Getting revenge almost always feels good, but these stories are a master class in the art of vengeance. Whether it’s giving someone who wronged them a taste of their own medicine or coming up with an entirely new way to show them karma exists, these vengeful people revealed their finest moments of revenge.
I was roommates with a guy who had his dad living with us. His dad treated me like his personal maid, making me do his washing, ironing, and cooking for him. Every time I refused, he would threaten to have me kicked out. Well, I wasn't having any of that, and I knew I had to put him in his place. So I used his toothbrush as a toilet brush and I scrubbed his clean shirts under my armpits after a long day of sweating.
I also added his bedroom floor crumbs to his bowl of dinner. When I left, I took his favorite AC/DC CD (he played almost every day on max volume) and scratched it up.
I was driving to drop someone off when my internal detector went off. I saw an officer sitting in a parking lot. I dropped off my friend and headed back. As I was driving, I noticed some jerk tailgating me. The speed limit was 40, and I was doing 45. He was so close to me that I couldn't even see his headlights. He thought he was smart, but he had no idea what I had in mind.
We came up to a traffic circle and he tried to pass me on the right. I sped up, but he kept trying. We hit about 80-90 with him on the shoulder. At some point, we came up to the crest of a hill and I knew the officer was right on the other side. I hit the brakes and he flew up over the hill...he had to be doing at least 90 in a 40. I even stopped to let the officer out of the parking lot. MOST. SATISFYING. THING. EVER.
My first "real" boyfriend 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. (I know, I know).
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–when I walked in, I nearly gasped. Well, well, well, there was her familiar face. 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.
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 to 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 had her as a friend 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 sweet 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.
This 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 over again. If I was trying to write something, he would do it even harder. One day, I decided enough was enough—and 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. He never messed with me again.
A bad repair shop in Utah messed up our car, which left us stranded in a nearby National Park. We called and demanded they tow the vehicle in, and while they said they'd come to get us, they never did. When we talked with park rangers, they made a chilling revelation. They were quite familiar with the shop. It was the biggest in town and had 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 by 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 authorities on us, but the joke was on him! We'd already notified them that we’d be protesting, and were well within our rights in doing so. 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.
When 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. As you might guess, this turned into a horrific idea. 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 post from her mother (we were in our twenties).
It said 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, I had to have her address in order to serve the papers. Little did she know I wouldn't stop until I got it.
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 see where she lived. It literally took me all night, but I managed to hack into her Hotmail account and then her PayPal account, which lead 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 non-transferable.
The judgment was swift. The victory was mine.
Long story short, a kid I was friends with hit me in the junk three times in one night. He then called me a "wee baby" and got in my face. He tried to make me flinch by half-swinging at me. I didn't flinch—I got him back big time. Instead, I headbutted him with everything I had. Crushed his nose, blood pouring out of his face. I had a tiny cut in the center of my forehead, with one line of blood running down my face. I looked psychotic but tough as heck.
When I was a kid, probably five years old, I was watching Dumbo with my neighbor. The "elephants on parade part" were scary as all heck to me back then, and the worst happened: I peed my pants. My neighbor told everyone in my Pre-K class and would not stop calling me the "pants peer" for weeks. Finally, one day I slept over at her house, and I executed my petty plan—I took a pair of her pants out of her closet, put them on, and peed in them. I woke her up to show her, and that's the story of how I became the two-time pants-peer.
I have two older brothers. The eldest is a good person. The middle is a monster. He has tormented my family for 20 years and I have taken the brunt of the assault as the only person willing to openly challenge him. He took my mother's wedding rings, my grandmother's car, and my television, just to name a few things. My family decided to try again to welcome him back into their lives, so I followed suit.
It's Christmas 201, the best holiday celebration I could ever imagine. All is well. Then it all goes wrong. My middle brother walks in the door to collect presents two days after celebrations—strike one. This brother then drops a baggie of substances when he walks in the door—that was strike two. My middle brother criticizes my eldest brother's renovations and tells my grandmother she spent money for nothing—strike three.
So now we’re in the car on the way home. We had decided it’s best to go back into town together so it saves someone a trip. My middle brother asks me for my passport. I say, "No I can't do that". My middle brother concocts a magical story where I borrowed his ID to get into clubs when I was a teenager. Lies. I did not and would not. He says he needs it to get into a party. He's 300 lbs and 35 and would never be carded under any circumstances.
