Ya know what sucks about being a nice person? People thinking they can take advantage of them. Well, no more. These people share the time they FINALLY got back at the person that did them dirty in the most EPIC way. Content has been edited for clarity purposes.
"A woman rear-ended me pretty bad and told me not to call the cops because she was on the way to a drinker support meeting and she would lose her license. She called her boyfriend, who was a lawyer and he told me to let her go and to come to his office, and he would pay cash for all repairs if I brought in an estimate.
I did as requested, but the lawyer laughed at me and said there was no proof and I wouldn’t get a cent. I was completely broke and knew I could not afford the repairs. Furthermore, the car was not legally drivable as it was.
It was late one night when I went to the drinker support meeting via bicycle (she had said where it was in passing and I checked the schedule). I confronted her on her way out. She confessed her license was suspended and she had been driving without a license that day.
Since it was summer, I had days free from class and rode my bicycle to the lawyer’s office for a few days to learn his schedule from across the street. Slowly a plan for revenge took shape in my mind. When I knew his beautiful car would be unattended for a while, I filled his gas tank with loads of sand and sugar. At the time, I lived in a bad neighborhood and there were always abandoned cars around. I had taken the rear plate off on one with an expired tag and put that on his car. Next, I slashed all four tires with a small slit so the air would slowly be gone by the time he was leaving.
Now I was only able to see the first part of my plan from my perch. He came out from his office, saw the car sitting low to the ground, and started screaming like a banshee. And this is how I imagined the rest: He paid to get the car towed, they replaced/patched the tires so he drove off, but then the engine failed eventually because of the sand and sugar. He tows it again, pays for repairs (or new /rebuilt engine?), drives off, and is pulled over for expired plates.
Since he arrogantly never took my information and never even looked at the repair estimate, he didn’t know the name of his saboteur. I actually didn’t tell anyone about this when it was going on (my girlfriend would not have approved) and very few since. About a year later, I drove by the office and saw it was no longer his. I feel like the woman probably would have done the right thing but she was just mixed up with a prick. Hopefully the events I started made it clear to her. Sweet Secret Revenge."
"When I was in middle school I got picked on a lot, I was that really big kid who just did not stand up for himself. Every new school I went to it usually started okay, until one kid would test me and see me not do anything about it, then it would spread like wildfire. Needless to say, I had a miserable time in middle school.
It was spring and at the time I was a part of the track team. Being a bigger kid, I threw shot-put and discus.
There was this one fat prick named Eric, who wasn't all too popular himself, and he had decided to earn some credit for himself if he would start laying into me. I would snap back at him every time he insulted me, but I didn't want to take it past there and he knew this. The constant insults continued for weeks, every day after school I had to stay for practice for a couple of hours, and there was Eric constantly heckling me. One day, I decided I had enough, my mind was made up I was either going to get beat up or I was going to demolish that prick.
Having never been in a fight before, I worked out how I wanted to do this for quite a while in my head before beginning, meanwhile the whole time he just kept running his mouth. I was at the point between tears and blind rage. I was standing in the discus ring holding the discus, and there was his fat ginger face cackling at me. I decided I would throw the discus at him and then charge. In my mind's eye, I imagined that the discus would hit him in the arm or back, or possibly even get slapped away as I ran towards him. After all, I tossed it underhanded like a frisbee, not what I thought had any force behind it.
Nope. Instead, he just stood there, staring as the discus flew towards his face. I will never forget the sound/sight of when the discus made contact. I could hear his jaw shatter as a heavy spirit of bloodshot from his face.
You see, Eric had braces, and not only did the discus break his jaw, and burst straight through his bottom lip, but it also quickly dislodged most of his front teeth, sending his brace wires sprawling in all directing digging into the flesh of his cheeks and gums.
The amount of blood pouring from his face was nauseating, and all of a sudden the rage that had been building inside of me was gone and replaced by immense sadness for him. He took off running towards the coaches, and I was right behind him. I couldn't contain my crying as I followed step by step behind him, hearing the gargling wails and screams for help.
