flexible as much as a 14-year-old could be but at home, I practiced and stretched and showed up for the rehearsals and tryouts. Only a couple of decent girls would not act like I was poison in the line when we had to link our arms.

I passed tryouts because I could do the routine.
My dad, who owned his own business doing car repair, wasn’t rich, but he managed to pay for my camp fees and uniforms. He dropped me off each morning of summer camp on his way to work. There, we learned the routines we would be performing at pep rallies and football games. We had to stand out in the sweltering Louisiana heat and humidity in August and stand in position for minutes at a time. If you moved out of position, you had to do ‘kicks.’ This was a version of pushups or having to run laps where you stood and did sets of 25 high kicks for each infraction. I ended up with blisters on my upper arms from the sun.

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

She could understand why the other girl was sitting, as she was an ‘athlete’ so she got a pass (she played basketball).
The cranky teacher would yell at me from across the gym to suck in my stomach. She told me I was rude when I was eating lunch with everyone else and laughing at something someone said and coughed on my sandwich. The other girls would say things to me also, and it was as though she encouraged it. Not only is junior high bad enough, but this on top of it was bad. I tried to be strong and show them I could do it but it made me cry as soon as I got home.

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

The teacher went to the bathroom and came back with one girl who was caught smoking in the bathroom with some high school kids. The girl caught smoking was punished and was told she had to sit out the next game. My dad was running late (he had to work and couldn’t just leave his shop unattended) and after about 30 minutes the teacher told me, ‘You know this means you’re off the team.’
My dad pulled up a few minutes later and as soon as I got in his truck, I was sobbing. I told him what happened and he said ‘Just a minute, I’ll be right back,’ and proceeded to rip that woman a new one about her attitude towards me.

Years later, this woman brings her car to my dad’s shop for repair. He remembers her but she doesn’t remember him. She was just as condescending as she had ever been, treating him like a lowly servant under her because he did manual labor. He was writing her an estimate for the insurance and she kept trying to get him to add in stuff that wasn’t caused by the accident she was there for. Things like a ding on the back bumper when the damage was in the front, etc. He wouldn’t do it and she got all huffy and said something like if he didn’t,  she would have his license revoked.
Now since my dad had his shop broken into and tools stolen, he had installed cameras.

He sent that video to the insurance adjuster (one he had a steady relationship within his line of business), and she got hit with attempting insurance fraud charges. I don’t know the exact extent of it but she should be glad her threats to his livelihood weren’t added on there.” happytrails1 

5. He Didn’t Break Up With Her-He Made Her Mom Do It…

“A friend of mine found out his girlfriend of two years was cheating on him.  He was literally crying in his car for a few days — he was planning on marriage and kids and the white picket fence with her. He didn’t tell her he knew, he told her that he was going to his parent’s house for a few days to help them with some repairs.

Instead, he hung out with us and cried, literally cried in front of his buddies, for a couple of days, so we helped him get out of it. He sobered up and told us how he was going to destroy her and I didn’t even understand it at the time. But he was headed to a famous law school and was thinking way ahead of us.
He drove to his girlfriend’s mother’s house, over an hour outside of town with her items from his apartment nicely boxed up, and said he wanted to leave them with her for [GF]. GF’s mom and he had met several times, he had gone to their Thanksgiving, etc. GF’s mom was like, OK, but why? Not suspecting anything was wrong.

And he said something brief like, ‘I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other again, but I needed to get this box back to her. But thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.’ GF’s mom is stunned and tries to ask why and what and everything but my friend just starts crying (I don’t think intentionally) and runs off and drives away. He never broke up with the GF — never even contacted her — she heard about it from her mom, who called her immediately, and he received confused and angry texts from the now-ex on his drive home. A little while later (at least a couple of weeks) he gets an email from the GF’s mom, I don’t remember the specifics, but it was not ‘I apologize for my daughter’ but more like ‘I hope you find a woman who loves you unconditionally’ or something to that effect.

He responded with something like, ‘Thanks, your note means a lot to me.’ Nothing negative.
Dude is now an up-and-coming lawyer, and still gets texts from the ex saying that she constantly hears from her mom how she ruined it with the one good guy she had and how she doesn’t deserve to be happy. The friend has never responded to one text and blocked her from FB. Of course, this was all 100% planned – my friend wanted the hurt to come from someone who would stay in his ex’s life, not from someone who would be quickly forgotten. He deliberately created a rift in the closest relationship that two women can have. And all in a friendly 60-second conversation with no harsh words or accusations.”  70127
4. I Put Squid All Over Her Backyard 

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

So this all started in high school. My best friend (we’ll call her) Jane was in an on-again-off-again relationship with a guy (we’ll call) Bill.

Jane and I went back basically to birth. She was the bratty twin sister I never had. We were friends and never anything more. This was a strictly platonic friendship. So we grow up and go to different high schools in different parts of town. We kept in touch and caught up on everything in our lives. But during sophomore year Jane met Bill in the theater program at her high school. From then on there was no catching up, just listening to the relationship status of these two.
Bill was fine, I guess, but he would go out with Jane for a while, then get bored and dump her.

