People Share Their Most Inspiring Acts Of Trivial Revenge

They say less is more, and in many cases, that’s definitely true. I’m the type of girl who prefers a small group of close friends over a large posse, fewer shopping sprees if it means I can save money, and less time scrolling on social media to help preserve my precious time. And “less is more” continues to be true in even more ways. Surprisingly, I’ve also found that sometimes it’s the smaller acts of revenge that tend to have the most enjoyable outcome.

Some of the Internet’s favorite small revenge stories are listed below, and you’re sure to love them too. There’s a story of someone sneezing on an annoying plane passenger, another about someone toying with their jerk landlord’s WiFi, and even one where someone parks behind a car who illegally parked in a handicap spot. Too good!

23. Cheating Boyfriend Loses His Precious Hair

No, not the hair!

“Alrighty, so this is a story from a few years ago during my time at university while I lived with two other lassies.

So, my flatmate Gail met this guy through her bandmates, and they ended up dating. Let’s call him Shane.

He was relatively attractive and charming, but his nicest feature was his long, glossy, black hair, which he meticulously styled every day and was extremely proud of. He came off as a little d*uchey, was too cool for social media, but never did anything outright awful as far as we could tell.

We didn’t like most of her band, but we tried not to let that affect our opinion of him. We tried to be inclusive and friendly to Shane and even allowed him a house key while we all went home or abroad for the summer as his place of work was very close to our flat and his home was two train rides away.

However, nine months into the relationship, my flatmate got a message from another girl, let’s call her Carly. Carly claimed to know that Gail was “sleeping with her boyfriend,” but after being assured by Gail that she had no idea who Carly was, they decided to get together to discuss it.

They both got more than they bargained for. Carly thought that it was a short fling, not a nine-month relationship, and Gail found out this had been Shane’s girlfriend of four years! They exchanged phones and looked at their messages and exposed all of the cover-ups and lies about his whereabouts and the like.

A lot of stuff came out, including how he had financially leeched of Carly for years, which paid for his obsessive gambling problem, how he was manipulative and mean spirited, and one of the most infuriating facts:

While we were away for the summer, HE HAD BROUGHT HER OVER, AND THEY HAD S*X IN GAIL’S BED. Carly was just under the impression that a friend of Shane’s had asked him to housesit and didn’t suspect anything. Because who in their right mind would do such a morally bankrupt thing?

They both broke up with him, but whenever we saw him in public, he would smile and wave like nothing was wrong.

It took everything in our power not to knock him flat on the ground. He was absolutely remorseless, and the mock innocence in his expression stoked a fire in our hearts.

One evening a few months later, a large group of our friends was at a club, and we ran into the rest of Gail’s band on their own night out. Shane was there. Self-satisfied as ever. He was on ***** and had a big, stupid grin on his face as he waved at us.

A friend of ours, who was always chewing gum, gave us a quick mischievous look and bounced over to see him. We saw them exchange greetings and a hug, and we see her run her hands through his thick mane.

This is a small side note, but folks on this type of drug are usually very touchy-feely and lose all sense of boundaries, so he actually preened at her touching his hair.

She came back over to us and gave everyone some gum.

“Right, that’s one piece in his hair. Let’s set a record.”

With the exception of Gail, every one of us smiled and hugged him, every time getting another glob of sticky residue into his hair, some of us several times over.

Her band-mates that noticed didn’t say a thing; they were also annoyed about how he’d treated Gail. As problematic as they were, they had thought that Gail had known about Carly and had just been silently judging her promiscuity.

For whatever reason, they still hung out with him, but they didn’t stand in the way of our petty revenge.

Shane still hadn’t noticed by the time we left and seemed confused as to why we all suddenly gave him the cold shoulder after he’d had so much positive attention all evening.

We heard the rest from one of her band-mates. The best of the bunch, Andrew, told us how Shane had woken up with an already earth-shattering come-down, only to discover that his beautiful hair had been peppered with so much rock hard gum that they’d barely even tried to get it out before just giving up and turning on the clippers.

(Although, I’m sure their come-down bleakness had a hand in that lack of motivation.)

While having a meltdown and asking, “How did this even ******* happen??” Andrew had turned to him and said, “Why the **** did you think all of Gail’s friends wanted to hug you?”

He never said a word about it to us, but the next time we saw him on the street with his hair buzz cut to the scalp, his smug smile was gone, and he was shooting us a glare that could have frozen **** over.

We smiled and waved. **** you, Shane.” Biriniri

22. Refuse To Give Me My Deposit Back? I Hope You Enjoy Lost WiFi Connections

WiFi problems are the worst.

“This happened a few years ago when I was still a freshman in college.

My friends and I planned to live in a new place, so I have to leave my current flat. It was a shared flat with a family of 3 (my landlady, my landlord, and their kid) and two students.

The flat has two floors each with an entry on each floor, so we had privacy for each floor.

Upon living there, the landlady said that if I need access to the WiFi, I need to pay extra for it, but since the router is on the second floor, the WiFi signal is barely going in my room. Since the WiFi can’t reach my room, I decided to use my carrier data and told my landlady I disconnected from the WiFi because I can’t use it anyway.

The thing is, I know the password of the WiFi because it’s the default password, and they never changed it. I didn’t really care since the signal is not strong enough to reach my room, and it will only connect if I pass by the common areas.

When I told my landlady that I was leaving because I’ll be moving with a few friends, she didn’t take it well and said I shouldn’t get my deposit for leaving early.

Renting here is quite informal, and we don’t have a contract, but we only agreed that I should pay 2 months in advance plus a deposit.

I was livid. I’m a broke student, and my landlady is taking advantage of me for keeping my deposit. She said I should have told her earlier, and I should spend my deposit by paying it on my last month. I tried to argue, but I’m a freshman, 15-year-old kid at that time, and if I tried to argue, I might end up just crying and losing it.

After that, I began packing my things weeks before leaving (I have a lot) while still mad about my deposit when I remember the WiFi. It was on default, and I assumed that the router login on the WiFi is still on default. I tried logging it in and viola! I had access to the WiFi router.

Cue the petty revenge.

My landlady loves to stay up the night gambling online, I don’t know, spending so much on the internet for hours in the living area.

I don’t know how it works, but obviously, you need the internet for it. The thing is, my room’s entry is directly next to the living area. I can hear her gambling and saying words just outside my room’s door. I don’t really know what she’s doing, but I heard her tell her son to ‘not play again because she’s losing money,’ so I assumed she was gambling.

I am still mad for what happened, so I began changing the password of the WiFi every time and then changing it back to its original password again, so she’d lose connection and get p*ssed because the WiFi signal ‘was not working properly.’ She’s losing because of the interrupted connection.

I tried to keep quiet, and I really tried not to laugh, but those were the times I was enjoying staying there.

For the last 2 weeks before leaving, I did the same thing over and over, and I even heard her talk to her husband to call the WiFi company to “fix the signal,” because apparently, she’s losing money because of it. Then three days before I left, I changed the password completely and never changed it back.

I thought it would be sketchy if I changed it the day before I left.” posiepockets

21. Be A Narcissist Aunt? Get Pee In Your Hairspray

“This happened when I (23F) was 17.

At the time, my family and I were p*ss poor. Both my parents were unemployed and had to stay with family members on a farm far away, while I had to stay by my aunt in the city (late 40 something) so that I could still attend school.

We couldn’t afford boarding school or anything, so that was my only option.

Things were great until my parents couldn’t pay what little tiny a** rent they paid her usually. My aunt said that it WASN’T A PROBLEM and that I could stay there as long as I needed to, as I am family, after all. All nice and generous and everything. I had actually gotten along with her very well.

Aaaand that’s where things went downhill. I started getting picked on and called out for the stupidest things in the world.

I make myself coffee in the mornings before school? I got shouted at because I didn’t ask her if she wanted any. I do my homework on my computer in my room? She has a problem with me because I don’t “socialize enough” and sends me messages while I’m in my room, doing my homework, telling me how much of a crappy person I am for not spending time with the rest of the people in the house.

Meanwhile, my task was due in 2 days.

One time, there wasn’t even food in the house, and Aunt Dearest didn’t care, of course, because she slept at her boyfriend’s house every night. My cousin, who is two years older than I am, also stayed over with other people in the evenings. But I wasn’t even allowed to close my door when I had a boy over. (I semi got along with her as well, but that story requires a whole post on its own.)

There was literally just a packet of frozen mince in the freezer.

NOTHING else. The fridge was EMPTY. I bring this up? She gets mad at me because “Don’t you know how to make mince?” Well, ****. If you can teach my body to defy the laws of physics and magically burn fewer calories than I need, then I’ll gladly take your measly 200g mince. My best friend started packing lunches for me for school. God bless her.

The fridge wasn’t empty all the time, just most of the time.

A few slices of bread and jam here, some tomatoes there. I had a stash of some non-perishable food I’d hide away in my room, but those ran out, you know.. Oh, and popcorn. I practically lived off that stuff because Aunt bought a box of microwavable popcorn in bulk once.

One day, I needed to see my psychologist. And she just flat out refused to take me because I “didn’t ask her soon enough.” *****, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO ASK YOU ANYTHING WHEN YOU JUST WANNA **** YOUR PANTS THE WHOLE TIME? We got into a fight, she threw the car keys across the room, and told me to ask my cousin to take me.

