People Are Revealing the Times They Tried to Get Petty Revenge And It Went Too Far

This kid who was one of my good friends since preschool decided that I was better for picking on than being friends with when we got to high school. He would say all sorts of vile shit to try to get a reaction out of me, especially in front of people that he thought were "cool kids".

He'd sneakily draw swastikas and racist shit in my notebooks and then one day when I went to go to flip the page for a fresh sheet of notebook paper, bam, lab partners or teachers would see and give me weird looks.

At some point he said some terrible shit about my mom and another friend had to physically restrain me from killing him in history class. I calmed down and realized I was letting things get out of hand and if I wasn't careful I was going to get myself in trouble. I needed a more nuanced and subversive approach to my problem.Needless to say, this kid was not doing well in school. He wasn't a total idiot but he was too busy smoking weed and being an asshole to get his schoolwork done on time. Anyway he's failing a few classes and decides to make a concerted effort to pass. His hardest class is chemistry, which I happen to be in with him. 

I see my chance. I offer to help this repugnant sonofabitch study and take notes in chemistry for a big important upcoming project. In his eyes I'm like a pathetic beta dog in his pack, desperate for the approval of my leader.

Despite all the emotional torment he's put me through he doesn't think twice about taking help from someone with seething, fiery hatred coursing through his veins being driven on by the thought of sweet revenge and the eventual subjugation of his enemy. We fill his notebook up. I essentially do his project for him, encouraging him, feeding his ego, assuring him he's gonna pass and maybe even with a fairly good grade...........and then the day before the project is due I steal that loathsome bastards notebook complete with his entire project inside and ceremonially burn it in my garbage can in the alley behind my house while pumping Led Zeppelins version of "How Many More Times" on my uncle's hand me down vinyl player as loud as my shitty speakers would go. 

Rarely in my life have I felt so much pleasure as I did watching him stammering to the chemistry teacher that he swears he had his notebook with his project yesterday and watching the teacher, basing his judgment what a terrible and careless student this kid has been all year, basically tell him he thought he was full of shit and that if he didn't have the project he failed.

He did fail and then not long after he dropped out and, subsequently, his life went down the proverbial "tubes". I'm still not sorry muahahahahahahahahahahaa!

/ChickenDick403/

Here it is... this is 100% true, and I still feel like a dickhead to this day. Might not be revenge exactly, but felt like it.
In middle school, I had a bully/tormentor we’ll call Chuck. Chuck was about 2 years older than everyone because he’d been held back twice. Chuck was a monster. Huge kid (especially since he was an 8th grader in 6th grade), and regularly tortured half the class. He picked on me most often out of the group, but everyone despised him.

One day, after he grabbed me by the backpack and threw me against the lockers, I came home upset. My dad said “don’t worry about him. Guys like that will be changing your car’s oil one day.”
Fast forward a month or so, and we’re in art class.

Teacher leaves the room and Chuck starts laying into me and threatening to beat me up. I’d had enough so replied with something like “fine, Chuck. I don’t care. Beat me up. No one here will laugh at me because you’re bigger than all of us. You can beat up anyone in the room. Who cares? Do it. No one will give a damn.”

At this point the class started getting my back and laughing. Yelling insults at him. Still remember him looking panicked and saying “shut up, I’m sick of you talking. You’re stupid!” Since I had the support of the mob, I leaned into it and started telling him he was stupid, his parents hated him, he’d been held back twice because he was so stupid, etc.

Chuck was visibly shaking and about to start crying at this point. He had no power and the whole class was suddenly against him. So I went for the kill - “Don’t care you can beat us up, Chuck. You’ll be changing my oil one day.”

After repeating my dad’s line, I realized I fucked up. Chuck was about to beat the shit out of me... thankfully the teacher walked back in the room a few seconds later, saw the commotion about to start and sent him to the other side of the room.

Fast forward about 7-8 years. I was in my sophomore year of college and came home for the weekend. Took my car to the Jiffy Lube for an oil change. Everything was normal, but then Chuck walks into the lobby holding my car’s air filter. “Sir, this is pretty caked with dirt, do you want a new one?”I don’t think Chuck recognized me, but I realized he was literally the tech changing my oil. Seeing him as beaten down as he was, working in a hot fucking oil change shop in early summer made me feel horrible inside.

/lebowskiachiever12/

I had a girlfriend cheat on me, lie about it when I confronted her and gave her the chance to come clean and work through it, and stalk me after I broke up with her. We were quite young (17) so it was all very over dramatic, but I did love her a lot and was hurt by what she did.

At the same time I was very done and not interested in reconciling. She didn't get the hint.
I asked her nicely many times, then not so nicely, then demanded she fuck off. She would, for a while, but then she'd show up drunk and try and pick fights, insult me, and be sincerely hurtful. I eventually had enough, as you do.

