Have you ever had really delicious revenge?

In My Humble Opinion
1

Inspired by this thread

I don’t remember ever getting any kind of revenge, delicious or no, on any occasion. Any attempt was merely another escalation of the war.

I can only remember a few times where Karma stepped up to the plate to mete out justice. A jerk speeding and weaving through bridge traffic, followed by a motorcycle cop, that kind of thing. When I was at Cornell there was a post-doc who was a real asshole – he had a hard time finding a job.

I always though revenge would be sweet. Is it?

2

For me, the old truism “Living Well is the Best Revenge” is totally on the money. As a plus it required me to do nothing but wait.

3

I once had some revenge that would have been delicious but it was cold.

4

Even if I had, I doubt if I’d feel good about it, on reflection.

5

A minor one, but extremely satisfying.

I used to play an awful lot of a board game called Twilight Imperium. For the uninitiated, TI is a fairly deep game with lots of facets and a pretty long run-time. One of the guys I played with was a friend who was edged pretty close to the acquaintance end of the spectrum. Call him Andrew.

Andrew and I would clash pretty regularly in this game, and it was starting to affect the overall gameplay. We were starting to play more to take one another out rather than playing to win. On top of that, he also liked to to play games “above the table,” taking pride in his ‘ability’ to manipulate people (he wasn’t as good at this as he thought). Anyway, one afternoon, we agreed to a truce for the sake of sportsmanship.

Just before we played, another player comes up to me and says, “Hey Johnny Bravo, I just wanted to let you know that Andrew cornered me out on the landing and asked me to help him take you out of the game early. I agreed, but I like you more than I like him, so do what you want with the information.”

So we start playing. Andrew’s race is a bunch of cat-people whose entire suite of abilities revolves around money. They accumulate it more quickly and their means of producing it are difficult to disrupt.

I bided (bade?) my time for a while and, through a combination of sheer luck and some pretty savvy maneuvering on my part (if I do say so myself), managed to engineer a series of events that nullified his special powers, drained his cash reserves, broke his trade agreements, and prevented him from re-establishing any sort of financial foothold in the game for several turns. It was one of those blows that you don’t really come back from.

He looked at me, spooling up righteous indignation, but I just said, “Yeah man, Frank told me about the deal you made with him on the landing.”

The look on his face was priceless. Completely priceless.

6

A priest (and family friend) told us a story about a little kid who would start talking shit and swearing at him every time they crossed paths. One day the priest was at the grocery store and he spots the kid shopping with his mother. He approaches them and the kid has a look of terror on his face as he realizes his mom is going to find out about his antics. The priest looks at the mom and asks sternly “Ma’am, is this your son.” She says it is, wondering what’s going on. The priest looks at the boy and says “I just wanted to let you know what a polite and well behaved child you have,” smiles and walks away.*
Whether it’s true or not, I always think about that when presented with a revenge opportunity.
*This took place before the revelations of child molesting priests, so it didn’t sound skeevie then.

7

When I was 22, I’d gotten my first programming job and it was way out in the sticks, 25 miles from where I lived in Illinois at the time. My lease wasn’t up for a few months, which would free me to move closer to work, so I had to put up with a long commute down country roads for a while.

So one evening I worked late and left work at maybe 7pm. The weather was miserable, below zero, and it was already dark out. I’m about 2/3rds of the way home, and some guy starts tailgating the heck out of me. It’s a two lane road with a double “no-passing” stripe, it’s winter so there’s no place to pull over because of the snow piled up on the shoulders, and I’m already doing my “five over” speed that’s my limit because I know there’s cops that clock on this road, and I’d been ticketed once already and didn’t want another. And here’s this guy right up in my grill, not letting up for a second.

We do this for a several miles, and it’s really getting to me. I’m tired, I don’t need this shit. So I realize there’s a four-lane (two each way) section of the road coming up where this guy can pass me, which is great, I won’t see him again. But I’m kind of pissed off by now, so I slow down, to perhaps 15-20 mph under the limit where I had been doing five over. I knew this would make that guy nuts, and once he could pass me he’d take off like a rocket. What I also knew was that the cops very often clocked cars on that stretch. Mwua ha ha.

So we get to the 4-lane stretch, and sure enough he pulls past me, making tracks; he must have been doing 70 – in a 45mph zone. Zoom!

And sure enough, his tail lights go out of sight around a curve and a second later I see the lights on a police cruiser light up. A minute later, I’m passing this guy, pulled over on the shoulder with a cop.

OK, it’s petty, and a petty revenge. But it felt good that night. What can I say, I was 22.

8

A long time back, I had a co-worker that LOVED to play practical jokes on all of us. I’d call in and she’d say, “Hold on, the big boss wants to talk to you.” (oh noes, not something to be desired while driving into work) Or she’d hand me a stack of messages, with some fake to-do’s from the big guy. She did it to all of us.

She was Irish, and decided to return to Ireland. She’d been shacking up, living in sin, with her boyfriend, unbeknownst to her very proper Catholic parents. So she and her boyfriend quietly got married in an neighboring county.