I felt so helpless and alone. A 17-year-old girl suffering from depression, away from her parents, can’t afford jack ****, in a manipulative and toxic relationship as well (**** you, Jason) shouldn’t have to deal with things like no food, a childish narcissistic aunt, and restricted access to therapy for abuse I had endured as a child.

She also started wearing my clothes. When I took my one shirt back from out her room, she started accusing me of stealing other things, like money and whatnot, which I never did.

And tried to convince me the size small shirt was hers. ***** had to squeeze and worm herself in that shirt so hard, she practically ruined it. Thanks, now I have to buy a new one. Oh wait, I can’t because I can’t afford it.

Same goes for a pair of jeans. Or was it two pairs?

So? Petty revenge time.

Here where I am, you can get hairspray which isn’t in aerosol form. You can unscrew the cap and open the bottle, in other words.

It’s just like a regular spray bottle. It’s the cheaper kind of hairspray, and most people where I live are familiar with it.

And I took a nice p*ss in hers before I moved out. Luckily, the hairspray itself was a fluorescent orange color as well, so the change was barely noticeable. And it was perhaps only a tablespoon of urine. But still. It felt good knowing she was unknowingly wearing microscopic particles of my p*ss around on her head for the next few weeks.

Or months.

**** you, narcissist aunt!

I moved into boarding school shortly after. My father’s friend paid for it for the rest of my high school career. God bless him too.

Things are 100% better now. My father has a fantastic job, and I finished university not long ago. Waiting on graduation!

And I still don’t regret it. I’d do it again. I regret not having p*ssed in her shampoo and conditioner as well.” DeviouslyAnnoying

20. Jealous That Your Girl Is Friends With A Guy Like Me? I’ll Expose You

“This happened a couple of years ago at university.

A friend had been talking about her boyfriend who would be visiting soon and one day, he came with her, so we could meet him. At first, he seemed like a nice and funny guy, but some of us realized that every time some man made her laugh or had any interaction with her, he would get in the way with an annoyed face.

A week later, he was waiting outside of a classroom. Meanwhile, we were looking at the results of a particularly difficult test.

We pass, so we hugged each other to celebrate outside of the classroom. When I hugged my friend, the idiot separated us and insulted me with some homophobic slurs (I’m not gay, just have long hair, but that doesn’t mean I tolerate this kind of behavior), then he threatened to “break my face.” I believe in “an eye for an eye,” so I responded in the same way.

My friend was enraged by her boyfriend’s actions, so she dragged him and yelled at him.

A couple of days later, she forgave him after he apologized to me.

Apparently, this p*ssed him of a lot because the next day, he stopped me in a hallway to threaten me again, to which I replied, “Do you really want me to explain to your girlfriend that I beat you because you did exactly what she told you not to do?”

He was furious, but he wasn’t stupid enough to start a fight in the middle of the hallways of the university.

His answer was, “Who do you think she will believe?”

That same night, my friend along with me and other colleagues went to see movies and eat junk food since we had finished a difficult project, and she uploaded photos having fun with us.

The next day, I received a lot of threatening messages and insults. Basically, his message was, “She is my property. She is an object that belongs to me, and I will do whatever I want with her.

Get in my way, and I will destroy you.”

Now the revenge… I took screenshots of the conversation and went to send it to my friend on Facebook, but silly me, I “accidentally” did it as a public post instead of through a message, so everyone saw it. A couple of hours later, the idiot called to insult me ​​and threaten me again, demanding me to erase the post,* or h*e wi*ll sue* me. *I jus*t to*ld *him t*o *** off, then my friend called me to tell me that she had kicked the idiot out of her life and that his acquaintances, friends, and family were gossiping like crazy, so he would have his public image dragged through the mud and beyond.

Epilogue:

The above happened on a Friday during the day. On Monday, he was waiting for me outside the university like a typical school bully. The guy must have thought that he could intimidate me since I am a nerd who likes to talk about games and anime while he was the Instagram party guy who always takes pictures of his abs. One thing you should know about me is that I’m a pretty tall, the type of tall guy with long limbs and fingers, so when the idiot approached me in an intimidating way and pushed me, instead of responding in the same way, I just grabbed his throat with my hand and kept him away from me.

He tried to punch me, but his arms couldn’t reach my face, then he stumbled and fell into the wet grass and mud. He wanted to keep fighting, but the security guard heard us, his friends grabbed him and took him away, and I filed a complaint, and if he even talked to me again, he would get expelled because this wasn’t the first time he did such a thing.” franska5

19. Scare Me While I’m Sleeping? I’ll Ruin Your Sleep The Entire Night

“I was 7 when this happened, and my brother was 10 (in 1997).

My mom and dad had been separated since before my younger sister was born, so weekends and holidays were, well, interesting. My siblings and I were primarily living with our mother in a very small town with a population of less than 500 people. Our dad would come around to the house every now and then, or he’d take us to his place (he owned a house on a large property in the mountains just outside of the town we were living in).

Dad’s house was what off the grid and (what we Australians call) in the middle of woop woop with Drop Bears in every tree and the closest neighbor a two-hour walk away. (My sister was very young and didn’t have as many stays there as me and my brother did.) But as desolate and isolated as it sounds, some of my fondest memories are from that place.

My brother and his tormenting being one of those fond memories.

I remember having afternoon naps in my dad’s room and my brother walking in with a sheet over his head and pretending to be a ghost. He’d throw a stick on me and make me think it was a snake (plus the times he’d throw a real snake or a spider on me). He slept in the top bunk, and I’d be in the bottom bunk, and he’d throw things on me in the middle of the night.

Looking back on it now, it was hilarious. Kids doing what kids do best – annoying the poop out of each other. But at the time, I wanted revenge.

So, on one of the trips to Dad’s place, I made a plan, a plan that my 7-year-old brain thought was genius. I made it impossible for him to sleep at night. He never took afternoon naps, but I did, so I decided to have more daily naps than usual so that I could stay up all night and annoy the heck out of him.

My plan was in motion when bedtime came. I pretended to be really tired and went to bed around the same time as my brother. When he thought I was asleep, he began throwing things down on me and using a stick to poke my legs. But I didn’t budge, and not long after that, he got tired and went to sleep. My turn now!

I quietly crept out of bed and walked the ladder to his bunk and confiscated everything he had with him.

The stick, mine. The toy soldiers, mine. The rock, mine. There was a surprising amount of stuff up there with him, but I made sure to take everything.

I hid everything under my bed (except the stick, which was now mine) and proceeded to kick the top bunk continuously until he woke up. If he fell asleep again, I’d use the stick to tickle his foot if it came out of the side of his bed. If he stirred, I’d wait a few minutes for him to fall back asleep and continue to kick the top bunk.

This went on ALL NIGHT. I only allowed him to sleep for a few minutes before I woke him up again.

He was not happy the next day, but I pretended to not know why he was annoyed at me, saying, “You must have had a bad dream. I was asleep all night.”

His tormenting continued throughout childhood, but I relished in that small victory.” fredzred

18. Try To Put Me In My Place? Cool, Then Let’s Watch You Fail Miserably

“This happened when I was 19.

My sister is 10 years older than me, and I moved in with her for a few months before getting my life together, moving out, and getting married.

I had a pretty laid back job. I worked at a furniture factory and worked in inventory management. My biggest job was to track loss. We had a series of computers throughout the factory that would track each pallet. Every time it hit a different machine in the sawmill, it would get counted and scanned into the computer system with said count.

Once it hit production, it was scanned again, and from then on, I was responsible for counting all the pallets every morning. When production used a pallet, I had to count the pallet they were using, but they would count the finished pieces as well as any wood they COULDN’T USE. They were supposed to keep track of this throughout the day, then give me the numbers, of which I would then input into a special spreadsheet my boss and I had designed to keep count.

This, however, caused a problem.

The production manager would give me the numbers 30-60 minutes before the end of the day but then keep his people working. That meant I had to input the numbers at the end of the day, come back in the morning, and re-do the numbers as they counted what they had used that last hour. It wasn’t that big of a deal, just entering and re-entering numbers on a spreadsheet, but I HATE re-doing work when it could be easily done correctly the first time.

I asked the supervisor to do the count at the end of the day, but they kept just doing it 30-60 minutes (usually 60) beforehand.

One day, I was talking with the production manager and politely asked him to have his guys do the count at the end of the day. For some reason, he got SUPER heated about my request and told me to stick to my job and let him manage his people. He then went to my manager AND my brother-in-law.

That is where he messed up.

My brother-in-law was EVERYONE’s boss. The only people higher at the company were the owners, and they deferred to him on a lot of matters because he had done a lot of good for them. So, this department manager talked to my brother-in-law about me because he wanted me “put in my place.” I only worked there because of BIL and because I also lived with him and my sister at the time; we commuted to work together every day.

The blow-up happened about an hour before the end of shift, and the manager must have talked to BIL after that because on the way home, my BIL asked me why I was being rude to the production manager. I was flabbergasted at that comment, but apparently the PM said I had an “attitude issue” that needed to be addressed. I spent an hour talking with my brother-in-law about my “attitude issue.” It started out as a reprimand and coaching/teaching session (I used to think he was a good man and mentor, not so much anymore, but that’s another story.

