Revenge can be pretty and revenge can be sweet, but sometimes getting even is nothing more than a poor example of pettiness. Our plans for revenge often sound better in our heads than they do when put into action, but when we find ourselves in those situations, all we can do is stay committed and see it through.
A Reddit thread recently asked people to share their most stories of petty revenge, and while each of these stories is nothing but petty, the people sharing them still find a great deal of pleasure in their plans. Take a look at some of the most ridiculous stories from the bunch. All posts have been edited for clarity.
"When I was a kid, I had a bed wetting problem. I am not ashamed of this now, as thousands of other kids have had the same problems. At the time, however, this was humiliating. My younger brother started telling other kids around school how extensive the issue was. I was mortified.
Even after our mother told him to knock it off, he continued. So I decided to level the playing field. The whole 'hand in cup of warm water' deal didn't work. I stood over him as he slept one night and peed on him. I'm a lady... It was no easy feat. The next morning, my mom was horrified and wound up taking a call from my grandmother.
'I don't know what to do, now BOTH of them are peeing the bed,' she explained, clearly frustrated.
After a few more times of 'framing' my brother as a bed wetter, he completely stopped using my embarrassing problem as entertainment."
"A guy in my town asked me out on a date, I had a wonderful first, and then second date with him. On the third date, we slept together, and then like a charm, he was gone. It made me mad, but it was all so fast that I understood why.
Four months later, he randomly contacted me and wanted to meet up again. On the day that he contacted me, I was in a particularly bad mood and I was very frustrated with men in general. I happily told him I would meet him for a drink, and then I called one of my guy friends, who happens to be a pretty big/intimidating looking guy.
So I showed up at the bar and sat down with guy who ditched me after our third date. It was awkward and obvious to me that he just wanted to get a few drinks in me so he could hook up with me. After about 10 minutes, my friend sent a drink down the bar to me. I acted completely surprised and waved at my friend. The jerk got really quiet like he didn't know what to do and my friend walked over to me at the bar, touched my forearm, looked me straight in the eye and said, 'Hey cutie, what's your name?'
I told him, and continued to act surprised and had this deer-in-the-headlights smile plastered on my face. My friend then asked me if I wanted to 'Get out of here.' I said, 'Sure' and just hopped up and left with him, leaving the jerk sputtering at the bar."
"My friend Sara came from a tiny town in Texas, her class had like 18 kids total. She was extremely smart but shy, so she made a great target for ALL the other students. One week, the girls were saying that she smelled bad and she needed to learn how to properly bathe. One Sunday, as she was walking to the diner in town, the girls drove by in a truck and dumped cow manure on her. Needless to say, she was extremely unhappy.
Monday came around and she was in gym class. The teacher dismissed the girls telling them to go shower but asked Sara to stay behind to talk to her. The teacher was telling her things would get better and that the best way to escape bullies is to get awesome grades so that she would have universities begging her to attend school there.
Sara was listening to the teacher when she saw movement out of the corner out of her eye. She glanced and saw a what she thought was a cat from the property next door going into the girls locker room. A huge gust of wind blew the door shut. A few seconds later you could hear screams coming from the girls locker room. The bell sounded and the teacher told Sara to go home quickly. Sara ran to a tree and climbed it and watched as the teacher opened the door and a skunk, not a cat ran out. Every girl in the class had been hit by the skunk.
Sara said that when she realized what had happened, she looked up towards the sky and said 'Thank You!'"
"For my first wedding, my fiancée and I got married six months after our engagement to get things just right. Music for the reception was very important to both of us, so we met with a few DJs, choosing one who was a little older than us but seemed cool and had all of the music we wanted. We made lists, had everything all set, gave him his $150 deposit. We moved in together about three months prior to the wedding and got our new phone number out to everyone, including the DJ, which was a good opportunity to make sure we were still all set. Yep, no worries, he said.