Middle brother now goes to his standard method of persuasion and starts yelling and is getting increasingly loud and argumentative. There's a line somewhere between asking and demanding something of someone. He crosses it. My heart races like it used to when I was a boy when he used to follow my friends and me and beat the heck out of us with his friends. Much earlier in my life, 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 my passport.
I tell him that if he mentions my passport again on the ride home, I will crane 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 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. He had made a grave mistake.
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 hit. He hits me twice, above and below my right eye. I completely lose it and wail on the left side of his face until it is a broken and bloody ruin. If you're reading this, middle brother: screw you.
I ground up laxatives and tainted all my kitchen fridge food to figure out which of my seven roommates was eating all my food. Meanwhile, I survived off a secret stash in my mini-fridge. I found out who did it. Very, very quickly.
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 in our area. As she walks 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” (like in The Scarlet Letter) 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. 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 through 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.
My college roommate had a sketchy friend he would invite over. My textbook was taken the weekend before my final. I went to the bookstore and found the book. I had notecards that I used as bookmarks still in the book. I texted my roommate's friend and made up a story that the bookstore was going to press charges unless he gave the money back. He confessed over the phone and told me to meet him at his place to get the money.
After taking the money, I poured a drink over his head and told him to never come to my place ever again.
Back in the summer of 2009, my girlfriend and I were going pretty strong when I found out she was sleeping with this guy on the side. She admitted it and said she was sorry, then I dumped her. I didn't know the guy but I remembered his name. Then, one night at a party a few months later, I got introduced to a guy I thought was him. Throughout the course of the night, 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 on the bed. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I had too good an opportunity to pass it up. So...I had the brilliant idea to take a dump on him.
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.
There was a guy in high school who was a complete jerk to me for a couple of years. I decided to exact revenge in a rather unique way—via magazine. I went to the school library and pulled subscription cards out of every women’s magazine I could get my hands on, and a few strange ones like Psychology Today and Architectural Digest, and filled out cards in his name, with his address, and checked "bill me later".
I overheard him complaining a few months later about how he kept getting all these magazines he never ordered and it was getting irritating. Score.
In high school, one of my best friends started dating my ex-boyfriend the day after we broke up...which happened to be my 16th birthday. So then and there I decided to ruin her sweet sixteen. I just wasn't sure how at first. Fast forward three months. She planned an extravagant birthday party and played hooky 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, and arrived at her sweet 16 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 the sacred girl code, and that's never okay.
I was the new kid at my middle school. I knew a handful of kids there but not everyone. The first month or so, I mainly talked to my friends and was pretty quiet otherwise. This one annoying kid, Andrew, took that as his cue to try to start tormenting me. He would do and say super disrespectful stuff about me out of nowhere and shoulder-check me in the hallways.
After like a week of that, I asked him if he wanted to play basketball after school, and he agreed. He had no idea what was coming. We went to the court behind the school, and I basically just beat the heck out of him when no one was looking. I never even told anyone.
I'm not saying that was cool or anything, but I wasn't going to spend my next two years hating my life because of this guy. And the harassment immediately stopped after that.
There was the kid in Junior High who was always in my face. Not exactly a bully, just two parts jerk and one part idiot. Constantly following me around. I tried turning the other cheek, being nice, and stuff like that, but it just was not working.
Fast forward to high school, and we are both on the wrestling team. I'm like one weight class above him, so we have lots and lots of close contact and he was still being a jerk. When we faced each other, I took my chance to show him who was boss. In a split second, boom—double leg takedown. I scooped that idiot up in the air and dented the mat with him. The coach got angry and made me do extra cardio after practice. It felt really good anyway.
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 jerks. The culture's fatalism makes young guys even more reckless and irresponsible than their hormones already program them to be.
So, after a rare rain shower, the highway is flooded up ahead. 18 inches deep. Traffic is backed up for at least a mile, and it takes us 15 minutes to get to the flooded patch. Everyone is annoyed...and then it happens. I see two cars full of teenage jerks passing people on the shoulder on the right from way behind me. Now, there's just no excuse for that.
Eventually, they get to where I am, and they pass me just as we're reaching the 50-yard stretch where the flooding is 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, a nice big four-wheel drive. So while they're crawling through a foot of water in their little action-boy Hondas, I decide “screw it” and rush up between them through the deep stuff in the middle lane.