At this time, he was teaching me how to be a man and do good at work, lessons I still use. Even if he is not the kind man, we all thought he was; he is still a fantastic boss and businessman.) But that turned into an impromptu efficiency meeting.

I asked how come it was that I had an attitude simply for asking them to do their job correctly. He asked me what I meant by that.

I explained the situation, and we spent the next hour going over things the production managers did, or let their people do, that made more work for me, could be easily fixed, but wasn’t, and for seemingly no reason.

By the end of the hour-long car ride home, he had given me only one reprimand (if I have an issue, take it up my chain of command, and don’t get into fights with managers in other departments.

Let my manager or him do that.), and he told me he’d take care of it. I didn’t know what he meant by that.

The next day I get to work and am brought into a meeting with BIL, my manager, and the production manager. I am asked to apologize for my “attitude,” which I did because my BIL asked me to do so. The production manager was then given an option. His people could either re-do the inputs in the morning or wait to give me the count at the end of the day.

Completely their choice.

After some back and forth and a bit of stink about having stuff to do at the end of the day, he landed on “input is his (me) job, not ours” and got shut down by my BIL. We left the meeting with the manager saying he’d let us know what he wanted to do. (Another of his complaints was that if they gave me the numbers at the end of the day, I’d have to stay later to input said numbers.

Jokes on him; I usually stayed late anyway seeing as how my BIL was my ride, and he didn’t leave until almost everyone else did.)

Later that day, I found out what he wanted to do. He had his people give me the counts early. I thought “sweet” and did my inputs and went about my business…sneaky business. The next morning, I came in and got straight to my tasks but instead of re-doing my count because he was doing it.

Something must have been difficult for him because he asked me for help with the recount as he couldn’t figure out why Excel wasn’t working the way he thought it should. Columns and rows weren’t adding correctly, his numbers were getting deleted, etc. I “helped” and input a couple of numbers correctly after “fixing” it, but every time he did the next line of input, it would mess up. That’s when I casually and jokingly dropped the line from the day before, “Wow, this thing doesn’t like you.

I guess input is my job and not yours. *slight chuckle*”

That afternoon, they waited until the end of the day to give me the total count.” dnjprod

17. Eat My Cheese? Prepare For Internet Troubles

Never mess with a person’s cheese, man.

“The story starts with my housemate, we can call him Tommy. Tommy is a funny young man, he loves his gaming, he loves staying up late and he certainly loves his food.

Ever since I moved in I started to notice my sliced cheese, that I use for making my daily sandwiches, dwindling faster than it should.

I always use 2 slices per bread and I have two pieces of bread a day, so 4 slices of cheese in total. A pack has 16 slices meaning I go through a pack every 4 days except Sunday where I don’t eat dairy or gluten.

Anyways, I started to notice my cheese ending 1 or often 2 slices short, something that in years of buying the same cheese the manufacturers has never messed up. I investigated when I heard Tommy creep into the kitchen late at night looking for a gaming snack.

I would slowly creep out my door and suddenly enter the kitchen. BAM. I had caught him red-handed with a slice of cheese in hand, chewing the other. Tommy was startled, he panicked. ‘***, you scared me, man, haha, creeping around like that…’ I didn’t mention the cheese, my past affirmations were correct.

Not even 10 minutes later Tommy went back into his gaming cave. I checked discord to see him playing his favorite game, League of Legends.

I log into an account I know just to see him logged in and ‘In a ranked game.’
Tommy, Tommy, Tommy…had you not betrayed my trust and allowed my cheese to be safe inside the communal fridge I wouldn’t have to do this.

I loosen his ethernet cable ever so slightly. I hear a slam. He’s p*ssed. I reconnect the cable as he frantically loads back into the game.

I look back 15 minutes later and see ‘Defeat’. Hah…

For the next 2 months of our remaining tenancy, I disconnected his games about 3 or 4 times a night.

In the mornings he would complain about this ‘****** internet’. I also noticed his rank had changed from gold 1 to gold 2. Oops.” Reddit user

16. Walk Up On My Lawn? Prepared To Get Drenched

“My husband and I live in a fairly quiet neighborhood in the suburbs. This works great because my husband is a paramedic and works the night shift. He comes home to sleep during the day. I am currently pregnant, and I work from home because of the pandemic.

We have never had trouble with any of our neighbors until just recently. Our neighbor a few houses down got a new dog. She takes the dog outside all hours of the day to “train” it. This would not be a problem at all except she screams on the top of her lungs at the dog constantly. That alone is annoying, but my husband has just taken to wearing earplugs to help him sleep through it.

About two weeks ago, she has started a new training technique where she will take her dog and stand on my lawn in front of my house. She will yell or throw pebbles at my front window to get the attention of my dogs inside. This will make my dogs bark like maniacs. She then rewards her dog with treats when he behaves and stays quiet as my dogs bark at them.

My husband is obviously not able to sleep through the noise, and the lack of sleep has been getting to him.

He is very tired all the time and is afraid his performance at work will suffer. My neighbor has done this about 3-4 times a day.

I went outside yesterday and politely asked her to please stop doing this. My dogs are not a tool to help her train her own animal. I explained that my husband is a paramedic and needs to sleep during the day. She just rolled her eyes at me and smugly told me there are no laws against her making noise during daylight hours.

She said I should learn to train my dogs properly like her dog, and maybe they would not act up. This is insane because my dogs are very well trained, but of course, they will bark when someone is actively throwing stones and yelling on our front lawn.

Today, she did her little routine again. This time I was prepared. As she walked up through the middle of my lawn, I turned my sprinklers on full blast.

Her dog went wild at the unexpected shower and started to freak out. She lost hold of the leash, and the dog began to run away. In her attempt to catch her dog, she ended up getting completely soaked.

About 20 minutes later, she came up and was banging on my door. When I answered, she began to scream and threaten me. She claimed I almost made her dog run into the street and that she had fallen on my property because of the water.

I told her that she was lying and did not fall. I said I would be happy to show her the security camera footage. I then told her exactly what she said to me. I calmly told her that she was trespassing on my property and that that there was no law against me turning my sprinklers on and that, perhaps, she should learn to control her dog and then it won’t act up.

My husband is always a peacemaker and thinks I took it to far, that is, had she actually gotten hurt on our property, we could have had a bigger problem on our hands.” Quinn568

Another User Comments:

“The other option, of course, is to record yourself telling her not to be on your property, get security footage of her trespassing on and vandalizing your property, call the police and either press charges, or at least get the cops the scare the heck out of her, so she doesn’t come back.” nehal4

15. Be A Terrible Boss? Lose Your Best Employee

“This happened about 18 months ago.

I needed to return to work due to my partner needing surgery on his wrist, so he couldn’t work to support us. So, I look for a job in an office. I have pretty decent admin/office skills. I love spreadsheets (I’m that kind of geek), but I had never actually worked in an accounts team… And was therefore quite surprised to be offered the position of Accounts Supervisor. But whatever. I can figure most stuff out.

I had a 2-week handover, no PC of my own to work on as I had to wait for my predecessor to leave, but as I say, I can figure stuff out and am happy to ask questions if I don’t know a procedure/where something is.

My boss is next to useless, doesn’t know any of the systems, but hey, me and the girl I supervise figure it out. And it turns out that the boss is a colossal pr*ck.

He struts about, tries to flirt with the girls, always a lairy story to tell where he tries to come across as such an awesome dude… Though, when he was in a bad mood, he took it out on anyone who got in his way… Literally reducing the girl under me to tears.

The icing on the cake was when he encouraged one of the senior managers to Google the worst in rancid p*rn you could think of… Now, I am not a prude, no way – I am foul-mouthed and dirty-minded (F36, if that matters), but we were in a crowded office, several people from other offices were there, and the manager in question is trying to get everyone to watch the videos on his phone.

Big boss man (M29, youngest site manager in the national company, if that matters) was literally on the floor p*ssing himself laughing – and I wish that was an exaggeration – and egging him on to search for more and more depraved videos. It was the most unprofessional thing I have witnessed in my whole life…

Obviously, there was a complaint from one of the people from another site as the next week, we were asked to fill out “confidential” questionnaires about the working environment, and I mentioned the incident (though not in detail) in my answers… Big mistake as this was then used against me and any small slip up, and I would get *********.

Bear in mind, I was about 2 months into my employment at this time.

So, I like the actual work, if not the job – it’s actually a piece of p*ss. I have streamlined a lot of the work, and it has been noticed. Reports usually submitted on Wednesdays afternoons were now done by Tuesday lunchtimes, data easily compiled and accessible, all invoices paid bang on time… And then after a cyber attack affected all the companies data (Wanacry), I single-handedly rebuilt all our location’s accounts and managed to keep all orders and invoices running without delays.

Go me, right?

But the boss is still a pr*ck, so I call him on it, explain that the way he treats me and other staff makes us uncomfortable, etc. He shuts me down immediately, refuses to let me talk and, of course, twists my words. And by this point, I am beyond p*ssed off. I have made his site shine, and he still wants to treat me like ***.

So, I go home, write a one-line resignation letter, and place it on his desk the next morning.

He is dumbfounded, especially as he had reported me to the regional manager and was going to give me a disciplinary for the way I spoke to him!