The day before she was due to fly home, I arranged for a well known radio station to prank call her and tell her there was a problem with her marriage license. That it was invalid because she wasn’t a resident of the county, and that she needed to re-perform the ceremony. We all sat in a conference room and listened. Of course, she was leaving the next day, so she couldn’t re-perform the ceremony. There may have been tears. The call made the top 10 of prank calls for the radio station that year. Replayed more than once. :smiley:

She took it well (good thing too, all the torture she put us all through)!

Revenge was sweet.

9

When I decided to retire, I came in one day long enough to collect my paycheck, taped my door key to my monitor, and left without nary a word. Yes, it was immensely rewarding.

10

Oh, yes! I got some sweet, hot delicious revenge one time. It was AWSOME! :smiley:

11

In my very last situation living with roommates, I had one named Eric. Eric was a sneaky little creep who told the landlord I was mentally unstable, about to lose my job, etc. and the landlord turned the lease over to him for the next year. None of this was true. He’s the one who’d been fired for stealing. Eric owed me hundreds of dollars in back rent and bills, but he said the landlord required me to move out. Fine. I’ll go. And I did. And since the electricity and water and gas and cable and phone were all in my name, I arranged to have them all turned off on the same day: the Friday before the Labor Day weekend. No hot water for showers, no cooking, no a/c in Texas in August, no entertainment. Just him and his girlfriend getting’ stanky in the dark for three long, long days. I don’t feel even remotely bad about it. I know neither one of them had the money to put down deposits for new service.

12

Yes; it was served with some fava beans and nice Chianti.

13

Thats KEY-ahn-TEE

14

It doesn’t sound “skeevie” now. :confused:

15

My first job out of college (yes, it Was a Social Science degree) was draftsman; we had one fellow who was let go via the boss passing in the hall one afternoon and saying “by the way, this is your last day”.
I was told that was a “special case”. He was an asshole, but so were all of the others.
Anyway, one Friday afternoon, as I passed the boos in the hall…
“By the way, this is my last day”.
Being the bright guy (with a future), and the rest were redneck hicks, there had always been tension between them and I. Not for the next 3 hours - I was a hero of the first magnitude.

If the hick town had a bar nearby, I wouldn’t have bought a round for at least the first 5 rounds.

16

Dude, I was in a fraternity on a campus with about 25 different fraternities. Where do I begin?

My favorite story doesn’t involve me or my chapter directly though. There was a huge rivalry between the sororities Chi Omega and Delta Zeta though. The DZs supposedly lied and told potential new members that the XOs hazed. We liked the XOs, so we thought up something that would drag the DZs name through the mud. We egged them on to wear DZ shirts and go around campus and the town doing really skanky things. Like sitting on the student center’s front steps wearing miniskirts and skimpy thongs with their legs wide open.

17

Not yet. True, there are some things about an acquaintance who turned out to be quite vile, but I’d probably keep them in check if only because they have some less-than-thrilling info per se about me.

Unfortunately, that person (and the group they hang with) seems to be just chomping at the bit to let loose. I guess that all I can really do is document… clean, oil, and load both barrels… & hope for them to find their inner non-asshole side. :cool:

Still, If I have to let loose, I promise I’ll let you know.

18

A guy once hit on my girlfriend at a bar, so I caused a distraction, stole his id, and then carjacked someone in the parking lot leaving his id in the car for the cops to find.

Guy’s now serving 5 years in state prison LOL

19

Setting speeders up is always fun (and a damned good idea - let them find the cops a few minutes before you pass.

That was how I drove up from FL one miserable night - AL, if memory serves - anyway, interstate heading north.
I’m in lane 2, going the limit. Pretty soon, the inevitable idiot blasts past me in #1 - I gave him about 3/4 mile (until all that could be seen was tail lights), then pulled into #1 and paced him.
Took about 10 minutes to pass him while he was waiting on the nice cop to finish up his citation. I was, of course, in #2 at the limit.

BIG TIP: If you see a traffic cop, BEHAVE YOURSELF for the next 10 minutes - they often work in pairs as mutual back-up; and you know a motorcycle cop is not going to slap a helmet on a drunk’s head and tell him to hold on - there is a cruiser nearby.

Second tip: Naptown (Indianapolis (locals hated the term)) i-65 South, just after a heavy snow.
I’m crawling in my '68 Ford wagon (speaking of living quarters on wheels) when a jerk in a jacked-up Jeep goes blasting by – exceedingly top-heavy rig. Found him a couple of miles down the road - in the ditch. This is in a unpopulated section (1978). I stopped and offered him a ride.
He DECLINED! Did I mention that this was a completely open vehicle, at least a mile from nearest interchange, and call boxes were few and far.
He declines a warm and mobile vehicle so he can try to get this rig out of the snowbank on the far side of the ditch. I enjoyed the rest of the trip. Doubt if he did.

20

Not exactly revenge but…

The last taxi I took to the airport, the driver went off on a rant about what was wrong with our country these days. Surprise, it’s those damned immigrants. He went on and on and on and on…

Then he says to me ‘So, are you a local lass?’

‘No,’ I replied (in my broad Kiwi accent), ‘I’m an immigrant.’

Made the rest of the journey pretty awkward but damn, it was worth it.