The wave from my front wheels was about six feet high, and it had to have put 20 gallons of water through the windows of both cars. Completely drenched. All of them...with nasty urban stormwater runoff. Bwahaha!
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.
This one comes to mind because I thoroughly enjoyed it. I was out snow-blowing the driveway one day. Some dude who is a friend of my sister's walks up to me and throws a snowball at me. He then gave that look like "What are you gonna do about it, man?" He then laughed, putting his hands up as if to go "Ohhh!!"
Dude? Do you not see this sizeable snow-moving device I am pushing around? It only took several seconds to completely coat him in snow, and the look of defeat on his face was glorious.
In fourth 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 as if 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 we were playing at the time. I stepped up to the orange rubber plate, the bat heavy in my hands. The Ex was pitching and called out to everyone in the outfield "Don't worry about this one, she can't hit anything”. That's when I got angry.
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 Wiffle ball met my bat with a dull, plastic WHACK. Next, the Wiffle ball met The 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.
In elementary school, I was bullied by this girl. I was tiny, red-haired, had braces and glasses along with low self-esteem, so of course, I was a target. She was just fat 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—my parents were a bit surprised when they got the letter about my being admitted, but that's another story.
I went on to be accepted into one of the more prestigious public high schools in my area. I met her one day at the end of the second year. She had put on so much weight and was on her way home, four takeaway bags in hand, to her parent's place. I lived on my own and was out jogging, at my skinniest, that day.
My revenge was simple—I just decided to be nice to her. She had failed everything and could only get into the lowest-priority high school. I was the highest priority. She had gained so much weight, and I was skinny and felt beautiful. She bought kilos of take-away, and I was out running. And I was so nice and compassionate. All those years of tormenting me…I just felt sorry for her.
I'm a professor. Many years ago, I had a small cluster of students in one course that I strongly suspected was 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 made a disturbing discovery. I found that my cheaters all had perfect scores on the page 1 questions, but then screwed up subsequent questions to varying degrees. They all went from "A"s on the first two tests to "D"s and "F"s on the test in question.
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. Turns out they had access to my department's copy room from a former student worker and would routinely pop in and take exams from the to-be-copied pile after hours.
In the end, it caused a big disciplinary fuss in the administration with "F" grades, multiple suspensions, and one expulsion, which is a true rarity given how universities are about kicking out students. The cheaters were hoisted by their own petard and I got what passes for professor street cred among my peers for catching a well-organized group that many others had missed.
When I was in fourth grade, I was pushed around a lot by a kid who thought he was hot stuff. I told my parents, I told my teacher, they told the teacher and the principal…to no avail. So, one day on the stairs he kicks the back of my shoe, making it pop off and fall. But I got my payback in an instant—in a jerk reaction, I turned and punched him in the stomach. He keeled over and rolled down a flight of stairs to the next landing. I didn't even get in trouble, and even though he is still a jerk, he never dared to touch me again.
My grandfather was driving when an obviously not-sober 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 turned out to give him a fake number.
A year later, my grandfather picks up a guy from Park & Ride (carpooling), and he happens to be the man who 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—his next actions brought his jaws to the floor. He throws it out the window.
The guy freaks out and my grandpa goes “Remember me?'” He then made him get out of the car.
I was in the Canadian air cadets at summer camp. We got picked on and had things stolen from us by one other cadet with issues for the duration of the camp. We were allowed to go buy sundries at a local pharmacy once a week. On the final day of camp, we did precision parade drills for friends, family, dignitaries, etc. Sort of like graduating from boot camp.
It was a formal event where we were expected to be at our best. Well, we had taken the awful cadet’s regular gum and swapped it for laxative gum. A while later, we are called up for a drill. Since it was hot and we were in full uniform, if we experienced exhaustion or were about to faint, we were supposed to drop to one knee and wait until we got taken out of formation.
He dropped to one knee partway through. I don't know for sure if he pooped himself but I like to think he did.
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 big porch and went inside. Not five minutes later, we went outside—what I saw made my blood boil. My friend’s new bike was missing. We promptly hop in my car and start to search 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 boy with my friend’s bike and the stickers had already been 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 up this kid up and down. Right as we're about to head out he yells "Give me your jacket!” Yep, he made the kid give him the jacket he was wearing off his back as punishment for stealing the bike. It was a nice rugged Carhartt jacket, and to this day my friend still uses it.