Now here is the kicker… And the revenge. I had been placed by an agency, and the recruitment fee for me was pretty steep (about twice my monthly wage, plus a bit). I know this because I paid the invoice. The contract for which was 3 months, after that, no matter what happened there were no refunds.

(He was dumb to sign with the agency because industry standard is 6 months.) I HANDED IN MY NOTICE 3 MONTHS AND 2 DAYS AFTER MY START DATE.

Of course, the agency refused a refund of any kind, and regional management hauled the boss over the coals, AND he had to be civil to me in my notice period.

As an added bonus, in the 4 weeks I had to work my notice, they couldn’t find anyone suitable to replace me, I had no one to hand over to, and the boss had never bothered to learn what the job entailed… So, the “most efficient accounts team” literally turned to *** the moment I left.

Happy days.” Mediocre_Activity497

14. Teacher Stink Bombs Disruptive Class

Clever woman!

“This is not my petty revenge story, but I was apart of the class, and it’s a story that makes me chuckle.

Background: I had this really awful class in grade 9 that all the teachers hated. They disrupted so many classes that we had a history teacher read the Constitution to us because some of us were “violating our constitutional rights to have an equal education for the rest of us.”

It wasn’t the whole class that was bad, but just a couple of us, including me, kept to ourselves and worked hard in our classes.

Although, the majority were rambunctious, but two of them were downright awful. One of them answered a phone call in the middle of class (very loudly), and the other while we were working with microscopes, popped a pimple and put the pus under the microscope and sent a picture to it on a class group chat. That class was awful, but it was far worse for my science teacher.

My science teacher (henceforth ST), was a far more reserved and relatively new teacher and had gotten the brunt of the shenanigans from my class, the rambunctious kids were louder, and the two awful kids were a lot worse in her class.

It was so frustrating for those who were trying to focus, and you could see this kind, meek, and mild teacher getting more and more frustrated every day. It was unbearable.

Now time for the revenge. We had been doing a few experiments that week to demonstrate some of the concepts in our book. We had to be taught about diffusion next, and this is where ST realizes where she can take her revenge on the class.

To get the classes to remember the lesson, they used sulfur dioxide. If you don’t know anything about sulfur dioxide, it stinks. It smells like rotten eggs on its own, and it’s what makes your farts stink. ST saw the opportunity and took it.

ST started by putting us in specific seats so that certain people got a certain impact. Those two guys were put in the back, closest to the experiment, and everyone was spread out according to her chart.

I was in the front. It pays to be the teacher’s pet some times. The other classes had been told about the stink, and the class had been sprayed with air fresheners between each class.

Not our class.

ST had told us to continue with our work from yesterday, and none of us suspected anything. Our class started to stink real bad pretty soon, and we all wondered “what the heck is going on,” and she started giggling and said, “and that’s how diffusion works!”

A couple of years later, I’m still in her class, and ST, another one of the quieter girls in that class, and I were reminiscing about how awful that class was and started talking about when ST had stunk u the classroom.

Friend: “It really stank, but I guess that was your mini revenge on us.”

ST (smiling): Yeah, it was.

She gained a lot more confidence and a lot more assertive in class. She’s such a cool teacher. :)” Meant_to_be_a_gamer

13. Refuse To Give Me The Rate You Promised? Guess I’ll Have To Call OSHA

“So, I was hired at a small business that I really liked working at. They caught me in a bad position where I really needed a job, so I seriously considered and ended up accepting the position with the understanding (not in writing, my fault), that within a year, we would re-evaluate my contribution and discuss getting a raise to my desired level.

The whole year, I busted a**, and I glossed over the really poor treatment of the workers on the floor who made our product. I made friends with them and heard their stories about how hard life was. I observed quite a few issues in the workplace that were genuinely concerning and didn’t seem to be safe, and I worked to fix them.

My supervisor, who was really a scumbag, scolded me for wasting time on these little pet projects.

At a certain point, I stumbled upon a list of the hourly worker’s pay and discovered that critical people in our workforce were making less than 11 dollars an hour with no benefits. That really rubbed me the wrong way as well as is really poor business practice. I learned how to do our quality inspections and learned how to get the paperwork together to be a quality engineer, which vastly improved my helpfulness to the company.

They were excited about my prospects, and I attended all the quality meetings and rewrote most of the quality processes to put us in the next level of quality engineering. They were already trying to fill a QC engineer spot anyway, so I naturally leaned into that role and spent extra time and effort doing both roles.

Then comes my year anniversary, no mention of any meeting or anything to discuss my steps forward or growth in the company.

Now my boss had been hard on for my thirty-day, sixty-day, ninety-day, and half-year evaluations, but suddenly, the year eval is forgotten? Two weeks past my year date, I mention it offhandedly, and my supervisor explodes, saying, “It’s a little like the tail wagging the dog, you know?”

Thankfully, one of the other workers had told me about a new job prospect he was looking into up the street, which was a new large company that has good benefits and competitive pay that was hiring like crazy.

Let’s just say things went extra smooth, and a lot of us work there now. I interview, and I get my pay requirements and allll the benefits. The old company would need to add thirty grand to what I was making currently just to be competitive. And it just happened to be a significantly shorter commute for me.

I go into the office of the co-owner, who I had a good relationship with, and I explained what was going on with my supervisor.

She said she’d look into it. She explains to me that she can maybe give me a raise of five grand but no benefits, and she can’t really do anything about my supervisor.

Funny enough, a few days later, I walk in with my two weeks’ notice. I set up a meeting with the owner of the company and tell him everything I learned, about how my supervisor deliberately *** on my ideas that would have saved our company thousands of dollars, that he treated me like a kid, that I was being essentially a QC engineer and they still didn’t want to give me the raise, let alone the meeting to have the raise, etc.

He seemed understanding, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

So, time for my revenge. I was so irritated that my ideas were shot down all the time and that so many extremely important things, like safety, were just not considered. So, I called OSHA and laid out every single thing I had an issue with. Turns out, the things I had problems with weren’t issues with them, but there were a whole slew of other things I was unaware of that was being done behind the scenes that were really big deals.

I got back the paperwork, and they were fined thirty thousand dollars, just about the amount they would have paid me. At least my coworkers were safer.

Also, about eight months later, I got an email from the owner asking me to come back for the amount I had asked. I had already gotten a raise at the new place, and the short commute was extremely well worth it, so I declined.” buttsmcgillicutty

12. Karen Wants Her Cinnamon Sugar Pretzels Redipped

“It’s Christmas time, and the mall is packed full of tired people, the normal grumps, and horrific individuals known as “seasonal shoppers.” These terrifying creatures only emerge once a year during holiday sales, and collectively the whole of the mall employees hated them.

I’m talking expired coupon, screaming, “But this cost $2.75 last year! Why’s it $2.85 this year? I want the old price!!” Lady, I don’t know, inflation? Taxes? Buy something or leave…

Naturally, these creatures had to be fed, and obviously, they needed to choose the longest line (our pretzel stand) and whine about how long things take, “Why does that pretzel not exist anymore,” and “Can’t you just make it for me anyway?” No, I don’t even know what a sun-dried parmesan pretzel stick is…

Usually, they relented and chose cinnamon sugar pretzel bites.

But they wanted them with extra cinnamon sugar and butter.

Let’s pause and explain something real quick. When we make cinnamon sugar pretzels of any kind, we take a plain pretzel, submerge it in our butter vat, then put it in our cinnamon sugar tub, and shake it to cover. There is no going back from there… You literally cannot redip it in butter and add more. The butter washes off the sugar and contaminates the butter vat.

So, up to the counter comes a herd of “seasonal shopping Karens” with ridiculous requests. They all want NEW HOT FRESH PRETZELS. Of course, the first person wants redipped extra cinnamon sugar bites.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. You can either wait for a fresh batch in about 15 minutes, or we have these here. We can’t redip pretzels.”

“But that’s what I want. You have to give me what I want!”

“Ma’am, seriously, I cannot. If I do, first of all, it’s going to wash all the cinnamon off which puts us back to where we started.

And second, I will have to stop making new pretzels and clean and strain the butter bag. I’m sorry, but those are the two options: wait or accept these.”

“THAT’S UNACCEPTABLE. GIVE ME YOUR MANAGER.”

This is followed by an echo from the herd of Karen’s screeching, “You have to give the customer what they want” and other stupid comments.

I look over at my manager who just gives me a knowing nod. This guy gives zero ****, he’s the brother of the owner who owns all the stands in the city.

His wife’s also the district manager. He’s got job security, can easily ban annoying or mean customers (and has), but most of all, he’s got our backs. Plus he’s only like 8 years older than us.

“Sure thing ma’am” She gives me this smug smile like she’s won while getting nods of approval from her posse.

I take the bites (we literally just made this sh*t) and dump them into the basket. In to the vat they go, and all the cinnamon sugar comes off, out of the butter and into the cinnamon sugar tub.

At this point, butter’s clumping the cinnamon sugar. I didn’t bother to shake them or let the butter drip off. The cinnamon sugar is not sticking, and it’s a nasty mess. So, I just scoop the whole thing back in o the cup and dump the remaining cinnamon sugar, clumps, and all into the cup and on top.

“Here you go. Extra cinnamon sugar and butter.”

There’s cinnamon sugar spilling all over the counter and her as I attempt to hand it to her.

She’s dumbfounded, but my manager’s at the register ready for action.