We were both ushered into the coach's office quickly, I was too hysterical to answer any questions. Then the ambulance came and picked him up, while my way overprotective and somewhat sociopathic older brother came and sheltered me from the barrage of incriminating questions coming from the coaches. My brother grabbed me to pull me out of the room and to take me home, but the coach shoved past him and pushed me back into the chair stating that I wasn't going anywhere. My brother turned around and knocked him out cold and we left.
Over the next few days, everyone kept their distance from me at school. The principal finally called me in and asked that I write a statement of what happened. I said it was an accident and that it slipped. Turns out the rest of the guys who were around had turned in statements saying the same thing, while later they confessed they thought Eric had it coming, and they were glad I had finally stood up for myself.
Truth is, I don't feel great about it. As an adult, it is one of the memories that still haunt me. What makes it even worse is that we moved that year and I ended up going to a different nearby high school in the same district. Freshman year at track practice, the coach sat us down and told everyone my story as a cautionary tale of safety. I don't think he knew it was me he was speaking about. Over the next few years, I would hear classmates, teachers, and other people in the community repeat it as almost an urban myth, all the while I sat quietly knowing the true story because it was about me."
"When I was around 12 and my brother was around13 or 14, we had a race to get to the shower. He only wanted to take one because I said I was going to take one first. Naturally, he beat me there.
To take revenge, I flushed the downstairs toilet. I don't know if anyone else lived in that old of a house before, but our house was close to a hundred years old. So flushing the toilet would mess with the water temperature. It was shooting out fiery hot boiling lava water. I kept flushing it. I flushed it every single time I could.
About 45 minutes later, he called me upstairs. He said the water was too hot and that he couldn't figure out what to do. He had shampoo in his eyes and he couldn't rinse it off. We turned off the shower and I took him outside to our backyard. I sprayed him down with the hose. The whole time he kept telling me what a good sister I was and how much he appreciated this. People we knew walked by our street they thought it was hilarious.
I wasn't going to tell him. I was going to save it and do it every single time he got to the shower, but my mom caught me the next time I did it and she told everyone."
"My first job was in retail, and I was really close with the rest of the team. Some newcomers were hired for the summer, which gave us some healthy competition (we were on commission). One girl kept stealing everyone else's sales and when she was confronted, she didn't care and continued taking everyone's sales.
Our schedule was always done on paper, and it was everyone's job to read their schedules properly for the following week. In the case you couldn't physically come into the store to write your schedule, you had to call and speak to a manager to read out your schedule over the phone. Anyways, she ended up calling and didn't ask for a manager to give her her schedule. I gave her all the wrong shifts, which followed by termination due to job abandonment (missing work three shifts in a row)."
"I went on a bachelor weekend trip for a friend of mine with a bunch of guys from the wedding party. It wasn't anything crazy with dancers. But we did do some bar hopping. It was a Friday night and I had gotten up for work around four that morning and was pretty beat by about one that night, so I left the bar and went home a little earlier than everyone else.
We had filled the bathtub with ice and drinks and drank about half of what we purchased before heading to the bar. What was the reason I brought that up? I woke up completely covered in baby powder. It was completely caked in my eyes, nose, hair, ears and mouth. My nose was dried out and so was my mouth. We were all supposed to head out on a fishing trip that morning at around six.
So, without batting an eye (mostly because I couldn't open them), I headed right for the shower, which was full of drinks, water, and cardboard cases. I quickly took a cold shower and got all the powder off and headed to the boat. Only four out of the eight of us made it on the trip. Everyone was shocked with how well I was taking having been seriously antiqued. But, I simply asked a few questions and got the answers I needed to hear, and went about my day as if nothing happened.
Turns out it was an old roommate of mine that did it to me. He was too messed up to make it on the boat trip and was sleeping it off in the hotel room. So, the moment you've all been waiting for - the revenge part.
