There is nothing more frustrating than dealing with idiots and
These hilariously and satisfying stories will get you pumped up for the satisfying revenge these people were able to extract from people that messed with them first. Roommates, coworkers, clients, family members and customers all get the revenge treatment here and it's safe to say they all richly deserved it and satisfaction is guaranteed!
"When I was 11 years old, I was bullied by a 12-year-old boy. He would steal things from my lunch every day.
I got sick of it and decided to do something about it. One day, I brought a super hot pepper in my lunch and pretended to be really excited about it. Sure enough, the boy comes over, snatches it from my hand and pops it in his mouth.
He practically exploded in pain. Writhing around the floor, unable to handle the heat.
I calmly looked at him and told him that drinking a nice glass of cold water would help immensely. He did so. This promptly magnified the pain 100x.
He never stole food from me again.
I regret nothing."
"While I was driving to drop someone off, my radar detector went off. I saw a cop sitting in a parking lot as I passed.
I dropped off my friend and headed back. The whole way there was some jerk is tailgating me. The speed limit's 40, I'm doing 45 and he's so close I can't see his headlights.
We come up to a traffic circle and he tries to pass me on the right. I sped up and he kept trying. We hit about 80-90 with him on the shoulder. As we come up to the crest of a hill and I know the cop is right on the other side. I hit the brakes and he flew up over the hill, had to be doing 90 in a 40.
I even stopped to let the cop out of the parking lot. MOST. SATISFYING. THING. EVER."
"My first 'real' boyfriend (we kissed instead of just holding hands) kissed another girl and dumped me for her when I was a freshman in high school. She had actively pursued him although she knew he had a girlfriend, so I blamed her rather than him.
Fast forward four years: I was a volleyball player throughout college. In the off-season, I played in a city women's league and a co-ed league as an outside hitter. My team played a new team with a familiar face on it. She didn't recognize me, but I immediately recognized her. My team's setter kept giving me amazing sets and I kept slamming the ball over the net, just waiting for my shot. Finally, she was in the back row and my setter set me up. I hit the ball and the boyfriend stealer stepped into the hit. It bounced off her foot and went straight up into her face...and broke her nose.
I never told her why. I guess I was more concerned with just causing her some pain at the time. For some reason, it never occurred to me that I should tell her why. I just acted concerned and then apologized, "
"This may seem small, but it was the most satisfying thing I have ever done.
When I was in the seventh grade, I sat behind a jerk who hated me and enjoyed being annoying. Every single day, he would lean back in his chair and hit the front of my desk, over and ever again. If I was trying to write something, he would do it even harder. So one day I decided enough was enough. In the middle of a lesson, he started again.
I waited and right as he was leaning his chair back fast, trying to knock my desk hard, I pulled it back. Without my desk behind him, his chair tipped right over and he hit the ground, hard. I can still clearly remember him whispering 'you witch' beneath the laughter of the whole class and the teacher yelling at him to get up. The look on his face was a mixture of shock, embarrassment and pure rage as he looked up at me from the floor.
The jerk never messed with me again."
"A crappy repair shop in Moab, UT messed up our car which left us stranded in a nearby National Park. Arches Repair is the shop that ripped us off. You know, getting to tell the story here - and the chance that it might cost those clowns more business - is really the icing on the cake!
We called and demanded they tow the vehicle in, and while they said they'd come get us, they never did. When we talked with park rangers they were quite familiar with the shop. They said it was the biggest in town, but with a terrible reputation.
We were on our honeymoon and had more time on our hands than I imagine most travelers do. We went to the shop, demanded a full refund, and when they refused we sat out front on the curb in our camp chairs for two days with homemade protest signs. I was overwhelmed with the support we got from locals, who honked and waved, stopped and chatted with us and shared their own stories of horror. The owner called the cops on us, but the joke was on him! We'd already notified the police we'd be protesting and were well within our rights in doing so. As long as you're not on their property, obstructing entrances/exits, or shouting people on the property...you're golden.
