Dirty, Rotten Revenge!

Hey all,

After readng Master Wang-Ka’s apartment revenge story, I remembered something I did to a soon to be ex-roomie.

I’ll get to that in a minute, but first I want to hear all of your revenge stories. Especially the evil ones. It doesn’t have to be apartment related. Just something you did to get back at them and how it worked out.

My story is about the roomie who threw me out for being too messy. Yes, I was a bit of a slob in those days (this cured me of it). And I was right about to leave for grad school. But giving someone 30 days to split for their FIRST Offense is pretty bad. I mean, he didn’t even say to just clean it up and keep it clean. It was just, “Get out!”

So I got even.

He was the kind of guy who always had the TV remote in hand. Even when walking around the apartment talking on the phone. Consequently, we spent many hours every week looking for the remote after he put it down somewhere in the apartment. I took the remote with me when I left a giggled every time I thought of him looking for it.

I also monopolized the mailbox key and intercepted his mail from the IRS informing him that he was being audited for under-reporting and that not replying was a BAD thing to do. I then chucked it out without telling him.

I “despoiled” some deviled eggs he had made up for a special occasion. Don’t ask.

I did all this on the day before I moved out (except the mail thing) so I never got to find out the consequences. And I made sure to move everything all in one go while he was at work. So he got home and I was GONE. And no forwarding address as well.

Yes, I was evil. Yes, I enjoyed it. Yes, I wish I knew some of the things I’ve read here at that time. So he could have found the raw fish in the heating grate and other low-down stuff.

So let’s hear how low-down the dopers can be!

First off, please provide a link to Master Wang-ka’s story. It’s a classic.

Second off, I didn’t do anything as bad as you did, but I did get my Psycho college dorm roommate back. She was a senior, and I was a freshman. (That should have tipped me off, why would a senior need a freshman roomie? Doesn’t she have any friends?)

Anyway, she started off with unplugging her tv and putting it in her closet when she left for the weekend, so I couldn’t watch it. One night I was out all night helping my sorority prepare a homecoming float. I didn’t return until 6 am. She must have thought I was slutting around, since she started leaving nasty notes, telling me to stay off her side of the room and not to touch her stuff.

It’s very uncomfortable sharing a room with someone that you have to walk on eggshells around. When the semester was over, I found an apartment to share, and one weekend while she was gone, I moved out. I showed her nasty notes to the Dorm Supervisor, and explained that was why I was moving out.

I left her a note on her bed, telling her that I had more fun my first semester in college than she had her entire four years, and I was glad to be gone.

Then, I unplugged her little refrigerator, which was full of food. She was not due to return for three days.

Petty? Yes. But to this day I have no idea what I ever did to piss her off, and it made me feel good.

Here it is. Post #22

Wang-Ka’s post in that thread is beautiful.

I dearly wish I could share some masterful tale of revenge, but I just can’t think of any right now, darnit. There was the time some people and I turned an elevator into a fish pond with some cinder blocks, tarp, two by fours, and some gold fish, but that was more of an amusing prank than revenge.

However, I eagerly await hearing more tales from others.

P.S.
I want to know how the deviled eggs were despoiled. Really!

When I broke up with a boyfriend, he’d left three pairs of pants in my apartment. I carefully hemmed them all so one leg was two inches shorter than the other. He picked them up, and a couple weeks later I got a message on my answering machine: “Very funny!

That was brilliant, Eve. All I ever did was have the power disconnected (when I knew she was going to be out of the apartment for 4 days.) Bwa ha ha ha.

Please note that I am not by nature a vengeful person.

When we sold our old house, it was purchased by a very horrible woman. Her inspector was in the house for FIVE hours with her, and he not only checked out the furnace and roof for her, but also commented on my taste in window dressings (“THEY have to leave those, you know, but you can throw 'em out after you move in.”) While they were inspecting, I was on the sofa under a blanket, sick as a proverbial dog - I had a 101 degree fever, chills, and was periodically running to the bathroom to vomit. The buyer came into the bathroom at one point to find me on my knees over the commode - her purpose was to inquire whether I planned to leave the birdbath in the garden. I shook my head no - the birdbath was a new addition, and had been a birthday gift for me. She said, “I think that is considered an installation, and I think you have to leave it here.” I finally phoned the WryGuy at work and asked him to come home to deal with her. When he did, she VERY snottily said to him, “Apparently your wife can’t handle the stress of a home sale.” Then she asked him if we were planning to replace the “ugly carpeting” which, she said, “HAS to go, because you’ve got all these cats, and I’m allergic.”

Why did we sell her the house? Well, for one, she deserved it. It was a well-kept home, thankyouverymuch, but old and quite beyond my tolerance for maintenance by this point. Plus, we’d had it on the market for 60 days, had purchased our new home, and we just plain wanted OUT. But her unbelieveable insensitivity and bitchiness stayed with me, and I became progressively more pissed as we got closer to signing papers.

So just before we moved out, I bought nine bags of catnip seed and scattered it throughout the yard. I also thoroughly combed all three cats and the dog too, for good measure, and stuffed the combed-out animal hair into all the heating ducts. I’m not proud of this.

But I don’t regret it either.