I told a couple of choice people in her school (different to mine) what she'd done, with gory details (she'd sucked off her ex in his shitty car). Thought she'd get dragged for it and that would be that.

Well, turns out she was a bitch in all other aspects of her life, too. Apparently she was loathed at school, and people jumped on this news like starving beasts on fresh meat.

I had texts and IMs from people I didn't even know asking to confirm the news, which I ignored because I was really done with the whole situation by now.

I eventually heard from other friends at that school that people had not let it drop, and had even stuck posters around the school with pictures of her, announcing what she'd done, offering her um... services with her phone number, photoshopping bananas into her mouth, etc. It was brutal and she had to change schools in her final year.
I did feel a bit bad. If I'd known it would go that far I might have rethought telling those people.

At the same time, she hurt me badly, she refused to leave me alone despite months of chances, and the other students reacted so viciously because apparently she was a total asshole to everyone in the school, so... I don't know. I sure as hell didn't expect that, though.

/Lavrentiiy/

When I was young, there was always (for years) a hole in the back wall of our garage where bees were always flying in and out. I'd been stung several times over the years and I guess I got fed up with it. One day I decided it was a good idea to start throwing rocks at the hole, purely from anger at the bees(?).

Well, as you can guess, the bees weren't too happy about my activity and decided to put an end to it and came after me. an hour later I was in the ER in anaphylactic shock from the stings (I am now allergic to bee venom).

To set the stage a bit more, our garage wasn't attached to the house and was no longer used for cars. My dad had converted it to a lounge, complete with rotating mirrored multi-level liquor shelf/bar, pool table, shuffleboard table, couches, fully carpeted, nice sound system, nice pine paneling - full on 70s (yes, this was in the 70s) look.

Anyway, after coming home from the hospital 2 days later, I got it in my head that I wanted revenge on the bees. WCGW? This was towards the end of summer/early fall, and we had a 80+ foot eucalyptus tree that grew next to the garage near the hole, and as was typical for the time of year, the ground was covered with eucalyptus leaves.

I apparently decided it would be a good idea to pile leaves against the garage wall and smoke them out. It took me several hours to gather up the leaves, but eventually I got the pile up to the hole (which was about 5 feet from the ground) and started throwing lit matches at it.

The resulting fire not only could be seen for miles as it engulfed the 80+ foot tree, but the garage was decimated.

The external siding of the rear wall was nearly completely ashed, and the roof was pretty messed up as well, but the interior was completely trashed by smoke damage and then by the firefighting efforts. HUNDRED of bottles of booze, pool table, shuffleboard, couches, carpet, paneling - everything. And worse than just normal smoke, this was burnt honey. The smell lingered for years.
When the firefighters ripped open the wall to ensure no embers were still burning, they found the remnants of the hive. It was floor to ceiling, 7 studs wide. Thousands of dead bees.

The overall damage wasn't covered by my parents' insurance because the fire was intentionally set. Needless to say, I didn't see too much daylight after that for quite some time...

/HippyGeek/

Had a big group of friends from 13-18, when we were 17, one of them stole my girlfriend. To be fair, he legitimately knew we were going out, he got her drunk, and shagged her at a party. He knew I'd find out. Said to my face he didn't care. "Tough shit, mate."
It was her fault as well, of course. She wasn't passed out or anything like that. She'd been leading him on, and was sober enough to consent, if drunk enough to get over the social stigma of actually doing it.

So from that point on, our group of friends just cut this guy out of our circle. We stopped inviting him to stuff, if he tried to hang out, we told him to piss off. Mates that had been friends with him since Primary School just ignored him.

Initially, I was super proud of this show of solidarity from my bros. My best mate was actually dating my now ex-girlfriend's best mate, and he split up with her because of her attitude about the whole thing, trying to defend her friend to him, and make him hang out with them as a foursome.

So, first summer back from Uni, we're all 19-20. We see him in a local pub. I don't know what to do, decide to try and be cool about it, and go up to say hi. He tells me to fuck off. I guess he blames me for all his friends cutting him out of his life. I don't get the chance to explain that I in no way asked them to do that, they just did what they saw as the right thing.

Two weeks later, we're in the same pub, and I see his younger sister. She's 17 now, very, very attractive. I start a conversation with her about her brother, and how I feel bad about what we did. She says that it did really hurt him, but he's got some new friends now (mostly from Uni) and is still with my ex, despite a long-distance relationship over the Uni semesters. He won't talk to any of us old friends though, which I think is a genuine shame - he's known some of the guys since we were five.

One drink leads to another with this girl, and we end up back at her house. Her parents are away, her brother is staying at my ex's flat (she has her own flat - didn't go to Uni, got a job), so empty house is empty. We end up shagging. Next morning, her bro calls round just as I'm leaving. The look on his face as he works out what's happened. He goes from utter despair to absolutely mental in about half a second.