It had never occurred to me before that incident, to protest a business. I think most people are inherently mistrustful of mechanics, so our sitting there with signs was very, very effective. It cost them a weekends' worth of business in peak season, the jerks.
In the end, the shop owner refunded all our money and left visibly distressed when we told him that even with the refund, we weren't sure we were ready to leave town. Eventually we did, but not before filing complaints with the Better Business Bureau and every review site we could find. They'd already been booted from the Chamber of Commerce.
We ended up becoming friends with an awesome local mechanic, and having a great story to tell. Justice was served! And without a tinge of guilt."
"Okay. I have two older brothers. Eldest is a good person. The middle is a monster. He is a speed-addled felon. He has tortured my family for 20 years and I have taken the brunt of the assault as the only person willing to openly challenge him.
He stole my mother's wedding rings, my grandmother's car, and my TV - to name a few things. My family has decided to try again to welcome him back into their lives so I followed suit.
It's Christmas 2013 - best holiday celebrations I could never imagine. All is well. My middle brother walks in the door to collect presents two days after celebrations. Strike one. My middle brother drops a bag of substances when he walks in the door. Strike two. He criticizes my eldest brother's renovations and tells my grandmother she wasted her money. Strike three.
I decided to drive with my middle brother back into town together so it saves someone a trip. He asks me for my passport. I say, 'No I can't do that.' He concocts a magical story where I borrowed his ID to get into clubs back when I was a teenager. It's a lie. I did not and would not. He says he needs it to get into a party. He's 300lbs and 35 and would never be carded under any circumstances.
So he falls back to his standard method of persuasion and starts yelling and is getting increasingly loud and argumentative. I tell him that it is illegal and that it would be very bad for him if he gets caught.
There's a line somewhere between asking and demanding something of someone and he crosses it. My heart races like it used to when I was a boy, when he used to follow my friends and I and beat the crap out of us with his friends. I have good memories. I remember him pulling me out of a lake where I almost drowned. But it's not him anymore. The brother I knew is gone and there's a total stranger directly behind me demanding the symbol of my liberty. Strike freaking four. I tell him that if he mentions my passport again on the ride home, I will turn the steering wheel into a snowbank and beat him to within an inch of his life.
I hear 'Give me your passport,' in the voice of a man I don't know, from a face I don't recognize. Blood and adrenaline surge from my heart faster and more rapidly than I have ever felt. We pull into a parking lot, I open my door and wait patiently until that freaking jerk works up the courage to fight me.
He steps out and yells something I don't hear. I tell him that I'll give him one more chance to get back in the car without saying a word about my passport ever again. He says, 'Passport' with a wily grin and expects me to be the same cowering boy that I used to be. The same kid who loved him and adored him and wanted nothing else but to be just like him.
I connect the quickest and hardest fist I've ever thrown against another person directly onto his chin. Blood spurts out of his mouth with the second blow. He hits me twice above and below my right eye. I completely lose my mind and wail on the left side of his face until it is a broken and bloody ruin.
He got 9 stitches and went home with someone else.
Everyone in my family told me it was justified and had to happen. My dear old grandmother told me he had it coming.
If you're reading this, middle brother - EFF you."
"My old neighbor and I never really got along that well when we were kids. I was the first to get the original Xbox in our little three house neighborhood and he was the first to get the Xbox 360. One day, he came over and kept telling me that my Xbox was a piece of junk and that I should just break it so my parents would update it for me. We argued and it eventually got to a point where he somehow got ahold of my Xbox. Then he dropped it and plastic went everywhere. My mom heard the crash, and me, not wanting to get my neighbor into trouble (I idolized him for some reason) said I had knocked off of the tv stand. He went home and I was ticked because I'm out an Xbox.
A few months later, his family went out of town on a cruise or something and they let me care for the house (letting dogs in and out, watering plants, etc.). Realizing I had the place to myself, I grabbed his shiny new 360 and paint over the little receiver window on the front of it. After testing and confirming it doesn't work, I put it exactly back the way it was and wait for them to return.