“$4.75, ma’am. Just as you requested.” She can’t argue; she has to pay. And she does.

Now here where we get just enough petty revenge to make this memorable…

The butter’s now contaminated. The next Karen wants a double-dipped salty pretzel.

“And it needs to be FRESH!” She screeches. My manager’s eyes sparkle.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, but we have to clean and strain our butter now that it’s been contaminated.

We don’t have more butter ready because re-dipping cinnamon sugar pretzels isn’t our policy. It’s going to be about 20 minutes. We only have the pretzels in the warmer right now. No extras. No new pretzels or any special orders.”

The Karens are now upset. They encouraged their friend’s ridiculousness but ruined their special requests, and obviously, 20 minutes is an eon to them. The glares begin and warmer stocked. Nonspecial pretzels are purchased. (These pretzels are still BRAND FRICKING NEW.)

The posse leaves, and I turn to my manager concerned about the butter issue and our next, kind customers.

He gives me a wink and points to the back storeroom. There’s a hot, melted, fresh batch of butter in a new vat waiting for me to swap.

This guy KNEW what was coming and planned it just so he could inconvenience the nasty customers and easily take care of the kind ones who followed. The king of petty pretzel revenge.” S3xySouthernB

Another User Comments:

“As someone who used to work at a busy movie theater with plenty of customers who “HAD to have a fresh new batch of popcorn JUST for them” (even if I insist to them the last batch is only from 10 minutes ago), I reallyyyy appreciate this one.” EmzDilemmz

11. Steal My Girlfriend’s Tickets? They Won’t Be Worthwhile To You

“So, one of my best friends from my freshman year of college is a bouncer at a popular bar on campus, and once in a while, if there’s a concert I like, he’ll set aside a few free tickets for me (as long as I let him know in advance, and usually I pay him back with drinks, food, whatever).

My girlfriend is a major Skrillex fan. It turns out a couple of ‘friends’ in her class were too, so she asked me if I could get my friend to give her and her friends four tickets. I was wary because I didn’t know these chicks and they looked b*tchy, but I trusted her judgment. I talked to my friend, got the tickets, and gave them to my girlfriend.
It turns out that my girlfriend trusted these b******** too much because she gave them the tickets to hold on to since one of them was going to drive everyone (you could use the bus system, but this was February, and it was too cold to wait outside).

Naturally, everything goes south, and my girlfriend is calling me crying a few hours before the concert, saying that the girls just ditched her and decided to bring a different friend instead. Now, I was driving home for the weekend, but as soon as I heard this, I called my dad and told him I’d be a day late. As soon as I explained the situation, he laughed, because he knew I was going to do something in response.

I called my bouncer friend an hour and a half before doors opened, once I’d reached campus again. I let him know about the situation, and since these tickets were those ‘print out and scan the bar code’ kind, he just canceled those four tickets and actually printed out two new ones specifically for me and my girl (I picked them up myself, and he told me he’d kick my a*s if I let anyone have them this time).

My girlfriend was so excited when I told her this, and we both quickly got ready. We showed up right as the doors were going to open, ready to hear a sick bass drop! As we showed up, there was naturally a long as **** line, and luckily, just ahead of us were those b********.

As soon as the doors opened, they started letting people in, scanning tickets, and checking IDs. Once the b******** were getting their tickets scanned, the bouncer (my friend) saw from the error that these were the stolen tickets.

He saw me a little bit behind and told them to wait on the side while he let in the next few people.

After the next ten people, they start whining and complaining that they should be let in because they’re going to lose good spots. He tells them there’s an issue with their tickets, and once my girlfriend and I show up, they immediately shut the *** up and their faces turned really white. He scans our tickets, says to them, ‘Oh look, these were the tickets your girls wanted, weren’t they?’ and they just stormed out of line, p*ssed as ****.

As they left, I yelled, ‘If you want, you can just sit by the walls and feel the bass from there!'” herpderptheslurpderp

10. Grocery Store Brats Get A Whiff Of Something Stinky

Bet that caught them off guard.

“Every Sunday I hit up my neighborhood grocery store for my weekly meal prep. I don’t like shopping so I make a list beforehand. I get there at 7:00 am and know where everything is, so I’m usually in and out of there in 15 minutes.

However, this particular Sunday I was busy in the morning and ended up at the store later than I prefer at 9:00am.

After grabbing my cart I get stuck behind a group of slow walkers who are heading straight for the first aisle on my list. Okay, change of plans, head to aisle 2 on my list. After grabbing my stuff there, I enter the other side of aisle 1 to get my things before heading to aisle 3.

Of course, there is a woman with her 2 children standing right in front of what I need while she looks at the opposite side of the aisle. I politely ask if I can grab a couple of things behind her. She makes a face and begrudgingly moves over.

I passed by the butter four times before I could get in the cooler because some woman was mining for gold or something. My body went on autopilot as the next thing I know I have a full cart and am standing behind two people at the checkout.

A family gets in line behind me and I’m not sure who I want to punch more:

The three children screaming and running around my legs, but not quite hitting me.

The silent father with dead eyes.

The mother, barely audible above the screams, telling her children, ‘You are not behaving very well right now,’ then immediately turning around and letting the kids continue.

Not wanting to cause a scene (and forever have to drive across town for groceries) I stewed.

I’m now next in line when I feel a hand on my hip/ass. I turn to see a woman twice my age holding a bottle of malt liquor. ‘Hey. Lemme get ahead of you. I only have one thing I need to get out of here before my husband notices I left.’ My two modes at that moment are ‘catatonic’ and ‘murderous rage,’ so I take the high road and just let the lady go. I’m staring daggers into the side of her head as she wills her last hopes into the card reader that the sub-$5 purchase is approved.

A guardian angel must have taken mercy on me as my first glimmer of hope came in the form of the cashier handing her a receipt and she exits. Finally, the only thing standing between me and my now very much needed beer is upon me.
I enter my loyalty number on the pin pad (gotta get them points) and put my card in the chip reader. The family behind is standing much too close as I’m ready to enter my PIN.

Side note: I know I am grumpier than most, so I try to let the things that don’t physically harm me go.

However, one of my biggest pet peeves is people looming over my shoulder as I am entering my PIN. As I’m shifting my body to turn my back to the family, I feel it: last night’s dinner has descended, and it was packed with cheese, ground beef, and taco seasoning. My guardian angel was still with me.

I stealthily enter my PIN and grab my card with the family still on my heels. Then, I released it. Silent but deadly does not do this abomination justice. It was as if Satan himself was singing Careless Whisper. Pausing for just a moment to make sure the area of effect was centered at the family until the first stink particle hit my nose signaling my exit before it made me gag.

The heat leaving my pants with each step was symbolic of rising from the depths of ****.

With only a few yards before I was outside, I turned to see the children holding their noses with one hand and flapping the other and the once oblivious parents frantically looking around to find the source of the chemical attack. I walked into the morning sun with a new lease on life and went home to a celebratory beer. Hopefully, the cashier can forgive me.” Reddit user

9. Bully Me For Years? I’ll Write A Diss Track About You

“2018

It’s the first semester in my sophomore year of high school, and there was this other kid who we’ll call Bully-Kid.

He was giving me tons of flak nearly every day at that time for reasons that date back a lot longer than things even should have. So, I took all the things he did (as well as other things) and wrote a diss-track on him that made him look like a complete, bigoted jacka** to many people in the school. (There were even rumors his girlfriend at the time broke up with him because of it, but this is speculation and not my business to begin with).

Now, let me throw out some context.

2012. It’s my fourth-grade year, and I had just moved into town. On the first day of school, I met this dude who I had immediately become friends with and have been friends for just about 8 years by the time of this post. Meet Cool-Kid, we immediately become indulged in a conversation with each other while waiting outside at one of the entrances for the elementary school. Being nine years old at the time, I was without a doubt nervous about going to a new school in a new town with people I hadn’t met before, so having Cool-Kid as an immediate friend was a real weight off of my shoulders.

After being oriented into a few of our classes, most of which I shared with Cool-Kid, it was lunchtime. As you could have guessed, I went and found a seat right across from Cool-Kid. We sit there and start talking about our favorite video games and consoles until someone else sits nearby. Enter Bully-Kid.

Bully-Kid, when I first met him, seemed like a really chill kid despite the name I’m pinning him. We sat there and introduced ourselves, all three of us getting to know each other until it was time for the next class.

One key detail that you should keep in mind for later, was that I learned Bully-Kid was really good friends with Cool-Kid at the time and had known him ever since Kindergarten. The three of us sat there asking random questions about each other until the lunch period was over.

A few weeks later, me and a few other classmates began playing tag at recess. At the time, Cool-Kid was absent since he had an early-dismissal due to a doctor’s appointment.

However, Bully-Kid was there and playing tag with us. We were all having fun for a while until I noticed something odd. Every time that Bully-Kid was ‘it,’ he didn’t bother going after anyone closest to them (like literally everyone else does when they play tag). Instead, he constantly made bee-lines after me alone. Most of the time, I manage to outrun him and camp up on top of the slide where he would soon go after someone else.

The times Bully-Kid did get me, however, he didn’t just tap me. He full-on shoved me and sometimes made an obnoxious comment towards me. I didn’t really care much about it on the first day, but this wasn’t the only game where he had done this.

