Whether it's terrible roommates, horrible classmates, mean friends, or obnoxious strangers, there is nothing in this world better than getting sweet revenge on people that have wronged you. The sooner the better too!
These are those stories. From the guy that got beat up by an old friend to the obnoxious neighbors that won't stop partying downstairs, these are amazing examples of how to get back at the people that make your life miserable, making their life as miserable or worse!
"In college, during our 100 multiple choice law exam, I wrote all my answers on the original exam page and colored in wrong answers on the scantron sheet.
You see, there was a girl who copied me since day 1 and thought she was going to pass this exam, worth 30% of our final grade, the same way. She looked over at me and copied almost every one of my scantron answer, then guessed a few, handed it in, and left for the winter break.
I erased all my old answers, filled the correct answers in, handed it in, and left.
I got 71/100 and still barely managed to pass that class. She obviously, did not pass."
"I was driving home around 2 in the morning. There are two cars ahead of me, one is clearly giving the other car a hard time - tailgating him, cutting him off, windows open and he's yelling at the other guy. I catch up at the light and see a scared older man (70+) getting verbally cussed out by this obnoxious kid. Now, I'm totally sober and I know that cops hang out in the back of the parking lot at my work.
I get the punk's attention and he starts harassing me. One mile to go to my work. He's cussing at me, trying to cut me off the whole time.
I pull into the parking lot, he follows. Whip down to the back and yep, there's the cop! His party lights come on. Both of us get pulled over.
The other guy is screaming and I only have to explain for 30 seconds what happened. I leave the scene like I did my good deed for the day."
"Years ago, I was living in an apartment in Johannesburg. The block consisted mostly of elderly folk and a few young working couples like me and my wife, who generally hit the sack early. The place was like a morgue after 10 pm.
Until a couple of guys move into the place below us. Party types, who would whoop it up till dawn. If anyone complained, they'd quickly get threatening. The owner of the apartment was one of the guys' dad, so they had no fear of being kicked out.
One evening, around midnight, they hooked up with some mates and girls to go clubbing. They were outside in the road, talking, yelling, girls screeching. Just bedlam. Eventually, they depart. I was furious, but being the original 90-pound wimp, I felt helpless. Then I remembered the tube of superglue in my desk drawer. I went to their flat, which had a serious security gate protecting the front door. I put the glue nozzle into the gate lock - a heavy duty bolt lock - and squeezed the sucker dry. A couple of hours later, as I was lying in bed, I hear the guys arrive back. It was the same deal as when they left. They were making a heck of a commotion as they spilled out their cars and head for the apartment. Then silence. Later I heard they ended up breaking a window and getting in that way.
The girlfriends, of course, were having none of it so they buggered off, as did the mates. The next day they had to get in a locksmith who used a blowtorch to cut the lock out of its steel casing. This damaged the door behind it, so both gate and door had to be replaced, along with the bathroom window. Because these boneheads did not have the money for all this, the dad who owned the apartment had to cough it up.
He was so ticked off that he kicked out the roommate. From then on, it was the quietest flat in the building."
"I'm a professor.
Many years ago, I had a small cluster of students in one course that I strongly suspected were cheating; scattered evidence suggested that they had knowledge of my test content ahead of time. I don't let my students keep their test copies, and I re-write my tests every semester, so this was puzzling. I determined that the most likely way they were cheating was during the photocopying process, so I set out to test that possibility first.
When the next test in the course was getting close, I left the previous semester's version of the test in the photocopy room as bait. I then rewrote the new version of the test, keeping page 1 the same to avoid raising suspicions on test day but otherwise completely revising the questions. I made the new copies on another department's copier the morning of the test.
Sure enough, when I graded the test I found that my cheaters all had perfect scores on the page 1 questions, but then bombed all subsequent questions to varying degrees. They all went from As on the first two tests to Ds and Fs on this test. Those patterns alone probably wouldn't be enough evidence for an airtight academic integrity charge, but one of them gave up the whole group and the plan when I called her in to confront her with the test copies. It turns out they had access to my department's copy room from a former student worker and would routinely pop in and steal exams in the to-be-copied pile after hours.
In the end, it caused a big disciplinary fuss in the administration with F grades for the students, plus multiple suspensions, and one expulsion, which is a true rarity given how nervous universities are about kicking out students.