I walked away from a relationship and told her to keep the ring. I literally left her standing there in a mall and I swear I could feel her watching me walk away. I'm pretty sure it broke her because after a little Facebook stalking, she hasn't had an actually serious relationship since, and now she's a single mom.
She’s also occasionally posted one of those cryptic "The one that got away" memes and I'm 90% sure she's talking about me. Maybe don't cheat next time dummy.
My friend’s ex was horrible and deserved to be dumped. She treated my friend like garbage and saw him as nothing more than a pair of lips. After they broke up, she refused to talk to us. Fast forward two months and she's still a bit bitter with most of our friend group with the exception of me. See, she wanted me.
So she asked me out. That's when we came up with a brilliant plan. We decided that everyone would just so conveniently be at the movie theater when we were on our date, including her ex and his current girlfriend. The look on her face when she was essentially flash-mobbed and completely ignored for the night was priceless.
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 his information.
I checked the bill 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.
About a month ago I found out my co-worker, a good friend of mine, was cheating with my girlfriend at the time. I teamed up with a few other work buddies and we decided to teach him a lesson. We went to a Korean mart and bought two frozen raw fish. With the help of one of my buddies, I was able to get a hold of his car keys.
We hid one of those two fish we bought earlier in a place that would be pretty obvious and easy to notice, but we didn’t stop there. We duct-taped the other fish underneath his passenger side seat. He did find one of the fish and was pretty mad with us. Here’s the sweet revenge, though.
He kept complaining that he just couldn’t get rid of the fish smell from his car even though he cleaned his car with shampoo and used all kinds of car scents. I quit that work a few days after, so I don’t know if he found the other fish yet. We don’t talk anymore.
Back in high school, the senior football players egged my dog, house, and car. See, I had a few friends over and we ended up inviting some of the prettier girls from my school over. The football players didn't approve of them being at my house and drove by egging and yelled “screw you" at me. They also egged the girls’ cars that were at my house.
I felt embarrassed that this happened to them at my house. I knew which car they drove because of the yelling idiot and recognized the car. So my friends and I hopped in my car and bought around 100 eggs to take our revenge. We hit the driver’s house first, and all of his friends’ cars were parked around the house. Then we went out looking for them. We ended up meeting them on your average two-way street, leaned out of the windows, and absolutely pelted them while we were both heading opposite ways.
They got out and yelled, and I stuck my middle finger out the window and we rode into the distance. They didn't cause any problems for the girls or me after that.
I was in the locker room in high school gym class, hiding in the back because I had to call my mother about something ASAP. Just as I'm picking up the phone, this kid who had been a long-time tormenter to me came over and started taunting me with his usual threats. As I was leaving a message for my mom, I did not want him taunting me in the background. So I took it to the extreme—I kicked him as hard as I could.
I aimed for his stomach, but he reacted and somehow managed to get himself kicked in the groin instead. He looked at me in shock and ran away. I managed to finish the message without faltering once. Not long after this, I happened to be at the DMV with the same kid and both of our fathers, both of us testing to get our permits. I passed. He failed. Extra karma.
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. Whenever I suggested we go do one of those things, though, she argued that it 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. Or I met a guy who always wanted to start his own coffee shop, but he started spreading malicious rumors about me and I lost a lot of friends. But there was just one thing. One friend I did not lose had a line of coffee shops that he needed someone to get going for him.
I was working in student life at a university and butt heads with one of the other program directors, who was very demanding with his participants. 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 and I had no seniority so I should leave his students alone. So I just started another program that became successful and made his redundant. I got promoted ahead of him.
Why would you take a kind of revenge that makes the world worse for someone else, when you can make it better for yourself?
Years ago, I was living in an apartment in Johannesburg. My block consisted mostly of elderly folk and a few young working couples like me and my wife, and we all generally hit the sack early. The place was like a morgue after 10 pm. Until, that is, 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 threatened. The owner of the apartment was one of the guys' dads, so they had no fear of being kicked out. One evening, around midnight, they hooked up with some friends and girls to go clubbing. They were outside on the road, talking, yelling, girls screeching. Bedlam. Eventually, they departed.
