The BBC have posted an article hereon how people quit their jobs with style.
I have no such tales of my own; do you?
The guy that quit twitter with deleting DT’s account deserves an honorable mention:) link
What do you think spurred the article linked to in the OP?
I usually get fired, so no good stories. I “quit” Radio Shack when they transferred me (for the 100th time) to a crappy location by simply not going. Took them a few days to realize I wasn’t going to show up.
Through a nice technicality, I was able to collect unemployment. 
Fuck The Shack!
I have no really good quitting stories. But a high school friend of mine bought a friendship card for his boss. On the front were glittery flowers and cursive words: “You can always count on me.” On the inside, he wrote, “I quit.”
Today, after 41 1/2 years… My job quit me.
Oh no. I hope you got a good separation package after that long.
I was a teen (smartass angst on board) working in an Ice cream joint, when my ex-boyfriend came in with a girl. My boss (another teen) grabbed me and said don’t do anything stupid. So I took their order, pretty as you please, took in to the table and dumped ice cream and drinks in their laps, and walked out the front door removing my apron and dropping it on the ground, got in my car and went home. Just didn’t give a flying fuck! Boy, I was famous at school on Monday. I tell you!
Not to bad, I received 36 weeks full pay.
Insurance for three months.
Came away with a Retirement plan, plus a 401K.
So I’m happy.
Two stories to contribute to this thread:
I once planned an exit with care. I took a new job with an arranged start date 8 weeks hence. I then took a planned 4 week vacation from my job. I returned to work only to give my two weeks’ notice, just as they were expressing their immense gratitude that I had finally returned to work. I enjoyed the additional two weeks off before starting my new job. It was rather delicious.
I wasn’t in a job where I could do this, but I sure wish I could have. I have a friend who quit on a post-it note. She just wrote, “I quit,” on the note, stuck it to the screen of her computer and left. I giggled over it for weeks. 
I don’t think I have ever had a job I didn’t quit. I was working in a office in a paper mill, when I found I was preggers with the lil’wrekker, I told everyone, and the girls gave me a baby shower (surprise) on the day I decided to quit. Boss wasn’t too happy about it.
I knew a guy who quit, and saw his resignation letter. All set up, nice and formal, but the body of the letter was the far side cartoon where dog-filled UFOs are hovering over a house, and a dog is standing upright on the porch talking to a human, and the caption reads,“Well, they finally came, but before I go let’s see you roll over a few times.”
It was not a friendly parting of ways.
I never really quit with much panache, but after I left one particularly bad job, I did report my boss to corporate counsel for the little scam he was running. I only regret that I wasn’t there to witness the massive shit storm it set off. I heard about it through friends. Apparently it was epic. Boss got fired. I also regret a little that he never knew it was me.
I once had a job doing kitchen prep and stocking the salad bar at a place that was a second rate copy of Sizzler. I hated every aspect of the place. The customers were pigs who would barehand food off the bar, putting back stuff that they had tasted. The manager had me do things I thought were questionable from a food safety POV, and always scheduled me for the Sunday morning shift; the worst there was. The rest of the people that worked there all socialized together and were irritated with me and questioned my commitment when I refused to drink with them when I wasn’t working.
One beautiful Saturday morning, I was offered tickets to a football game by friends I hadn’t seen at least a year. Of course I was on the schedule at work. So I went to the game, intending to leave at half time. A couple (?) beers later, I decided that shit was for the birds and… just didn’t go to work.
My roommate at the time knew I wasn’t ever going to leave that game for the job he knew in detail how much I hated. He knew before I did, it was so obvious. So when work called to ask where the hell I was, he spun this tale of brutal violence that ended in my kidnapping. He asked them politely not to call back as the police wanted the line clear for ransom demands. Of course those assholes called several more times that day, and my roommate added more embellishments to the story each time. Eventually, they got the picture and quit calling.
I heard from the one person that I liked there that the whole place was in uproar that day. Was it true? Was I playing a prank? Could I really be hurt or worse? Once it was clear the whole deal was bullshit, I guess I guess I became a hero to a whole underclass of employees there I wasn’t aware of. I heard my antics prompted some others to quit too.
The next year, I moved into a new apartment complex. Went down to do my laundry one night and gradually became aware that some dude was staring holes into me. It was my manager there. I was cool and collected and never across the whole year I lived there indicated I had any idea who he was.