While we were heading into the dock after a day of fishing, I filled a water bottle full of all the bait juice and little pieces of squid and raw bait fish. I filled it to the brim. I was very quiet about it and didn't let anyone know what I was up to. We all made it back to the hotel and I acted like I was heading back to my room, but instead, I went over to this guy's car. I proceeded to pour half the bottle down the AC vent, underneath the windshield. But I wasn't done there.
I went over to his room and knocked on the door. He opened it up and I calmly squirted half of what was left in his face.
While he was squirming around and screaming, 'What did you spray on me?!'
I sprayed his bag of clothes and then him one more time for good measure. Then I walked out of the door.
So, the best part? He cleaned everything up and 'got over it.' But he had no idea that his car had been filled with this juice and it was literally cooking in his ac vent for the next two days. When we went to drive home (a two-and-a-half-hour drive back), he kept complaining to everyone that, 'The smell just won't go away.'
For two and a half hours in 90-degree weather, he blasted his AC with fish juice directly into his face. He ended up selling the car a month later because he just couldn't get the smell out."
"My ex-mother-in-law was one of those 'a wife serves her husband and does everything' kind of people. She always criticized me for my housework, the meals I cooked, everything. I decided to get even by filling a sock with the dust from my vacuum canister. Every day I would stop by her house and take a moment to shake the sock around her house. It left dust everywhere. The floors were the easiest. Everyone's socks would get dirty from walking around. Her husband was noticing she wasn't doing her 'duty.'
The best was when I went and shook dust all over her couch pillows and returned that night. I made a show of flopping down on the couch from being 'so exhausted' from work. Dust went everywhere.
Her husband was like, 'What on Earth ------, don't you ever vacuum?'
"I had this really annoying neighbor a few years ago. She and her boyfriend always did random things to me and my stuff. Once she drew on my car with a sharpie (it was of a male's part), stole my garbage bins, and hid them in her backyard.
I had called the police on her many times, but she had connections there so she was always let off. Then she killed my cat. He was an outdoors cat, and while he was chilling, she fed him rat poison. How do I know? She told me so.
Apparently, he was 'agitating' her dogs so she killed him. Her dogs were fancy, top-notch, 10K piece dogs. They were all show dogs and adorable. So I took all three of them and gave them to various friends/family members.
One is in Canada, one is in the United Kingdom, and another is in Japan. I didn't think I would get away with it, but she didn't have any of those tracking microchips in her dogs so I literally just took off the collar and they were mine. I moved shortly after that, but apparently, she's still looking for them."
"I was a chef for a famous all-inclusive hotel chain.
One day I was approached in the kitchen and told I needed to pack my bags and move 3000 miles away to fix a labor issue at another hotel. I happily obliged but negotiated a deal where I would have my choice of any hotel location after I successfully fixed the labor issue.
I arrived at the new hotel and proceeded to diligently address the labor problem, while also taking over dinner service for 750 people.
After a few months, the labor issue had been fixed and settled, and the kitchen was running as smoothly as I like. I asked my manager about when I could make the move to another hotel per our arrangement. I was told since I had done such a good job that they were going to make me stay where I was for an indeterminate amount of time (forever).
I let my management know this was unacceptable, and I demanded I be transferred in accordance with the original agreement that got me on a plan in the first place. I was told they would work on it.
I gave them a three-week window to address the issue - to give them time to discuss it with the head office and amongst other management members. I told them if they did not come through in three weeks, I would walk off the job and never look back.
After three quiet weeks, I politely asked my manager if my transfer had come through or at least was still in the works. It was not.
The next morning, I gave the entire dinner staff the day off and told them not to answer any work calls. I set up the kitchen as if I were prepping dinner - onions and herbs in hotel pans full of water with foil covers, garlic sizzling in pans, and other prepped items.
I kept the charade up until around four-thirty in the evening at which time I left the kitchen, went to my room, picked up my bags, and went to the lobby to wait for my ride. The manager came out freaked (there were 750 pre-paid dinner reservations that night and NO food) and told me if I walked out I would never work for the company again. I laughed, shook his hand, and said goodbye.
I never looked back and never talked to anyone there ever again. This was 20+ years ago."