I was furious, but being an original 90-pound wimp, I felt helpless. Then I remembered something crucial. The tube of superglue is 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, while lying in bed, I hear the Party Hardies arrive back.
Same deal as when they left—making a huge commotion as they spill out of their cars and headed for the apartment. Then silence. Later, I heard they ended up breaking a toilet window and getting in that way. The girlfriends of course were having none of it, so they left, as did the friends.
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, 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 angry that he kicked out the roommate. From then on, it was the quietest flat in the building.
I worked as a contractor helping IT set up hardware for a branch of hospitals. Almost everyone was easy to get along with, but one of the contractors treated me like I was an idiot because I was the only one there without any formal IT training. It was a daily explanation of something very simple that I already understood.
"Okay. You know how to put a USB in right? laughs Right. Well, okay. But just in case you forgot, let me show you”. I did not have time for this ego trip. I just kept my mouth shut and worked my butt off for the length of the contract. A few months later, I was rehired by the same IT team. They wanted me to go through the previous contractors we had that summer and pick out which ones to help out with our project. Guess who didn't get hired?
I was driving home around 2 in the morning. There were two cars ahead of me, and one was clearly giving the other car a hard time; tailgating him, cutting him off, etc. I caught up to them at the light and I saw a scared older man (70+) getting verbally cussed out by this kid. I knew I had to do something to save that old man.
Now, I was totally sober and I knew that patrol cars often hung out in the back of the parking lot at work. Heh, heh. So I get the punk’s attention and he started harassing me instead. I pulled into the parking lot, and he followed. I then whipped down to the back and yep, there was an officer.
The lights came on. Both of us got pulled over. The other guy was screaming and I only had to explain for 30 seconds what happened. I left the scene like I did my good deed for the day.
For ten months I had the worst roommate ever. A 40-year-old guy who acted like he was 21. His parents support him and pay for his condo, in which I rented a room with no lease. As such, I had no tenant rights, which he took advantage of. He was loud, rude, and yelled 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, the inconsiderate, narcissistic person I have ever met. The day I was supposed to move out, he passed out from a binge. I moved all of my stuff into the truck and was driving off. Then 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 possum landed next to him with a plop. He deserves worse, actually, but I did what I could.
This ranks as the number 1 top spot for my best revenge moment. I was 13 and was reclining on a beach chair. This boy about my age and his younger friend, who I'd known for about a week, was standing behind me and kept messing with the chair and wouldn't stop when I asked them to. He and his friend were classic little bratty, redneck children. The younger one had a rattail mullet, relevant for later.
The entire time I'd known them they were spouting off about how the boys were doing this but the girls couldn't do that because they were girls, stuff like that. The last time they messed with my chair I stood up, spun around, looked the bigger one in the eye, and told him he'd better stop.
He looked right at me with a smirk on his face and asked, "What are you going to do about it?" As soon as the words left his mouth, I punched him in the eye and grabbed the younger kid's rattail mullet, and yanked it so hard he fell to the ground. Then I sat back down. Both started crying almost immediately and didn't mess with me again. Eight years later and it's still the best feeling of revenge I've ever had.
I was staying at my girlfriend’s house, and a couple of houses away was a group of people who would party late into the night, go out, and then begin again. One night after having a very interrupted sleep I overheard one of the girls in the house loudly ordering pizza at an all-night place. She made one big mistake. She gave me her credit card number and I quickly copied it down.
The next day, I went to a flower delivery site and delivered an $80 bouquet to the four houses around the house on either side of the street with a note saying “Sorry for the noise, we apologize and won't do it again”. They have been quiet ever since.
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. So I plotted revenge to show the inspectors that it wasn't me—and it couldn't have gone any smoother than it did. Every four or so days, everyone stood duty. One weeknight I was put on duty and I waited for the exact time that I was roving in the barracks to pull off the trickery.
Earlier, I had peed in a Ziploc baggy and placed it in my friend’s freezer. Well, now I had it, a sheet of pee-ice. I walked up to my room 60 minutes before inspection, knowing my idiot roommates wouldn't be up, and slid this sheet of pee 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 melee of the inspector banging on the door, them trying to get dressed, and them both very confused and shuffling through the pee, all heck broke loose.