About a week after they get back, I went over to hang out and play Xbox with him. He nearly broke down crying, saying it won't work and his parents overheard and offered to buy him a new one (they were pretty rich). He accepted and I asked if I could buy the one he has since I 'wanted to open it up to see what was inside.' He ended up just giving me the console.
Six years later, the thing still works like a dream."
"When I was nine (I'm 26 now), my parents went through a really rough divorce.
Long story short, my dad had a very public and long-term affair with a prominent public figure in our area (We'll call her Debbie.) Naturally, my mother was humiliated, but back then she was quite meek, unassuming, and not at all vindictive. She only did one thing to the woman that broke up my family.
My mom is a nurse and about six months after the divorce, she was attending a medical conference our area. As she walked into the room, she saw that one of the panelists was the woman who slept with her husband. Shocked, but always in control, my mother calmly walked to the very front of the room and sat down silently in front of Debbie.
Now, Debbie had been a family friend for over a decade, so my mom was intimately familiar with her upbringing and unfortunate issues. Remembering that she was an English Lit major in undergrad, my mom took out a red sharpie and drew a very large 'A' (for Adulter) on the notebook that she brought to the conference. She turned it around and faced it directly at Debbie, never saying a word. Debbie was visibly agitated, and when it came time for her to speak, something amazing happened: she started ticking.
You see, my mother also knew that Debbie had a condition that when under immense stress, despite significant speech therapy and experience in public speaking, she began to twitch and stutter. She twitched so much it impaired her speech, and she had to rush her portion. When she ended, my mother calmly shut her notebook, smiled at the woman, and walked out of the room. She never spoke a word. That was the last they saw of each other.
Actually, at the time, Debbie and my dad were still together and Debbie threw a fit. My dad, in turn, was really angry with my mom, but she always maintained that she just sat there nicely with her notebook."
"In high school, one of my best friends started dating my ex-boyfriend the day after we broke up, which also happened to be my 16th birthday. So then and there, I decided to ruin her sweet sixteen. I just wasn't sure how.
Fast forward three months. She planned an extravagant birthday party and played hookey from school the Friday before the big party to prepare. This was my opportunity. I told everyone at school that she had gotten the flu, and was postponing the party (hence why she wasn't in school). We were neighbors so everyone bought it.
The next day she got all dolled up, arrived at her sweet sixteen party in a large rented ballroom only to spend the entire party with her mom and little sister, not one person showed up.
Looking back, it was terrible and mean, but to a 16-year-old girl, I felt she broke sacred girl code, and that's never okay."
"I was living in a Middle Eastern country a few years back. Nice place, but because 50% of the population in the region is under the age of 20, the roads are simply overrun by teenage and early-20s jerkos. The culture's fatalism makes young guys even more reckless and irresponsible than they are already programmed to be by their hormones.
So, once, after a rare rain shower, the highway was flooded up ahead. 18 inches deep. Traffic was backed up for at least a mile and it took us 15 minutes to get to the flooded patch. Everyone was ticked. Then I saw two cars full of teenage jerks passing people on the shoulder on the right from way behind me.
There's just no excuse for that nonsense.
Eventually, they got to where I was and they passed me just as we're reaching the 50-yard stretch where the flooding was crossing the road. And wouldn't you know it? One of them crosses into the far left lane, and one stays in the right lane to avoid the deep water, in the middle lane.
And wouldn't you know it? Their windows are rolled down.
I'm in a Toyota Land Cruiser - nice big 4WD. So while they're crawling through a foot of water in their little action-boy Hondas, I decide 'eff it' and SLAM IT between them through the deep stuff in the middle lane.
The wave from my front wheels was about 6 feet high and it had to have put 20 gallons of water through the windows of both cars. Completely. freaking. Drenched. All of them. With nasty urban stormwater runoff. HAHA!