Our wedding day was a Saturday. We came back from the rehearsal dinner Friday night to find a message on our phone. It was him, telling us that his sister had gotten married and put together a reception last-minute, and that he felt like he needed to DJ for her. Don't worry, he said, he would send a guy who would do a great job and that he still had all of our music, so we shouldn't worry.
Well, the guy he sent was around 18 years old, didn't have our music, and had never seen our list, so we had a reception without any meaningful music for the two of us and our friends. Then the jerk threatened to take us to small claims over the remaining $250 of his fee, harassed us over the phone for a few weeks, and I'm pretty sure slashed the tires of my car one night.
We lived in that town for about five more years. My wife's career ended up taking us out of state. My job was real estate title researcher. Before we left, I checked public records to be sure he was the homeowner of the place where we had met with him, and the night before we left town, I drove past his house and emptied about ten shots from a red rider through the antique leaded glass windows facing the street."
"I used to go to a public high school where the majority of students were low to middle class Italian immigrants. Tough going to say the least. When I was in high school, I used to get bullied by a guy called Renaldo. We had a few scraps, either verbally or fisticuffs over the years. I was always the type of guy who wouldn’t take other people’s crap 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. It was a tough time, but in a way, I paid my dues early and learned from a stern father that if people punched you, you punch back and you punch harder and you'll know if they are men or not.
As luck would have it, Renaldo ended up in the same college as me and he always managed to somehow, someway, be a little prick to me. What made things worse is that we fell for the same girl, Andrea, who eventually became my girlfriend of over four 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, that 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 and he went out and told me in an epic letter which went far too long, swore at me in excess and used terrible English. Basically, he said that no one liked me in college and wanted me to get lost.
I haven’t seen him in well over two years, nor did we have any real friends in common. As a way of keeping my cool, I never responded to his multiple emails. However, I couldn't let his taunting go without consequences.
So I 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 went to a local intimate shop and purchased the largest, fattest, floppiest black adult toy that I could find along with some lubricant and went home, wrote a special note for him, and boxed it all up it in a standard box that couldn’t be traced back to me. I think sent it all priority mail, so he was required to sign for it.
The note read, 'Since you have so much time to search out people that never cared about you to begin with, I figured you'd have enough time to go have fun with this!'
One of our mutual acquaintances dropped me an email a few days later saying that the package showed up while they were preparing to head out for a team lunch one Friday at work. Renaldo was excited to get box opened since he thought it was something he ordered online that he was expecting and would 'make it a good weekend' and he opened it in front of a number of co-workers, but instead of whatever he ordered, he pulled out....a giant black floppy adult toy.
It was priceless."
"I was eating at a Mexican restaurant with my young, autistic cousin. She has a hard time going in public, but I was trying to be nice and take her to eat and go see Dolphin Tale. There was a table next to us that was on their second or third pitcher for margaritas, and they were being very loud and crude.
It was making my little cousin noticeably uncomfortable, so I walked over to the table and very politely tried to explain the situation. Before I could even finish, one of them dumped his water all over my feet and went back to talking like I had never been there. I got mad, but didn't fight back.
Before I walked back to my table, I noticed that there wasn't a sober driver in the group. I left my cousin with my sister, stepped outside, and called my friend in town who is a cop. I explained the situation to him, told him what they were wearing, and got his help.
They left the same time we did, and all piled up in a white SUV with the water dumping jerk as the driver. As soon as the car moved in reverse, my friend flew around the corner, put his lights on, and asked the driver to step out. The driver got arrested for drinking and driving and his license was suspended for a year. The rest of the car got charged with drinking in public."
"When my brother was 9 or 10, we got in to a fight where he was calling me a 'gay lesbian.' I explained to my brother that since I'm male, I couldn't be a lesbian. Then I remarked that since lesbians like women, and I like women, it wasn't terribly insulting. While trying to explain to him that this wasn't really an insult, he remained quite adamant upon the subject.
So I told him he wasn't one to talk as he didn't know if he is gay or not. Looking at me perplexed, I explained to him that until he hit puberty at age 13, he wouldn't know where his desires lay and as such he may very well be gay himself.