Jane would call me, and I’d play the role of the emotional tampon. A month later when Bill got lonely, they’d get back together and I’d hear about that too. For two and a half years it went on that way. Finally, her senior year, Bill breaks up with Jane two days before the spring formal. Jane calls me in tears and begs me to take her. Fine, I’m a friend, I’ll take her. So I spent two days and all my savings to get myself together for the formal. Because of the late notice, everything in the city had already been rented. So my tux was out of date and a size too small (I’m 6’6″). The shoes look terrible.

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

So two weeks later Jane calls me up. She and Bill are back together. Oh no, **** no. Nope. Not this time.

Nope times infinity. So that night I went to a grocery store and bought all the frozen squid I could find. About 11 lbs. I blew a week’s pay on it. Then I drove to her house at two in the morning and spent 15 minutes in a shadow behind her fence hucking them into the backyard pool. The ground was coated with them and the pool was unusable. I rained my calamari of vengeance all over her space.
The next day, I get a call from Jane. At first, I was afraid someone had seen me. But no, much like I had hoped, she was calling to complain about how Bill had thrown squid into her backyard. Oh sure, when she confronted him about it he had denied it.

But she assured me she could always tell when he was lying. Just like she could with me (I had to put my hand over the receiver I was laughing so hard). But that time it stuck. I never had to deal with a Bill story again. Jane and I are both 43 now, and she still doesn’t know the truth. It’s not that we couldn’t have a laugh about it or anything, it’s just that I don’t want her reconciling with him again.” Spodson
3. I Got His Mom To Kick Him Out Over Cigarettes 

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

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

I blocked him on everything I could, but he didn’t stop there…
He then took to my boyfriend’s Facebook and started messaging him all sorts of nonsense, saying he needed to break up with me, even going as far as lying and saying I cheated on my current boyfriend with him. Fortunately, my bf didn’t believe him but I was still LIVID.
So some additional background info, my ex still lived with his mother at the time. He also smoked, which I didn’t like but tolerated. His mother, on the other hand, despises smokers. Her father died of lung cancer so she always went on about how she refused to have any smokers under her roof, and even said before that if her son started smoking she’d kick him out.

That didn’t stop him though, he just had to hide it. He always smoked at my house or in his car when we were out, but never anywhere he could potentially be caught by his mom or one of her friends. One time he’d left a pack of cigarettes in his room and he lied and told his mom they were mine…. as if she and I already didn’t have enough issues. From then on, he always kept his cigarettes with me – stashed in my purse, at my house, in my car, anywhere. Most of the time he’d finish half or most of a pack, hide it with me but forget and go buy another one. So I had looooooads of packs of cigarettes around, which gave me an idea for some revenge – not just for the years of misery he put me through, but also attempting to sabotage my new relationship.

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

Later that week I heard from a mutual friend that his mom has actually kicked him out of the house, which honestly I wasn’t sure if she really would – she’s notorious for not following through on threats.

But turns out she was serious, so then ex had to crash on a co-worker’s couch (no one else wanted to let him stay with them) and was frantically trying to find an apartment.
I feel like it was kind of an ****** move to get someone kicked out of their own home, but **** if he didn’t deserve it ****.” AllyMarie93

2. He Came Back To 3 Inches Of Ice On His Car 

“I went to a boarding school in Pennsylvania for sophomore through senior year of high school.

One of the dorm monitor guys was a ROYAL *******. Any day he was on duty was ****. He would stick you with ‘on campus only’ (a.k.a. grounded) for the littlest thing, and complaining about it got you ‘in sight’ (have to be visible, can’t hide in your room even to do homework, etc) until bedtime.

Typical ‘I’m in charge’ bullying BS.
One year he got bad news right after we got back from Thanksgiving: A family member on the other side of the country was in bad shape, so he had to go take care of them (we never got the exact details). He lived in a crappy neighborhood and didn’t trust his car to be in one piece when he got back, so he asked the school administrators if he could leave his car at the school while he was away for ix weeks. They let him, the only stipulation being that he had to leave the keys with Maintenance so they could move the car if the parking area needed plowing.
He parked his car on the grass around the side of our dorm the second week of December and left.

He didn’t get back until the end of January.

Because the dorm was full of teenagers with bad ideas, the spigots didn’t have regular handles on them. Instead, they used a strange square key that was kept in the ‘office’ and was only used with permission from the dorm monitors. However, a pair of flat-ended pliers worked well to turn the water on.

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

Every day, from the minute we got back from classes to the minute we had to leave the next morning, that car got misted. We even got help from a couple of kids in our classes who lived close enough to bike over during Christmas vacation. One even showed up with a lawn chair and a book so he could just stay there and mist it again as soon as the last layer had frozen over (no staff was in any of the school buildings during vacations, so he didn’t get caught).
In the middle of the night two days after we got back from Christmas vacation, I was one of the 2 people ‘on duty’ with the hose when the monitor for that night comes outside for a cigarette (we didn’t know he smoked, so we thought he was in the office, which was on the other end of the building).

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

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

When he went to try to get his car out of the ice, he couldn’t just attack it with a hammer; doing so would break every window and destroy the paint job.