The cheaters were hoisted by their own petard and I got what passes for professorly street cred among my peers for catching a well-organized group that many others had missed."
"In 4th-grade gym, I discovered heartbreak, revenge, and victory all in one class period.
Moments before class had started my 'boyfriend' dumped me because I was too weird. There I sat in disbelief and sadness, and he just ran around like nothing had happened. We were put on opposite teams, only making the chasm between us greater.
Now, I am possibly the worst person at sports, wiffleball being no exception, which is what we were playing that day.
I stepped up to the orange rubber plate, the bat heavy in my hands. My ex was pitching and called out to everyone in the outfield
'Don't worry about this one, she can't hit anything.'
I was embarrassed. I was heartbroken. Mostly, I was ticked off. I said nothing, watching as he casually cocked back his arm. His eyes gleamed as the ball flew from his grip, careening towards me. I raised my bat and swung with all of my measly strength. The whiffle ball met my bat with a dull, plastic WHACK. Next, the whiffle ball met my ex's balls, square on. I watched as he crumpled to the floor, a wailing heap. My team cheered for me as I ran around the bases, greeting me with high fives as I cleared home.
It was beautiful."
"For ten months I had the worst roommate ever.
He was a 40-year-old guy who acted like he was 21. His parents supported him and paid for his condo, from which I rented a room in with no lease. As such, I had no tenant rights which he took advantage of. He was loud, constantly wasted and/or high, and loved yelling racial obscenities at the TV daily. He was constantly forcing me to listen to his rants about things he had no real knowledge about. This guy was the most spoiled, entitled, inconsiderate, narcissistic person I have ever met.
The day I was supposed to move out, he was passed out from a days-long bender. I moved all of my stuff into the truck and was driving off when it hit me: there was a possum carcass on the side of the road near the condo. I went back up, grabbed his BBQ tongs and a bag, and picked up that carcass. I walked back up again, went in, opened the door to his room, and whipped that carcass onto his bed, then walked out of that place for the last time. He never even stirred as the dead possum, rotting and baked by the sun, landed next to him with a sickening plop.
He deserves worse, actually, but I did what I could."
"I was in the Navy.
I was in Basic Enlisted Submarine School with shared barrack rooms. I had two roommates who, for a lack of a better term, sucked. They were dirty, they never cleaned and they just smelled bad all the time. Oh, and also they NEVER woke up on time for anything.
Every week during room inspections we failed. Terribly. I ended up getting so annoyed with them because we started to get into a lot of trouble that I plotted the revenge to show the inspectors that it wasn't me and it was my two soil-sack roommates. Every 4 or so days everyone stood duty. One weeknight, I had duty and I waited for the exact time that I was a roving watchstander in the barracks to pull off the trickery.
I peed in a Ziploc baggy and placed it in my friend's freezer prior to my watch and there I had it, a sheet of urine ice.
I walked up to my room an hour before inspection, knowing my idiot roommates wouldn't be up, and slid this sheet of urine-ice under the door into the middle of the room. And you may ask why I didn't just open the door as it was my room? Because I didn't want to take the chance of waking one of them up during my covert operation.
The inspectors came around and sure enough, oops, I forgot to wake up my roommates like I did everyone else on the floor. Amidst the chaos of the inspector banging on the door, them trying to get dressed and them both very confused and shuffling through the urine, all heck broke loose. The inspector had those morons standing at attention leaning over to smell the huge puddle and realizing it was urine in the middle of the floor. The face he made when he made that realization was something I will never forget. He lost it.
Those two got in a ton of trouble and since I was on watch they lifted all punishment on me, finally realizing it was them the whole time. I don't feel guilty at all. I never did, I never will."
"In 8th grade, I was hanging with two of my friends at the local high school.
We had just finished playing a pickup game of football. As we were walking to the bathrooms I saw who I thought was a friend and said 'Hey man! What's up!?' We had played Pop Warner together for years so I knew him. He came out acting really tough and strange though. Then about 7 other black dudes came out with him. I guess he joined a gang over the summer. They proceeded to jump me and beat the crap out of me while the friends I was with just stood there and watched.
It was a long bloody walk home that I will never forget.