Officially I got fired, but then, in that company everybody officially got fired. Their response to “I quit!” was “you can’t quit, I’m firing you!” Pretty stupid: if you quit you don’t get unemployment and if you’re fired without an explanation you do, but hey, whatever.
The job was Susana’s Assistant. Susana was the Quality Manager in a company whose basic HR policy was “the managers hate everybody who isn’t also a manager - they also hate each other, but a little less.” She would say things such as “my job consists of pissing people off”; she started off every morning by calling the warehouse boss (not manager) into her office and doing a passable imitation of the Queen of Hearts: “I’m going to rip your headofffffff! HOW CAN YOU BE SO STUPIDDDD!!!” She was very proud of the fact that the person who’d lasted least in the job of Susana’s Assistant had quit before lunch on her first day.
Me, I needed the job both for financial reasons (living back at my parents’ and my mother was charging me more for the pleasure of being the main homemaker and dad-caretaker than she would have paid a stranger for doing half the work) and for emotional ones (see previous parenthesis). But I’d also made it clear that I couldn’t take jobs with irregular hours or shifts; Susana’s Assistant was office-hours so it suited, and she’s not the worst bitch I’ve worked under. But after three months in the job she informed me that in fact one of the things they’d hired me for was to act as the replacement for a shift worker who was having knee surgery. I indicated that was a change of position and legally required a new contract (different hours, different safety issues). Was told to stuff it.
On the third day in the night shift I almost burned myself putting a sample in the vulcanization oven. Those plaques got at over 500C; it’s not something you want to be touching with your bare hand, specially when you know nobody will hear you because the other people in the factory are in a different building. I hadn’t been able to sleep for three days (if I’m napping by day, either I hadn’t slept in more than 60 hours or I have the flu), I was dizzy and working in dangerous conditions with dangerous materials. I went to the shift boss (not manager!) and told him I was sorry but needed to go. I drove those 22km back home at 10km/h (it’s very unusual to encounter another car in that road, worst case scenario I would have flattened some wheat).
Next day I came in at 11am, got fired. Susana asked “aren’t you crying? C’mon, aren’t you going to cry?” “No, why would I?” I signed the receipt of the pink slip, went back to my car, took out three trays of minicakes and six of minisandwiches and brought them over to the lab, with indications that 1/3 be for each of the 3 shifts, “make sure the night people get theirs, ok?” and left the factory bowing to an ovation.
According to people still working there, I still hold the record for “person who lasted longest without strangling Susana or quitting.”
This wasn’t me, but my SIL. He was in charge of a small imprint in a large publishing house. He had six editors under him and was ordered to designate three to be fired so their jobs could be moved to India. He told them to stuff it. And thereby forfeited 6 months severance pay they would have owed him had he been fired. At the time, I thought he was nuts, but he is doing well in a different job (although his company was just bought by Amazon, so we will have to see how well he continues to do).
I once quit a crappy radio station job with just a few days notice, for good and abundant reason (the number of staffers who quit that place would fill a small phone book).
As a parting gift, I recorded a Christmas number (it was that time of year, and the station had a bunch of little Xmas greeting drop-ins) and inserted it into the semi-automated cart rotation. It featured a jolly Christmas tune with Santa (me) doing ho-ho-hos in the background. In the midst of ho-ho-hoing, Santa develops an alarming tubercular cough which becomes more and more dire, until he expires dramatically as the music fades.
I’ve wondered how long it took them to find and delete that.
I once worked beside a guy who quit his job in Scotland via fax from New Zealand, the country - very much to everyone’s surprise - he had just emigrated to. Literally left work early on the Friday and faxed his resignation in on the Monday, with none of his co-workers having any idea at all about what he had been planning.
Slightly different, but a story worth telling. At the same company as above, one of the network guys got a job with the European Space Agency (in Belgium iirc). Popular, super- competent guy, everyone sad to see him go, delighted for him getting such a cool job, well-attended night out for his leaving do - you get the picture.
One week later, he was back at his old desk at his old company doing his old job. I never heard definitively what happened on the ESA side of things, but he called his old boss after two days on the new job and asked if he could come back.
I worked for a guy with poor people skills and lousy ethics, and during a heated discussion about him wanting me refusing to adopt a shady practice of his, he told me people like me were a dime a dozen. When I quit, I taped a dime to my resignation.