The only way to get rid of the ice was the same way it went on: slowly. He tried using a small blowtorch, but that didn’t work because he got too impatient and tried to put the torch right against the ice, which kept putting it out. He got the smart idea of hooking a hose to the dorm’s hot water heater. It was stalled at first because all the hoses on campus ‘miraculously’ disappeared (who needs a hose in Pennsylvania in the middle of January?). Then he was told he could only do it while we were in class because we needed the hot water for showers in the morning and evening, plus the dishwasher. That didn’t work too well because he had a regular job he had to be at Monday through Friday, 9-5.

Weekends were out because we had to do our laundry. The line, ‘The tank can barely keep up!’ was our favorite.
He ended up running back and forth with a couple of teakettles, melting channels so he could chisel out the ice between them. We kept turning the burner off when he left the kitchen. He stopped working for the school at the end of June.
Answering some questions  –

Why was this so easy for us to do and hard for him to undo? He put the car on the north side of the building. Almost zero sun compounded by bitter cold. We couldn’t have asked for a better setup.

How long did it take him to release his car? He would pour warm water so that it would melt a channel, pour some more to melt another, then chisel out the stuff in between with a screwdriver (maintenance wouldn’t lend him a chisel and he was too cheap to buy one just for this).

Depending on where he was working, it would come off in big flakes – about the size of a playing card but no more than 1/3 the thickness of a deck. He could only work on it when he wasn’t on shift, which was 10-15 minutes in the morning (after we went to class, but before he went to his other job) and another half hour or so at night (after we were supposed to be in bed but before he had to go home to get some sleep) so around Valentine’s day he finally got it to the point that he could get it towed to a local car wash that could keep it indoors long enough for all the ice to melt (we had made **** sure to freeze it to the ground).

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

Why no salt, heaters, etc? Cheap *******. ‘Nuff said. Did we get in any trouble? Pfft. NOPE. All, and I mean all the staff vouched for us (one gave is the spigot key!)!” Arokthis
1. He Was In Bed With My Girlfriend, So I Hit Him With A Wooden Paddle On His Behind

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

I think to myself, ‘Awesome! I’ll go home and maybe get a little bow chicka bow owwww…” I mean, I’ve been dating her for the past 6 years, and I always get a little birthday lovin’. But there’s always the chance I won’t. No big deal.
I walk in the door, all is quiet, which instantly strikes me as kind of strange.  She usually watches TV at this time of night. Maybe she just passed out? I think nothing of it.
So I am walking back to our bedroom when I hear it. The unmistakable headboard against the wall with slight, barely audible womanly moans coming from the bedroom. I promptly freeze. After a few seconds, I quietly sit down on the cold linoleum floor and think to myself, ‘she’s cheating on me, on my birthday, in OUR bed, in the house that I pay rent! ****?!’

But, there’s one thing that everyone who knows me, knows about me.

I don’t act rashly. Ever. I think things through, and you REALLY don’t want to get on my revenge side. It’s cold, and it’s calculating. I have been referred to as Spock on a number of occasions.
So the plan is hatched for instant revenge. She only likes to make love in the dark. I have really good dark vision. She does not. The house is pitch black. ‘I’ve got this,’ I mutter to myself.

I quietly enter the bedroom, and proceed to head to the always open closet across from the bed, and proceed to grab our wooden studded paddle from. It is everything in my power to hold back my infuriation with the situation. I grab the paddle, and a box that was on top of it falls, making a very loud noise.

I crouch down to stay hidden and think to myself, ‘Crap, here I am catching her cheating on me and I’m about to be the one that gets caught…’
But…

They don’t stop. He’s a madman on a mission to finish which he’s obviously very close to doing. I get to the end of the bed, and stand there in full batter’s swing, ready, waiting for the right moment. It was quite an ETERNITY waiting for a man that is with my girlfriend of six years, in my bed, in my house, on my birthday, to finish up.

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

That blood-curdling wince and then the eventual cry was absolute MUSIC to my ears. It was a direct hit to the backside.
She asks, ‘What in the **** just happened??!?’  His reply is, ‘Something just smacked my bottom so hard I think I’m bleeding….’

This is when I personally think it hit her. She frantically rushes to the side of the bed to flick on the bedside lamp.

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

Calm as a statue, and officially shut down all emotions at this point. It is now that I realize that he was a man that I’ve known for years. Not necessarily a friend, but someone who I trusted, and knew I trusted.
I have never seen a man get his clothes together and get out the door so fast in my life. Ever. He was gone in an instant.

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

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

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

While standing there, staring at her the whole time, she gets up, head hanging in shame.

Gathers clothes. Gets in her car, and leaves. That’s when everything in me just collapses. My heart, my soul, my emotions, my ego, and pride… everything. I proceed to go to the living room, crack a beer, and cry for 8 hours. I’m a man, but I’m only human.
The next day her mom calls me up and asks, ‘What in the **** happened last night?’ So I tell her. She bursts out laughing at her daughter’s stupidity, and my retaliation, and heads on over for a little bit more of a talk instead of on the phone.” The_Infamous

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