The next day, when Cool-Kid was actually with us playing tag, Bully-Kid wasn’t bee-lining for me so much, but he was still shoving me and stuff whilst saying the occasional rude comment after tagging me.

I didn’t really want to start drama with Bully-Kid directly at the time, so instead, I had went to talk to Cool-Kid about it the next day when we were in class together.

I explained to Cool-Kid what Bully-Kid had been doing in recess the two days before. Cool-Kid said that he had noticed that kind of behavior during that game. Seeing as Cool-Kid knew Bully-Kid a lot more than I did, I started to question what was up with that and try to get some sort of motive.

We never really came to a conclusion and really there HASN’T been a conclusion for quite a few years after that.

2017

Ever since 2012, Bully-Kid had been becoming a nuisance more and more all the way until middle school. During the second semester of my eighth-grade year, it was well known that Bully-Kid and I hated each other. Cool-Kid was still around, but I was distant with him, not for any bad reason, of course. I was just hanging out with a different group of friends.

During that time, Bully-Kid was being a real a** to me and kept picking on me behind my back, as well as face to face. He was trying to convince people that he was better than I was and tried to get people to know only bad things about me. I confronted him one day and said to his face, “If there was something you want to settle, meet me at the gate.” Bully-Kid surprisingly agreed, and so at the end of the day, I waited there at one of the school gates where people walk to and from school.

(There were two entrances to the school, one of which was the main driveway up the hill where only cars were allowed to go and the other entrance where all the kids walking home went.) I waited there for almost half an hour, but much to my expectations, he didn’t show up for what was going to be a fight. There was almost a whole year of silence between us after that oddly enough, and this is where we go to the good part of the story.

Back to 2018

Now, I’m in sophomore year. The old friend group that I was hanging out with through middle school was essentially disbanded. All of us became distant from each other, and one of the kids even moved to a whole new school district. So I went to my fourth-grade roots and started to hang out a lot more with Cool-Kid. Throughout the beginning of the year, me and Cool-Kid talked a lot about what our lives have been like since 2012, and there was one thing that he told me that really struck me.

Cool-Kid: “I stopped hanging out with Bully-Kid.”

Naturally, I asked why, and it went a little something like this.

Cool-Kid: “Bully-Kid has been a real jerk to me recently.. The same things I notice him doing to you. Which reminds me, there was something I found out about why he was being an *** to you for six years.”

“Go on?”

Cool-Kid: “He’s jealous that you’re my best friend now. ****, he’s been that way even when I have chosen to hang out with you instead ever since fourth-grade.

Essentially he said to me, ‘You’re either hanging out with someone who’s known you all your life or hang out with some kid that came in out of nowhere.'”

At that point, we had finally reached a conclusion after all those years. Recently after Cool-Kid and Bully-Kid’s falling out, he had been a REAL *** to both me and Cool-Kid. Even worse than he was middle school. Eventually, Bully-Kid snapped at me during a physics class, and the whole class stared at me and him, and even Cool-Kid looked shocked.

Bully-Kid was fuming mad while I sat there with a smile on my face. This was when I had a plan.

On the weekend just after he snapped at me, I went to work on something that absolutely no one had any idea about. I was writing a diss track on him. I had a lyric video edited and everything. It took me around 14 hours straight on a Saturday morning to finish up writing, recording, editing, and putting it on YouTube.

(The video isn’t available anymore, so don’t go looking for it.) I had written in so much dirt about Bully-Kid and essentially how petty he was (which is ironic, since the fact I wrote a diss track is kinda petty in itself when I look at it in hindsight). I mentioned how he treated people and the fact that he has gone through nearly 5 girlfriends at the time.. so he really looked like a f*ckboy.

Monday morning, Cool-Kid and I were on the bus back to our main school from the vocational school we both attended. He had heard and seen the diss track that was about Bully-Kid and was a little proud of me, but I could also tell he was hoping for a better resolution than that. I agreed with him but also had a sense of confidence and boldness and was honestly a little curious about what was gonna happen once we got to school.

As soon as I had arrived at school and went up to my English class, there were at least 10 kids in there who had the diss track video playing on their phones while a few others went up to me and offered me high fives and stuff. It was absolutely surreal. Throughout the day, I even had some of the freshman and middle schoolers come up to me asking if I was ‘that kid who wrote the diss track.’ In short, I was a celebrity in the school for about a day or two, and EVERYONE had heard what I put out there.

After the two days of what I felt to be undeserved fame and glory, I was back to being the one kid that everyone kinda knew, but didn’t really talk with.

I haven’t had a single word spoken to me from Bully-Kid ever since that day, and it’s been nearly two years since then. The one thing I will say about that Monday morning was how satisfying the look of defeat was on that jealous punk’s face when I saw him in English.

Everyone knew what kind of stuff he did to me and Cool-Kid over the years, as well as some other dirt I managed to get from his past girlfriends. (All of which were a year younger than him, oddly). One thing I know for certain is that he’s never gonna come at me or Cool-Kid ever again.

Revenge? Achieved.” overkillwastaken

8. Steal Other People’s Work? I’ll Shoot A Quick E-mail

And that’s all it took.

“For a while, I worked as a web designer in a small ad agency serving a very niche industry.

Previously, the design team had no creative lead, and were all sort of operating independently across varying clients. We decided to hire a creative director to fill that gap, and I was given the task of sorting through and giving first-round interviews to find the person who would later become my supervisor.

Two candidates in particular stood out from the rest for very different reasons. One was exceptionally talented, an all-around nice guy, and somebody who generally would have been great for the role.

The other, let’s call him John, had mediocre talent, came across as an insufferable, arrogant pr*ck, but had previous experience working within the niche industry that we serviced. He also had contacts within that industry that could lead to new business. Despite my strong recommendation to not hire John, his relationships in the industry were too compelling to our agency’s leadership to p*** up, and they hired him.
It didn’t take long before the entire company started to realize John was a huge burden.

He had virtually zero experience in anything related to digital design. Design for apps, websites, mobile, etc., were all completely and utterly beyond his grasp, but he used his position of relative power to make decisions on those projects that the entire design team refused to support, most of which came back to bite the company in the *** later. The design team hated him because fixing and working around his screw-ups became part of our daily routine.

The sales team hated him because he’d claim it took him unbelievably exaggerated amounts of time to complete even the most trivial of tasks (ex: 4 days to design a business card template), so they wouldn’t even ***ign him projects anymore.

Work that was clearly his responsibility started to rapidly trickle down to the rest of the design team. We’d be working late nights 4 out of 5 days a week because all of his projects that were in danger of missing deadlines would be re-***igned to us.

Meanwhile, he’d be the first to walk out the door every day, right at 5 PM, without fail. On top of all that, the guy was absolutely, without a doubt, the biggest tool I’ve ever met. Always right about everything, completely unbending on his idiotic opinions, and completely clueless that literally every person in the building wished he would get hit by a truck.
I genuinely tried to work with him for about a year, until I decided that the job had become intolerable because of him, and wasn’t going to change any time soon, so I turned in my two-week notice.

About a month after I left, I heard that he had been let go from the job. Shortly after that, I noticed that he had changed his LinkedIn status to show that he was working for a new agency I had never heard of, also servicing that same niche industry. I looked them up, and quickly figured out that he had started his own agency… a primarily digital agency… when he had NO experience in digital or interactive design and had literally effed up every digital/interactive project he’d ever been on (I know because most of them were reassigned to me when he proved incapable of doing them himself).

I looked at the portfolio on his website and found literally project after project of my work.

He was using my work from the ad agency as examples of the work his agency could produce.
I briefly considered contacting him and requesting he remove my work from his portfolio for ethical reasons. But I could already hear his reply in my head. ‘As creative lead, all work done by my team is an extension of my creative direction.’ He’d used similar lines in the past to insert himself into receiving credit on successful projects he’d had zero involvement on.

So instead I sent an email to one of the partners of the agency we had both worked for, saying something along the lines of, ‘Hey, not sure if you’ve noticed this, but it looks like John is using your company’s intellectual property to directly compete against you.

If I had to guess, I’d assume his next step would be to make a move at your client list.’

The reply was short and sweet: ‘Thanks for bringing this to my attention.

He’ll be hearing from our attorney in the morning.’ John’s website was brought down less than 24 hours later.” dr_tantis_moboggan

7. Disrespect Your Own Wife In Public? Enjoy Your Potatoes

“I work as a server at a very large restaurant chain that serves unlimited soup and salad as an entree. I was seated with an older married couple during a lunch shift. The wife was very sweet, but the husband was very clearly on a power trip. He didn’t allow his wife to change her order, picked her drink for her, and interrupted her special salad request by stopping her mid-sentence and having her present her face to him so he could pick off an imaginary piece of lint.

She was embarrassed but was keeping the peace.

Because we are a high volume restaurant, our production line is a well-oiled machine that requires all food to be run through the computer and turns tickets for us in less than 10 minutes. However, servers build salads and portion out soups on their own to accommodate the demand of bottomless refills. The soup that the husband ordered for both of them sometimes comes with large slices of potato and can be one of our prettiest meals if plated properly.

The first round of soup I served to them had all of the ingredients but was missing the large pieces of the pretty potato because it was closer to the end of the soup.