The inspector had those idiots standing at attention leaning over to smell the huge puddle before realizing it was pee in the middle of the floor. I’ll never forget the face he made. 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, and I never will.
When we were teenagers and drinking, one of my friends ordered a pizza from a public phone to his house and met the delivery guy outside his house. Soon after, we started walking to a party a few miles away. He was being a jerk about not sharing the pizza. He wouldn't give me a slice even though I had gotten my older brother to buy the drinks.
When we were going through a park, he handed me the box. I opened it and it was empty. I told him to screw himself and handed the empty box back. He was all like, "No, it’s a present, it’s your box now" and would not take it back. That made me SUPER angry. So instead of legally dumping it, I carried it past all the bins and in the middle of the park left it on a big “no dumping” sign.
There was a big anti-litter clampdown at the time and people were getting fined for littering. At the party, he was telling everyone how stupid I was for carrying the box for miles instead of putting it in a bin. The look on his face when I reminded him that his name and address were on the box, which I left on a no-dumping sign that also said how much you would be fined, was priceless.
I had an extremely incompetent boss who lived for showing off to his own bosses. We were working on this big project and were using an unfamiliar and unwieldy bit of software for it. I suspected my boss had never touched the thing at all and was just making stuff up to say at meetings.
The next time we met with the big boys, I knew just what to do to get back at him. I "forgot" to bring my laptop and my boss had to connect his own laptop to the projector. He clicked to open the big stupid software program to give everyone an update and we all sat and watched as he had to go through the new user setup process because, yeah, he'd literally never even opened the program. Never even clicked on it accidentally or to make sure it works.
My ex tried to screw me after our divorce—he wanted full custody of our kid and opened up lawsuit after lawsuit to tell me how mentally unstable I was and not fit as a parent. He also wanted to financially ruin me so that I would not be able to defend myself with lawyer costs and so that I would not be able to afford a home for my kid, as I live in the expensive city he made us move to.
I bit through years of living on a very small budget, making sure that my kid had a happy childhood and didn't get aware of the hardships and fighting going on behind closed doors. I slowly built myself a good career and now am living in a nice apartment with my kid, have a court order that testifies that the kid is safe and fine with me, and just landed a job that will pay me more than my miserable ex.
My friend was savagely egged by a bunch of teenagers one Halloween while riding his bike. My car, traveling at 60, was also egged from an overpass around the same time and same suburb. My bruised and egg-soaked friend managed to catch the license plate of the offending car and commit it to memory.
We were determined to find the offender, and months later we came across the same car parked outside a house one suburb over. We started planning our long revenge. We bought a dozen eggs and let them sit outside for a couple of months in the summer. Late one night, we stealthily and strategically egged the heck out of the car. Revenge is a dish best served cold. And eggy.
My ex of two years cheated on me, and when I kicked him out he forgot to take tons of administration papers from his job that he was responsible for. The papers contained the private information of hundreds of people, as he worked in healthcare. I gave him a month to pick it up. He didn’t.
So then I took photos of all those documents and sent them to his boss, getting him fired and seriously hampering any future employment capabilities.
When I was 12 years old, a kid beat me up at a birthday party for reasons unknown. Four years later, the kid was 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 did the unthinkable—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 at that moment. I still have the ball in my apartment at college.
My high school counselor told me I was too dumb to graduate from college and too bad to serve in the forces. Years later, after serving in the Marine Corps infantry and obtaining a BS and MS in plant science, I was asked to be the keynote speaker for the graduation ceremony at my old high school. The counselor was in her last few years before retirement.
I worked that personal story into my talk and watched her face drop. I didn’t mention her by name, but we both knew.
My ex cheated on me and moved out. However, she moved out slowly over time, which meant I still lived with a lot of her stuff. Some of her clothes were left in the closet. I cut teeny tiny corners off of every sleeve, but barely enough to be noticeable. You'd have to think you were going insane to notice it...but then again, over time, each sleeve did look...somewhat off. She eventually asked me about it months later. I denied everything. I regret nothing.
When I was 11 years old, I was bullied by a 12-year-old boy. He would take things from my lunch every day. I got sick of it—and I 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 into his mouth. His reaction was priceless.
He practically exploded in pain. Writhing around the floor, unable to handle the heat. But I wasn’t done yet. 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 took food from me again. I regret nothing.
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