My good buddy Steve got some good revenge when he found out his wife was cheating on him.
After verifying that his wife was indeed having an affair he decided to keep it to himself for a while and do some planning.
One day at work he showed me his new watch. An expensive looking Tag Heur.
He said he found it in the glove compartment of his wifes car and kept it knowing it was the boyfriends and that his wife would never ask if he found it. He asked me if I wanted it but I passed.
Steve was also on very good terms with his in-laws. They liked him more than their own daughter. They lived in Vegas as where Steve and his cheating wife lived in Florida. Steve’s wife decided she wanted to take the boyfriend to Vegas for a fling one week and Steve found out because he found the plane tickets in her purse. Steve knew his in-laws didn’t know about their cheating daughter and when he called his father-in-law and asked “Dad, did you know your daughter is coming to Vegas?” and they didn’t, Steve told him “She’s going to need you to meet her at the gate (pre 9/11)” and gave him the flight number and time.
That’s how Dad found out he had a cheating daughter.
Meanwhile, Steve in Florida decided that was the perfect weekend for him to move and had a bunch of us help him. He emptied the home completely, changed the locks, and called a realtor the same day. He actually threw her clothes and posessions away that he had bought her (all of them, she didn’t work).
Then he moved to an apartment in another town and left no way for her to find him.
It hurt Steve pretty badly what she did to him and even when we were at the bar laughing over his victory I remember him laughing and at the same time leaning over to me with a tear in his eye asking me in a whisper “Do you think she knows I know yet?”

That’s a felony, by the way.

This wasn’t about a roommate, but close.

Some friends of mine had all moved into the same apartment complex, four apartments, all close to one another. One guy, we’ll call him Drunk Chris (because that’s the only name I’ve ever known him by) tended to forget which apartment was his in his drunken blackout states and would fall asleep in strange places that weren’t in his apartment. This included the bathtub (after defecating in it, no less) and behind the toilet. This happened three or four times a week.

Well, one night, late, DC shows up at my friends apartment, falling down drunk, flings open the door, falls onto the couch and immediately passes out. My friend tries for an hour or so to get him up and awake enough to get to his apartment (on the floor above) to no avail. So, he decides to have a little fun at this drunken fool’s expense.

He and his cousin had thrown a dinner party a month or so before and had, as college students do, not thrown out the shrimp platter. It had been mouldering in the fridge and had developed a mighty odor. They took this pile of putrescence and decorated Mr. DC with it, tying shrimp in his hair, filling his underwear, his socks, you name it. Satisfied with their handiwork, they go to bed.

When they get up in the morning, DC is gone and so are most of the shrimp. They find out later from DC’s roommate, that around seven that morning, he had been awakened by a shrieking coming from the bathroom. Seems that DC only remembered having one or two drinks. He then said that he had come straight home and gone to bed.

DC never did find out who had “shrimped” him. It was beautiful.

My best friend’s prom date got drunk and, shortly before the dance, passed out in the limo we had all rented. She was livid. We stripped him down to his underwear and hid the tux he’d rented (I think we got the idea from a movie or something). When he asked what happened, we told him we had no idea. He spent many frantic days worrying about losing his deposit and possibly having to pay for the thing. We did give it back eventually, but we did make him grovel first.

Kind of wimpy compared to some of these stories, but we had fun with it.

When I first moved to Tucson, I had a roommate. It was her apartment first, and was in her name, and we shared the bills. We rented a larger apartment together and one weekend in July moved there. Well, actually, she sat on her ass supervisin’ and me and my boyfriend moved us. In July. In Tucson. 107 degrees outside and sun so hot you can feel your skin sizzling.
That night, we’re all moved in and she tells me she’d had my name taken off the lease a couple days before, it is now HER apartment, and I needed to move out. RIGHT THEN. Wha???
Now, several months before that, roomie had totaled her car. She went right out and got a new one, and unfortunately for her, she had a big mouth. As she was bragging about her great new car (totaled car was a crappy old Nissan Sentra), she told me all about how she can make up social security numbers and identities, and get cool new stuff with them.
The next day, I went to the dealership where she’d bought her new car, and had a little meeting with the general manager.
She’s been in prison now for 5 years or so, and recently her parole was denied, so she has at least 3 years left to do. :eek:

That’s not revenge, trublmakr. That’s serving up a whole heaping mess of karmic justice! :stuck_out_tongue:

Serving justice is the BEST KIND of revenge! Walking the high moral road while enjoying the subway of schadenfreude.

Hampshire, I don’t EVER want to do you wrong.

Filmgeek, yeah it’s a felony. Sometimes you have to do wrong to do wrong. But that asshole deserved it.

I’ll just copy this verbatim from FairyChatMom’s You can’t prove anything, but… thread:

When I was a teenaged lad, one could fill out a change-of-address form at the Post Office and hand it to the clerk without being asked for picture ID. It was quite easy to fill out such a form for one’s a__hole former roomate, sending all his mail to a legitimate address somewhere else (like in another state).
Or so I’ve heard. :smiley:

Once upon a time two friends of mine wanted their third roomie to get out. Nobody realized how big of a jerk he was until they lived together. His name was also on the lease so it had to be his decision to leave. Subtle little things, like the evening spent shaving a terrycloth towel with his electric razor to dull the blades. Resetting his alarm clock from AM to PM so he wasn’t sure if it was his mistake or not when he was late for work. There was more but that’s all I remember.

We did lament he didn’t have a car because of the 101 nefarious schemes in my head for that…

I mentioned once in another thread how I had prevented a once-good friend from getting a job he wanted after he had wronged me.

Another time I seriously considered doing something that would have gotten me significant jail time if I had had been caught. I got into pretty advanced planning on it, then decided to scrap it. I’ll leave out the gory details so Dopers don’t think I’m a complete nutjob.

I’ve also done the low-level stuff, such as slashing tires, exlax in food/drinks, sabotaging engines, etc.

CynicalGabe, can I hire you to be on my professional revenge team? The pay is low, but the benefits are great.

If anyone needs any pointers, the collected works of George Hayduke are a wonderful place to start.