Of course, they chased up after me once they cleared the water, screaming and cursing, but I just pretended to be on my phone and ignored them. Eventually, they gave up and (I hope) figured I had just been as impatient and selfish as them and had hosed them by accident.
Most satisfying revenge of my life."
"Back in the summer of '09, My girlfriend and I were going pretty strong. Then I found out she was hooking up this guy on the side. She admitted it, said she was sorry, and I dumped her.
I didn't know the guy but I remembered his name. One night at a party a few months later, I was introduced to a guy I thought was him, I slyly worked out it was him. I'm not a guy to hold a grudge, generally, but this was something else. I didn't want to do anything to him but then I walked into a bedroom to take a phone call and there he was passed out wasted on the bed.
I didn't know what to do but I knew I had to good an opportunity to pass it up. I was pretty trashed at the time but the first thing I thought of was to take a dump on him. I passed it off as a stupid idea but I couldn't think of anything else. So I went with it. I took a dump on his chest.
I left the party just after and I haven't seen or heard from him since. Not a day goes by I don't think about it. Needless to say, I haven't told anyone about this in real life. I'm not sure but is say vengeance was a dish best served smelly."
"So my grandfather was driving and an obviously wasted man threw a rock and shattered his windshield. My grandfather talked to him and told him, 'If you give me your real number, I'll only have you pay for half of the windshield or we can figure something out.' The guy still gave him a fake number. A year later, my grandfather picked up a guy from Park & Ride (carpooling) and he happened 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 asked to see his phone, then threw it out the window. The guy freaked out and my grandpa went, 'Remember me?' He then made him get out of the car."
"I used to be a cheerleader. We were organizing a trip to Florida (from the UK) to do some training and to have an awesome holiday. I took charge of organizing the flights and asked everyone if they were OK paying me back if I bought all the flights together. Yeah I know, bad idea.
Needless to say one girl changed her mind about going because she was starting a new job and just before we were due to go, I got a handwritten note in the mail from her mother (we were in our twenties) saying that she never agreed to me booking a flight on her behalf and that she wasn't liable to pay me because she had decided not to go.
I was in a bit of a panic because I didn't have her home address and she just ignored all my calls and emails. I wanted to take her to court but to do that you have to have their address in order to serve the papers.
After spending ages trying to ask around if people knew her address, and even trying to get her friends to give it to me without success, I stayed up all night figuring out a way to figure out where she lived.
It literally took me all night but I managed to hack into her Hotmail account and then her PayPal account, which leads me to her home address. I could have just taken the money from her account, but I did want to do this as by-the-book as possible.
She turned up in court accompanied by her mother and they tried to use Facebook photos to prove that I had used her ticket to take someone else in her place. I came armed with a printout of the airline terms which clearly stated that the tickets were nontransferable.
Judgment was swift. The victory was mine."
"When I was 12 years old, a kid beat me up at a birthday party for reasons unknown. 4 years later, the kid is a pitcher (and a very good one at that) for his school in the playoffs. I was playing for the other team.
After going 0-3 to start the game, I hit a walk-off home run off of him to advance to the next round. The kid actually started crying on the mound. I don't think I've ever had a bigger smile than I did in that moment.
I still have the ball in my apartment at college."
"A few years back, my 15-year-old cousin was staying over at my place which I shared with my boyfriend at the time. Her parents were on vacation in Cuba for a few weeks. While she was with us, we had to make ALL of her food. She couldn't cook and waited for me or my boyfriend to come home, otherwise, she would only eat chips or popcorn. She wouldn't even make a sandwich.
One day, she updated her Facebook status which was a whiny complaint about how bored she was (she had free rein to go out) and how weird I was. I guess she forgot I have her on Facebook. It really ticked me off since I made all of her meals and tried my best to keep her company.
That night, when I was making her a turkey sandwich, I took my revenge. I used the end slices of the bread loaf to build the sandwich and the bitter white part of a romaine lettuce leaf. I also put too much mayo on it.
She ate that sandwich. And she had a look of annoyance on her face.
But there was nothing she could do."