"I was at a huge music festival in Wales when some muscled prick raver idiots stole all our cans out of our tent and drank the stuff in plain sight while laughing at us all. We confronted them and they denied it. They were much bigger than us and were surrounded by their friends.
The next day, they all left to go to the main venue tents. So my mate ran, dived into their tent, and disappeared for a good 10 minutes.
I was wondering, What on Earth was he doing?!
So I walked over and opened up the tent, only to find him squatting over a hole he had dug in the ground in the middle of their tent. He was taking the biggest turd I had ever seen, just nonchalantly pooping in this hole. Once he finished up, he dragged the canvas flooring back over the hole and took a quick look for any six-packs we could have. But we couldn't find any, so we walked back to our tent.
For the rest of the festival, we could hear those idiots shouting about the ripe smell of turd everywhere until one of the lad's girlfriends decided to drag the canvas bottom out of the tent and found the hidden treasure. Suffice to say they had ticked off more people than just us so when they confronted us, all we could do was deny it completely and laugh. I was surprised we didn't get beaten up simply for laughing about the situation as we did.
Overall, it was a good festival."
"Several years back, a girlfriend of mine had come over to my house to bring me some leftovers from a big family holiday party they had held at her house. While she was there, I said I had to take out the garbage and so she sat down to use my computer. She logged on to her messenger and messed around on the computer for a bit. I came back in and she told me she had to hurry and get home because of some family emergency so I walked her out to her car and kissed her goodbye. I went back upstairs and saw text messages to her phone were flashing all over my computer.
She had forgotten to log out and her telecom service provider and the messenger company had an agreement where texts could be sent/received via the computer. I read message after message for seven hours. Getting progressively tipsier as I did. From the one-sided content of the messages, I was able to ascertain that she was currently dating at least five different men and had actually left my house to go to one of her other boyfriend's house to spend the night. I continued to drink and read the messages well into the night. At about one o'clock in the night, I went to the payphone in front of my apartment and called the cell phone of the boyfriend at whose house she was staying. He answered groggily and I asked him to pass the phone to her. She answered jokingly thinking that it was one of his friends, but suddenly was filled with shock and dismay when she recognized my voice.
She accusingly went on the offensive asking me how I'd gotten the number and yelling at me for being so suspicious. She hung up and then wouldn't answer either his phone or hers for the rest of the night. I continued to drink myself into a rage before compiling all of the texts and associated phone numbers in a Word file. I then added all of the texts she had sent me and pictures from overseas trips we had taken together that were slightly risque but proved beyond all doubt that we were actually engaged in an intimate relationship. I wrote her a harsh e-mail about how her betrayal was duplicitous and willfully cruel in nature and that she was worse than any streetwalker because at least all parties knew all of the transactional costs of the relationship.
She had met my mother, she had been a bridesmaid at another boyfriend's little sister's wedding, and was discussing what furniture to buy after she got married to yet another boyfriend. I compiled all of this information and sent it to her, making sure to CC every person on her messenger list. All 70 of them. Her mother, father, sister, brother, friends, acquaintances, coworkers, and all five boyfriends, who had sent her texts that day.
She became an urban legend among her friends. However, she was forced to retreat from social life, to cancel her phone, and to close all of her SNS and messenger accounts, out of shame. I heard later that it became so bad that her parents had sent her overseas. I got phone calls from the other boyfriends the next day requesting a meet-up. Four of the five of us got together over drinks to compare notes, text messages, and dates/schedules confirming that everything I had discovered was true. I vomited and shook with rage when I discovered what she was doing, but in retrospect, I am still amazed at how fully she was able to manipulate and maintain five different, serious, and long-term relationships simultaneously. The complexity astounds me. It's almost worthy of a Baxter meme if I weren't still so furious.
I was worried for a time about legal ramifications because we lived in a country (South Korea) where slander/ defamation laws can be applied severely (even in cases where the slander is true), but I never really regretted what I did. If I spared at least one other man the heartache, rage, and trust issues I experience then it was worth it."