Soon, football season came around and look who is on my team, the guy that jumped me with his friends. We get paired together in a drill where one person holds the football. The coach blew the whistle and I've never run so hard in my life. I hit the SNOT out of him, to the point I cracked his helmet and he cried like a little brat.
I stood over him and said, 'Where's your gang now?'
He showed me mad respect after that and never said a word to me. To this day I still think about how awesome it felt."
"I used to go to a public high school where the majority of students were low to middle-class Italian-origin kids of immigrants - like 95% of them. It was tough going, to say the least.
When I was in high school I used to get bullied by a guy called Renaldo. We'd had a few scraps, either verbally or physically over the years. I was always the type of guy who wouldn't take other people's nonsense and while others balked at giving me a hard time, particularly when I went through puberty and became one of the tallest, largest guys in school, he somehow always managed to give me a hard time.
As luck would have me, Renaldo ended up in the same college I went to and he always managed to somehow, someway, be a little snot to me. What made things worse is that we fell for the same girl, Andrea, who eventually became my girlfriend of over 4 years. Everyone knew he had feelings for her and that it killed him she was with me and not him. He always tried to 'seduce' her with random calls and emails. Being the son of a wealthy father who owned his own construction company, he had nice cars, lots of money, a bunch of stuff that I didn't have and over the years worked hard to earn, coming from a low-income family that was having problems making ends meet.
He was a constant issue the first year of my relationship and we had several conflicts,
Years later, after college and shortly after I broke up with Andrea, I received an e-mail from him out of the blue. I never corresponded with him (Facebook didn't exist back then), but he told me off in an epic letter which went far too long, swore at me in excess and used terrible English (no wonder he never finished college and dropped out to work with daddy). Basically, it was 'No one liked me in college and bugger off.'
I hadn't seen him in well over 2 years, nor did we have any real friends in common. As a way of keeping my cool, nor did I want him to have the satisfaction to get me mad, I never responded to his emails (he sent several).
However, I couldn't let his taunting go without consequences.
So I went online and Googled his name. After searching around a bit I easily found a complete profile of him regarding his career, where he worked and what type of work it was. His father passed away recently and he now owned his father's business and had a team of employees working for him. I spied a bit more and hung onto the address of his place of employment for several weeks while I plotted.
One day, I proceeded to go into a local adult shop and I purchased the largest, fattest, floppiest adult toy that I could find along with some KY and I went home, wrote a special note for him and put it, along with the big fat adult toy and KY, in a standard box that couldn't be traced back to me and sent it priority mail that required for him specifically to sign.
The note read, 'Since you have so much time to search out people that never gave a crap about you, to begin with, I figured you'd have enough time to go stick yourself with this!'
One of our mutual acquaintances dropped me an email a few days later. This acquaintance worked for Renaldo during his internship and said the package arrived while they were preparing to head out for a team lunch on a Friday. Apparently he was very excited to get the box opened since he thought it was something he ordered online that he was expecting and would 'make it a good weekend,' so he opened it in front of a number of co-workers and instead of whatever he ordered he pulls out....a giant, floppy, adult toy.
"I was at a house party with some friends in like, 2009. I don't quite remember, exactly, but I was hammered.
People were taking turns on the pong table like you do, and this super trashy looking, wasted broad comes in and demands that we start playing flip cup, which is the most idiotic game of all time. Nobody paid any attention to her demand so she went around in a circle and pointed right in the face of everyone at the table, in turn, saying 'you're a wimp, you're a wimp, you're a wimp, and you're a wimp!' We later learned that this chick had done her first adult film that week and thought she was hot news and had been acting like a primadonna for days.
My friend was playing pong at the time, and he's a nice fella, so he says something to the tune of 'There's a few people waiting for pong still. Can you wait like fifteen or twenty minutes?' She SLAPS him in the face.
He yells, 'what the heck is wrong with you?' She is streaming curses at him and goes to get her boyfriend. One of the guys on the table pulls me and my friend outside and tells us to just chill for a few minutes, that this girls boyfriend is jacked that lives at the house we're at and he'll probably beat the crap out of us and throw us out of the party.
So while we're 'cooling off,' I see my opportunity. I climb into the empty kitchen through a window and take a leak into the half-full gallon jug of orange juice on the table, then climb back out the window.