After serving them their first round, he began to make sideways comments about the composition of the soups. Asking if we had a new cook, insisting that the recipe had changed, telling his wife to take a look at her bowl because she had potatoes “this time” on their second round.

I approached their table to see if they wanted a third round, and before I could speak he turned and barked “YES.” and rolled his eyes.

Cue petty revenge. All of my questions for the table were direct to her, and I prompted her with extra options, toppings from the salad bar, different drinks.

A new cistern of this soup was brought out by the time I was pulling their third round. His wife received the largest slices of potato, plated high and beautiful, and he received the chopped bits every time.

The husband was disgruntled, but she was happy to engage.

He ended up stealing my favorite blue pen, but she left a nice tip under her last soup bowl. I can only hope that she felt seen during my short period of time waiting on her.” sphb17

6. Change My Schedule Without Informing Me? Not My Responsibility

Communication is key.

“When I was hired for the job which I currently work, I was hired to work on Tuesday through Saturday from 2 PM to 10 PM.

This had been my schedule for months, never changing (as I was verbally told that this was my set schedule, I even clarified this because I had to arrange childcare). For example, one week I was accidentally left off the schedule entirely and was told to just work my normal schedule.

Around Thanksgiving time, we closed down for a week. The company policy is that you have to work your last scheduled shift before the break and your first scheduled shift after in order to get your holiday pay.

On the Monday following Thanksgiving (remember I’m normally off on Mondays), I got a call saying I was scheduled to work and that because I didn’t come in I wouldn’t get my holiday pay.

This kind of p*ssed me off because I had been told I would work Tuesday-Saturday and thus had only arranged childcare those days, so I couldn’t come in that day if I wanted to. The exact phrase I was told over the phone was “It is your responsibility to check the schedule every week because we don’t have set schedules.”

Fast forward to this week.

While checking the schedule, I noticed that my schedule is the same as normal with the exception that I am off the schedule on Saturday. So, I decided to not look a gift horse in the mouth and just take the 3 day weekend and don’t mention to my boss that she left me off.

So Saturday (which I normally would work), I don’t go in since I’m not scheduled. I got a call from work and didn’t answer (no voicemail left).

Then I receive a text from my boss saying that my schedule “never changes” and it will be a no call/no show on my attendance record for not coming in to work. I reply that I am not on the schedule and so I’m not required to come in, as it is my responsibility to check the schedule every week because we don’t have set schedules.

I received no further reply and am looking forward to seeing how work goes on Tuesday.

Forgot to mention this, but I took a picture of the schedule to make sure that I can prove I was off on the schedule in case my boss tries to write me up. And in case you don’t feel like looking through all the comments, I do have a new job lined up and am just waiting for my start date before I quit this one.” the803project

The Follow-up:
“Before work today, I had a follow-up interview yesterday for the new job I mentioned.

I was offered the position I wanted and was told I can start as soon as I want.

I came into work today intending to work the shift today before leaving as it’s the last day of the pay period.

When I got to work today, I clocked in and didn’t see any managers or anything, so I started working. After 15 minutes or so, my boss came out and asked, “the803project, you really couldn’t come in on Saturday?” Obviously they knew the answer, and I said no.

They then asked me what I was doing that I couldn’t work my usual shift; I replied that it wasn’t their concern what I do on a day I’m not at work.

They simply nodded quietly and walked away.

About an hour later, the boss came over and asked to see me for a minute. I go to their office and there is a manager (they are above me and lower than the boss) sitting in there as well.

A condensed version of the discussion: Boss has a write-up and gives me a spiel about the attendance policy and said I have to get written up for a no call/no show. I refused to sign the write-up, as I wasn’t scheduled, so I couldn’t NC/NS a shift is not scheduled for. The manager seemed a little confused (I don’t think they were told that the boss didn’t put me on the schedule and that’s why I didn’t show up), so I pull the picture up of the schedule on my phone and show it to the manager, who then agrees with me that it isn’t an NC/NS.

The boss said I know what my normal schedule is as a full-time employee and so I should have clarified that it wasn’t a mistake. I said it wasn’t my responsibility to double-check the schedule they put out and reminded them that I was told my responsibility was to check the schedule every week because we don’t have set schedules. Boss said something about “for future reference…” about working my normal schedule and I said okay and asked if I could go now.

I debated whether or not to stay the rest of the shift before deciding to go ahead and leave, so I wrote and signed (and documented) a note saying I was quitting effective immediately and I left it on the boss’ desk and told a manager on my way to the time clock.

This is the first and only time I’ve quit without giving two weeks notice.” the803project

5. Don’t Trick My Kid Into Consuming Dog Food Again; I Play Dirty

“There are twin boys that live next door to me.

I can’t stress how much these kids suck. They are pretty much famous in the neighborhood to the point where people gasp when they find out I live next to them.

Now I make it a point to be a good and friendly neighbor. I seem to be the only people that get along with the parents.

The last thing I want is to live next to someone I hate.

Last week, my 4-year-old son runs up to me saying “Daddy! [Twins] tricked me into eating dog food!” He is my oldest, so I’m somewhat green when it comes to parenting.

Maybe this is why my ***** began to boil. I’ve had some instances where he would get pushed on the playground, but they were always by kids close to his age. But a 12-year-old tricking a 4-year-old? That’s sadistic.

I look outside and they are in the yard. I stand on my porch and ask them if they made him eat dog food. They responded with a snarky “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I told them they have one more chance to tell the truth and the ***** responded: “Your son is lying.”

Couple things pointed to the fact my son wasn’t lying.

First, we don’t have dogs. For him to associate the fact they have dogs, and therefore dog food in the house is not something 4-year-olds really do. Second, the accusation was very specific. Again, something typical 4-year-olds aren’t really equipped to do in a lie.

I call my son out to the porch with me and made the twins face their accuser. I told my son that they are saying they didn’t do it and that he is the one who is lying.

He responded with, “I’m not lying daddy!”

At this point, I told one of the twins to go get some of the dog food. When he was gone I asked my son to describe the dog food to the other twin.

Without missing a beat he responds pretty specifically, “brown with black in the middle, square and kind of twisty.” The kid returned with a piece of kibble. My son’s description sorta-kinda resembled the description. It was squarish but more round and had some black flecks in the middle.

I explained to the twins that one of them is lying and that if it’s my son, then he’s going to get grounded for a month (not true… 10-minute timeout tops). The alpha of the two sighs and says that they tricked him but it was a “human treat… A treat for people.” I told him to go get it.

He returns with a bacon treat for dogs and looks exactly as my son had described.

I told him, “If it’s a human treat, then eat it”.

He looked long and hard at it, then looked at me. Before he could speak I explained that if he ate it, I’d forgive him, and I wouldn’t tell his parents. Sure enough, amid nervous laughter, the little ***** ate the thing. All he said was, “That was crunchier than I thought it would be.”

I explained to the other twin he’s lucky I didn’t make him eat it too.” Reddit user

4. Illegally Park In A Handicap Spot? I’ll Park Behind You

“My dad drives a huge truck.

After he had back surgery, he had one of those temporary disabled placards. For a while, he was really in a lot of pain, and used it on the days he was having the most trouble.

At one point, he stops at his favorite restaurant and is going to pull into the handicap parking. Someone cuts him off and parks there. No placard, nothing on the plate. They simply weren’t handicapped.

My dad asked them, ‘Hey, would you mind moving? I was about to pull into that spot, and you don’t seem to have a placard.’ (Or some version of that, very polite.) And they just looked at him with a face full of disgust and said eff off ****** (literally, they said that).

They walked into the restaurant.

So, what does my dad do? He waits for them to eat.

He literally just sits in the parking lot in front of their space, blocking it.

They come out after about an hour. When my dad sees them coming out (he’s still sitting in the car, directly behind their car) he simply turns off his truck and gets out. He begins to walk into the restaurant, and they notice what he’s doing. They can’t leave.

My dad’s truck is completely blocking them (and only them).

They swear at my dad, who stops and smiles. They threaten to call the police.

My dad (a retired cop) just goes, ‘Go ahead. That’s at least a 500 dollar fine for parking in the handicap spot.’ They just stood there.

He went inside, ate leisurely, came out, and left. They just sat in their car the entire time. Guess they didn’t want that fine after all.” kallynn1215

3. Act Like A Crazy Woman On The Road? We’ll Slow Traffic Down For Ya

“So, this happened a few years ago but will always remain one of my favorite memories.

My older brother had joined the Marines and was stationed 2 hours away in a popular beach town for training. Being that my mom and I love the beach, we traveled every so often to visit him on his weekends off.

After a great visit with my brother, we decided to head home. This particular weekend, there was some huge classic car event in the town that brought in people from all over. The result was Sunday bumper to bumper traffic on the freeway.

My mom and I had left early but still not early enough to avoid the traffic. My mom likes to leave a bit of room between her and the car in front as an extra bit of stopping cushion, not enough that a whole car could fit between but enough.

So, we’re sitting in traffic just talking about life when the car behind us lays on their horn. We look at each other wondering what that’s about and turn to look at why the driver was honking.

I stare straight into the eyes of ye ole Karen, graying hair in a short bob and everything.

This lady is glaring a death glare at our car, honking at us to move forward. Seriously?! When I say this traffic was bumper to bumper, I mean it! Any movement from my mom wouldn’t have been more than an inch. Apparently, that inch we weren’t moving was enough to trigger this Karen’s road rage.