Me being the smart and wise older brother, he totally believed me and spent the next three years under the impression he could turn gay any minute. It wasn't until he was actually 13 that he learned I was just messing with his head."
"There's a bar at the end of my street, and my mom liked to go there to watch people play pool. She didn't drink, she would just sit there and watch and drink Diet Coke. Apparently, she struck up a conversation with one of the guys one day, and he kissed her on the cheek and then played a great game of pool. So after that, he'd kiss her on the cheek before he played pool.
For some reason, the guy who ran the bar accused my mom of being a street walker and banned her from the bar. Mind you, my mom was a sweet, 300-pound, 50-year-old lady who worked as an engineer and dressed like she was going to work. There was nothing about her that would make you think she was in that line of work.
I got revenge on this guy several times over the years. My go-to was making big pizza orders and then never going to pick them up.
One time, my friends and I went to that bar, and my friend whipped his junk out and peed all over their bar and floor. On a Friday night with the place nearly packed.
My favorite though was this one Saturday night. On Saturdays, they had biker night, the place was packed, and they always had the jukebox blaring. I put a $10 bill in the jukebox and played the Backstreet Boys son 'I Want It That Way' 40 times in a row.
When I was in college, I was on a road trip and I saw a Canadian bar chain with the same name and logo. I looked it up when I got home and sure enough, that bar chain had been in business for longer than the bar had been using that name and logo in the US. So I emailed the chain with pictures of the bar and all the info for the bar. They emailed me back to thank me and forwarded it to the legal department. Six months later, the bar had a new owner and a new name."
"I was driving on a side street with a speed limit of 40 mph but there are a lot of school zones, so it is frequently 25 mph, and there was a crazy driver coming up behind me , weaving through traffic, speeding, ignoring school zones, and just being a terrible driver, all in all.
I was driving next to a truck, and I looked over at him, he nodded his head, and I did the same, and when this jerk came up behind us, we went the same speed until we hit the highway, so for about five miles. The idiot behind us was raging in the mirror and weaving back and forth. Looking back, I feel bad now, but we have had a lot of accidents lately where people are ignoring the school zones and kids have been hit crossing the street. With that being said, I didn't feel that bad.
Another time, I was dating a guy who was about seven years older than me, and we had a good relationship going. All of the sudden, he quit talking to me out of the blue, and I had no idea what was going on. I finally just texted him to see if I could get the stuff I left at his house but still got no response. The next week, his Myspace status changed to 'in a relationship.' Ok... well, crap. I ended up not getting my stuff back, and was pretty ticked off about it, so I waited a couple of weeks, and at around 5 pm on the Friday of Labor day weekend, I told him I had 'something' and he needed to get himself checked. He responded wanting to know more, but I didn't answer him. I didn't have anything. I just wanted him to squirm."
"When I was in kindergarten, I had a really small class. One day our teacher was away sick so we were just dumped in the first grade class, which had like 30 kids. They were all getting their work checked when I realized I needed to go to the restroom. I went to stand beside the teacher and said, 'Excuse me, Miss, but may I please go to the toilet?'
She said, to a 4-YEAR-OLD, 'No, you have to go to the back of the line, line up and ask me properly.'
The concept of standing up while 30 children got their work checked that was mildly concerning while I was busting, but how much more concerning was 'Properly?' HOW was I improper the first time?
So I sat back down. The line did not get shorter as the kids would go back correct their work and join the line again, so I decided to ask again. I returned to the teacher and said, 'Excuse me, I am very desperate, may I please be excused to go to...'
Before I could even finish my request, she yelled, 'I SAID NO! GO BACK TO THE END OF THE LINE AND WAIT!'
I had never been yelled at my a teacher so I went to my desk and started to cry. Then I was overwhelmed by rage. I was FOUR! The bathroom was attached to the classroom. It was a mere 10 paces from the teacher's desk. I started to march towards the toilet, determined I would not suffer the indignity of peeing my pants. Just as I had my hand on the door to push it open, I heard, 'IF YOU LEAVE THIS ROOM, YOU WILL BE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE YOUR HEAD WILL SPIN! SIT DOWN!!'