What happens next? This trashy chick walks into the kitchen with her boyfriend who is FUMING, pours herself a screwdriver, and downs it.
Me and my buddy took two unopened twelve packs from the patio and bailed."
"So my grandfather was driving and an obviously wasted man threw a rock and shattered his windshield.
My grandfather stopped and talked to him and told him 'If you give me your real number, I'll only have you pay for half of the windshield.' Of course, the guy gave him a fake number.
A year later, my grandfather picks up a guy from Park and Ride (carpooling) and it happens to be the man that shattered his windshield. They're driving on the freeway and the guy doesn't recognize him. He's being rude and talking on his phone. My grandpa asks to see his phone, takes it, and throws it out the window.
The guy freaks out and my grandpa goes 'Remember me?' Then made him get out of the car."
"I like to get revenge by making all of a person's dreams come true without them.
Once I dated a girl who told me about all of these life goals she had. Go on a road trip with no predetermined destination, go night swimming in a lake in the middle of nowhere, etc etc. Whenever I suggested we go do one of those things she had an argument that is was not sensible at the moment but would be when she finished school, secured a job, and so on.
She dumped me, and I got my revenge by doing all those things as dates with other women. To my knowledge, she has still done none of them.
I don't go out of my way to tell them to her. I feel like that would cheapen it. 'Hey so listen, look how awesome my life is now' would elicit a sort of 'Wow what a pathetic idiot that needs my validation for his awesome life' response.
But I don't hide it either, and if she finds out, she feels like crap. If not, I just continue feeling awesome
Another time, I was working in student life at a university when I butt heads with one of the other program directors who was very demanding with his participants. Show up at X time and do not leave your seats until I say, and so on. When students complained, I tried to talk to him about it and he basically told me I had no idea what I was talking about, I had no seniority, and I should leave his students alone.
So I just started another program which became successful and made his redundant. Them I got promoted ahead of him.
Why would you take revenge that makes the world worse for someone else, when you can make it better for yourself?"
"My friend Roman had just bought a brand new shiny bike.
We were taking it for a spin around the neighborhood and stopped off at my girlfriend's house. We left the bikes on her front porch and went inside.
Not 5 minutes later we went outside and my friend's new bike was missing. We promptly hop in my car and start to search town for the bike.
After about an hour we were giving up and thought we'd better check the central bus station one last time. Sure enough, there was a 16-year-old with my buddy's bike with the stickers already removed. We pulled over and confronted him. He said he found the bike in a ditch and promptly handed it back.
I was putting the bike in the car while my friend fumed and looked this kid up and down. Time for revenge. Right as we're about to head out he yells 'Give me the freaking jacket!' He made the kid give him the jacket he was wearing as punishment for stealing the bike. We ended up finding lipstick. a camera with some unusual selfies, and other random things in the pockets.
It was a nice rugged Carhartt jacket, to this day my friend still uses it."
"There was a teacher that I hated in middle school and he hated me just as much.
One day I noticed that one of the magazines in our classroom had his address on it. I wrote it down and waited until summer vacation, so it would be less suspicious.
I went to Borders and got a bunch of magazine subscription inserts and had a close friend who went to another school fill them out with my teacher's information. I checked the 'bill me later' and sent them out.
When I got back to school the next year, I could tell he suspected me but couldn't prove it and I was happy because I didn't have any classes with him anymore."
"Very petty, but a major victory for me.
In elementary school (1st - 7th grade where I live), I was bullied by this girl.
I was tiny, red-headed, I had braces and glasses, with low self-esteem, so of course, I was a target. She was just big and entitled. She gave me numerous concussions and loose teeth and some emotional scars which made me apply for a secondary school in another district.
I went on to be accepted into one of the more prestigious public high schools in my area.
I met her again one day at the end of the second year. She had put on a ton of weight and was on her way home to her parent's house with four fast food bags in hand. I was out jogging, at my skinniest, that day.
My revenge was being nice to her. She had failed everything, and could only get into the lowest priority high school. I was in the highest priority. She had gained so much weight, and I was skinny and felt beautiful. She bought pounds of fast food, and I was out running. And I was so nice and compassionate. All those years of bullying... I just felt sorry for her."