Mom and I look at each other in shock asking, “Where does she want us to go?!” She mouths “****” at us, and we decide to get petty AF!

Since the slow lane is also the lane cars merge onto, and this lady literally couldn’t move around us, we began waving cars in front of us, purposefully slowing down to leave PLENTY of room for a car or two (or 10) to merge onto the freeway ahead of us.

Every time a car thanks us and pulls ahead of us, we high five each other in full view of Karen.

We’ve got the music blasting, the windows down, and we are laughing and high fiving each other left and right, waving much more grandly than needed and smiling at each driver that’s smiling back at us. We even made sure to look back at Karen and smile. She sat, stewing in her car and calling us every name under the sun.

Eventually, the lanes merged into one lane, and my mom and I took an exit towards home that had very few cars. Meanwhile, Karen’s route took her on the same road that most of the other cars were heading down, which meant she still had to deal with bumper to bumper while we cruised on home.

It was the most enjoyable traffic jam I’ve ever been in.” ProSmartA1

Another User Comments:

“I dated a girl who was extremely non-confrontational in person, but in a car, she turned into a psycho.

As in she would honk MY horn if someone hesitated the slightest at any light. I knew she was looking for any excuse to cuss out another driver.

We broke up, and she got pregnant (non-related). She called me one day to tell me a story where a guy ‘cut her off’ by pulling out in front of her. She claimed she followed him for 5 minutes, laying on the horn and flipping him the bird. I put it down to her extreme tendency towards exaggeration until she said the cops pulled her over after the other driver reported her for reckless driving.

Las Vegas cops have horrible response times; if they caught up with her she must have been at it for a while.

The cop pulled her over and read her the riot act, threatening her with tickets and maybe jail time. She told him to shove it and arrest the 911 caller instead. She b*tched him out to the point he told her to step out of the car. Did I mention she was pregnant? As in, 8.5 months, huge belly, all on a 5’10” stick of a girl who weighed maybe 105 pounds when not carrying a mini-human.

The cop was terrified at being cussed out on the side of the road by a hormonal lady about to burst and more or less begged her to just get in the car and leave.” jairatraci

2. Act Like An Entitled Plane Passenger? I’ll Sneeze On You

“So, I was on a British Airways flight from London to Denver in 2017. It usually runs about 9 hours. Since I wasn’t prepared to drop several hundred British Pounds to upgrade to business class, I was in coach.

I don’t really mind it, but I am a big dude. Even without the extra bulk I’ve put on in recent years, I still have a broad chest and shoulders, so those narrow seats tend to be a bit uncomfortable for me, but I can distract myself with a few movies on the plane.

On this particular flight, though, the guy in front of me was relaxing with his hands behind his head, by draping them in front of my screen.

This dude had long a** arms too. It’s not like just a few fingertips; he was blocking the whole d*mn screen. If you’ve been on one of those planes, you know what an achievement that is. Plus, he kept hitting the touch screen and screwing with my movie. I know it sounds entitled, but I don’t want to stare at some dude’s hands for 9 hours.

I politely tap his shoulder and ask if he could move his hands.

He grunted an apology and moved them. About 5 minutes later, they were back. Another tap on the shoulder, another grunt, and another 5 hands-free moments. The third time, I reach up and just give his hand a little squeeze. That surprised him but not enough to make him keep his hands away. So, the next time, I grabbed his hand as I leaned over and whispered, “Hey princess” in his ear. He looked at me like I was some sort of freak.

I thought I had won. For 30 glorious minutes, I reveled in my victory as I watched a Disney movie. But then, those ****** hands came back. Son. Of. A. ****! I sat there, trying to think of what I could do. I considered rubbing some phallic-shaped object on his palm to really creep him out, but except for the real thing (which I had no intention of pulling out on an airplane). I had nothing available that would work.

I’d have killed for an uncooked bratwurst right then. The stranger next to me was watching because by this time he was curious about the resolution of these events like someone invested in reading a great story. Then it hit me.

I’m not proud of this. I know it was childish. But I was desperate for victory…

I sneezed all over his hands. I forced myself to do it, and I made sure the spray hit him. The guy sitting next to me almost crapped himself laughing, and honestly, it was hard to keep a straight face when the dude in front of me stood up to turn and face me.

I had to just play it smooth like, “Sorry, allergies just hit me there for a sec” like I’m in some pollen-infested field and not a climate-conditioned airplane. He didn’t look like he believed me but sat back down.

The rest of the flight, I had a hands-free view of the screen. He occasionally started reaching up then would stop himself. I couldn’t help but grin a little. Few things feel better than beating your enemy so bad that they don’t even try anymore.” Artilleryman08

1. Wannabe “Beautician” Manager Mistreats Customers, So I Quit On The Spot

“Back in 2014, I just turned 26 at the beginning of May and started a 6 months long internship at the beauty salon near where I live.

At the time, I was learning to become a beautician, so I already had the theoretical knowledge I wanted to use in practice.

In my job center, I was given information that a newly opened beauty salon nearby is looking for people for internships, so I applied and got it. I was supposed to be a beautician/nail stylist at the place after short training. I was thrilled! It meant more practical knowledge and experience for me before the final exams at beauty school.

Or so it seemed.

Let me give you a backup for the story… The owner – let’s call her The Dragon Lady – used to work as a cashier in one of the big retail group, and she thought she’s amazing in customer service. Note: she wasn’t. Dragon Lady took a course in nail styling and hired a beautician with years of experience to do the other part of service in the salon. And after a few months, I started my internship.

One month goes by and the only thing I do is taking in phone calls from customers and cleaning the “back end” of the salon. Anything other than that I am allowed to observe the work of the owner – nail styling. I was able to also watch the work of the beautician. I didn’t mind – it was the first month of the 6 months long period I was supposed to be there.

The second month comes along, and nothing changes.

I’m taking calls, cleaning, and watching. Third month – no change. By now, I’m basically a receptionist/cleaner at the place. On a weekly basis, I politely asked when could I eventually start the actual internship in doing what I was supposed to – nail styling and actively assist the beautician. The response I got from the owner: “I can’t trust you! You better do what you’re good at: cleaning!”

“But I came here because you mentioned in the offer to take someone to be a beautician/nail stylist and not cleaner and receptionist,” I mentioned in the softest way possible.

I never liked to argue, and with my low self-esteem at the time, I was running away from every situation that could end that way.

“I don’t remember that! You go back to your work as you get paid for that!” Dragon Lady snarled, so I backed out.

The beautician and I began on a much nicer note, so we eventually became very friendly. She told me she heard everything, and I should stand up for myself. That happened before the owner went on a 2-weeks-long holiday abroad.

Once she came back, the beautician had her 2 weeks leave, and unfortunately, at the same time, I got bronchitis. In the middle of summer because of constant AC being turned on in the salon that the customers mentioned frequently to be an issue for them as well.

Both me and the beautician came back at the same time to work. 2 weeks without beautician’s customers took its tool on the Dragon Lady’s business, and she snapped.

I witnessed an argument between them both of not having customers over while the beautician gasped in shock. “I was on holiday that you approved, you moron! And she (mentioned my name) was sick. Besides, you would not trust her to take my customers over. Would you?!”

The Dragon Lady, with her heavyweight, leggings with donuts prints on them, and brick red on the face, slammed the door to the back as the customer came in. Once she came back, the customer gave in a complaint about badly made nails.

The nails SHE MADE!

Dragon Lady: “I don’t know what you mean. I like them!”

Customer: “But it’s not about YOU. I don’t like them and request remaking them as I asked previously”.

DL, visibly shaking: “I will NOT correct them because I like what I did.”

Customer: “You literally cut my fingers to the *****!”

DL: “(my name), please sign this… lady… to a new visit. I’m tired.”

The week did not end, and I still wasn’t able to do what the internship promised.

At this time, it’s been 3,5 out of 6 months. The beautician told me she will not extend her contract with the b*tchy owner, and so I thought to myself, that I’ve had enough. It was Thursday. I asked one last time, when will I be able to finally start the proper internship. Dragon Lady was fuming!
Dragon Lady: I don’t like how you keep on staring at me when I work!

Me: But this is what you told me to do.

DL: I told you to take calls and clean, you idiot!

Me: But this was supposed to be a beautician/ nail stylist internship…

DL: Don’t tell me how to hold internships! I know it way better than you!

This is when I snapped. I’ve had enough.

Me: I think you know as much about it as I do about quantum physics, lady! I QUIT! And the job centers will find out how you’re abusing your position!

I rushed back to take my stuff and just left right there and then.

Fast forward a few months to September, and the beautician left to open a mobile beauty salon, where she came to customers directly with all equipment in a car and was doing better than never.

Fast forward a few YEARS, and I was told by the beautician that the owner tried to do the beautician’s job on her own without ANY training. That’s how she lost these customers. On the flip side, customers of the nail salon also left as she sucked at this job as well – even with the training.

Bottom line, Dragon Lady never had another intern and is now doing the nails only to friends and family. The beauty salon was closed within less than 24 months since opening.” Izzy_The_Squirrel

You don’t have to be a mean person to know that sometimes people deserve a little revenge. Speaking of which, here are some more great small revenge stories you might enjoy!