So I sat down. I then turned to my friend and said, 'Watch this,' and peed my pants.
The lunch bell rang about five minutes later. I went to the uniform shop and put a whole new uniform on my account and went to the school pool and showered my lower half.
The perfect crime: I peed my pants to exert revenge.
I took great satisfaction when all the kindergarteners were made to stand up to check who was wet while she mopped up my mess.
I was eventually figured out because I had a soaked uniform in my bag and was the only one attempting to go to the bathroom with such vigor!
My parents were called in and they abused the crap out of the teacher for not letting a 4-year-old go to the bathroom."
"I used to work at Best Buy in Geek Squad and usually the people working the closing shifts had to clean up their departments and such. We had just gotten a new manager who was an outside hire from Circuit City. He was trying to be tough and flex his management powers by being a meticulous tyrant about cleaning during closing duties asking stuff like, 'Did you clean UNDER the registers and Windex and dust,' about every little thing.
A buddy of mine I was working with and I started our closing duties a little early since the store was pretty dead that night in order to be able to leave at a reasonable hour. We pretty much wrapped up 15 minutes after the store closed so we got the manager to do a walkthrough so we could leave. He was looking around and everything seemed to be in order until he looked behind some signage on a shelf and ran his finger across it, picking up some dust. He had this evil grin on his face and let out a little weaselly laugh and said, 'Looks like you guys still have some work to do.' My buddy and I looked at each other and we both just knew what had to be done. We cleaned the entire department top to bottom, inside and out. Every drawer was emptied, dusted, wiped down, brochures organized. Every computer in the back was moved and the shelves were dusted and wiped, floors were vacuumed twice, top stock was neatly arranged, every inch of the department was gone over with a fine tooth comb, twice in some spots just to take longer.
Well, 10 pm turned into midnight, everyone else was long gone except for us three. The manager was looking weary and tired. Midnight turned into 2 am and we were still going at it when he finally came out of the office, red eyed and exhausted, and said, 'Guys, let's go.'
'But we still haven't dusted under the counters and...'
'It's fine, let's go.'
My buddy and I took our sweet time gathering our things and clocking out. We both were also off the next day and the manager had to be in early for a conference call so it made it all that much better. Every time he was the closing manager after that night, he never gave us trouble again, simply asking us if we were ready to go when the store closed. Justice prevails."
"About 15 years ago, I used to go into a Starbucks around the corner from my then boyfriend's house. I went in grudgingly because it was very busy and touristy AND there was one particular 'barista' that enraged me. He was the most self-righteous, put-out, indignant, huffy little brat to ever stand behind a coffee machine. Boston is lousy with philosophy spewing undergrads and he was their self-appointed king.
So one morning, I walked in this Starbucks in a particularly bad mood. As I was waiting for my tea, the guy launched into some overwrought drama with a coworker and I said, 'Listen, dude, can I have my drink before this gets worse?' He lost it on me: yelling, blaming, using big words... the whole victim shebang. In the end, he kicked me out and told me to never come back again.
A few weeks later, in a different Starbucks, I noticed that they had begun to use stamp cards. So as I was leaving, I swiped the official Starbucks stamp from the counter... and stamped HUNDREDS of cards that summer. I was the summer intern for a company and made sure that not one person in that office ever paid for coffee. I stamped so much that I had to purchase a green stamp pad expressly for the Starbucks stamp.
Treat me badly and I'll steal your stamp. It's really the little victories in this life."
"In the eighth grade, I was being picked on by a snotty brat. Around the end of the year, he bothered me all period in math and I couldn't do anything about it. My teacher handed out our last assignment. I saw him put his on his desk and walk away. So, stealthily, I got up and took the worksheet from his desk and hid it.
This kid was not the best student ever, around an average D in terms of grades. He showed up next class and informed the teacher that he didn't have the homework. He got a zero on the assignment, dropped him to a F and made him retake the eighth grade. I felt awesome."