Eventually I just had to leave. His sister finally managed to explain to him that it was nothing to do with "revenge" or anything, and that I was genuinely sorry for how we treated him. I don't know if she told him the whole conversation we had about how I'd feel bad as I didn't want to upset him any more, and she convinced me to come back to hers by saying she was her own woman, could make her own decisions, and he wasn't due to be home at any time. If he hadn't have randomly turned up, I hope he'd have never known.

He still won't accept my facebook friend request though.

/EffityJeffity/

Have to go all the way back to second grade for this. So I'm not sure how it was at your elementary school, but in ours, birthdays were a big deal. Usually they involved the kid's parents coming in with sweets and goody-bags and everything. In my class there was a super annoying, devil-child which I am convinced was spawned by Satan himself. Let's call her Miley.Miley was as bad of a kid as there ever could be. Talking back to the teacher, never doing her work, insulting how poor she thought the other kids were, and resorting to physical violence against everybody - especially the other boys. She knew that she could get a pass just because she was a girl and for some reason the teacher never really seemed to pick up on how horrible she was. There was something particular about this little Hannibal Lecter though: lambs. She was absolutely obsessed with little white lambs. They were her favorite animal. She had them everywhere: bookbags, temporary tattoos, notebooks, t-shirts, etc.

Some of you can instantly see where this is going. Being from a Persian family, our diet consisted of a fair amount of lamb. And it was around this fact that my best friend at the time (let's call him Josh) and I hatched a plan. We'd both gotten sick of Miley, but my birthday was coming up. Instead of asking my mom to bring over cupcakes, (her usual routine) I asked my dad to cook some authentic Persian Kabab Koobideh so I could have my favorite meal at school. Being the only brown kid in my class I think I passed it off as a "cultural enrichment exercise".

The trap was set. On my birthday, we all stayed in for lunch and my dad brought over a huge tray of kabob. It was a huge hit. Kids were scarfing these things down like there was no lunch for the rest of the week. I distinctly remember looking over at Miley who had just finished her first one. Josh wanted to set the final stage of the plan into action but I held off. I wanted her to eat more. The best part? She was wearing a pink t-shirt with a picture of a lamb on it.

I remember thinking at the time why she hadn't asked anyone what meat it was (as it was obviously a red-meat). It now occurs to me that she just figures it's beef, and that to spare her feelings, her parents have never told her that people actually eat lamb.

We waited until she had eaten 3 kabobs. She pushed the paper plate away from her. Seemingly she was done with her meal. Josh and I launched the final stage. We both walked up close to her table and Josh asked me, "Say OP! That's some good kabob! How do you even make such a thing?" And in the most-obviously fake TV-announcer voice I could. I said, "Well it's easy! You just take a lot of beef, and an equal part of lamb meat, and mix it all together!" Miley's eyes got wider than I knew eyes could get. She turned and asked me what I said. Josh simply told her it was made from "that" and pointed to the little lamb on her shirt.

The reason why I regret this revenge choice so much is because in that moment, I still remember watching her soul crumble. As horrible as she was, she was still just a kid. Her eyes welled up immediately as she looked at the remains of her plate, then back down at her shirt. That's when the crying started. And when I say crying, I mean bawling. And when I say bawling, I mean inconsolable. She cried so loud I remember the teacher being mortified: shaking her by the shoulders and asking her what was wrong. She had no words. Just more tears.

At the time, I hate to admit, I was loving it. But now, all this time later, it still bothers me what I chose to do. You might think I'm being too hard on myself; afterall, she was never in physical danger like in the other stories on this thread. But what will always stick with me is the fact that this all happened around lunch.

She was whisked off to the office where, as I was leaving at 3pm, I could still hear her crying. And she was never the same after that either. Not as mean, sure. But I don't think I saw her smile even once for the rest of the year. Her family ended up moving away that summer. I'm sure it was unrelated but that just means I never saw her again.

/strangequark024/

Oh man this poor kid I used to work with at Wendy's... Kevin... He was a juvenile delinquent, he was a few years older than me, a little bit bigger than me, had nasty tattoos on his neck, and supposedly was out of jail on work release. He tried to be a tough guy and bully me whenever we worked together. Stuff like generally talking smack unprovoked, getting real real close up in my face, and that stance where you puff out your chest and pull your arms back like you're gonna swing. The most irritating thing was when he would walk right up in my face then flinch like he was gonna throw a punch at me, then just laugh and say some rude crap.I got along with just about everyone at work, and he did somewhat, but we just did not fit together. One day the exchanges between us were so apparent and obviously stressed, everyone working was talking about me fighting him. I dispelled these rumors as I wanted to keep my job - but my destiny on this day said otherwise.

First was the backdoor incident. The store had a large back door with a peephole in it, and it could only be opened from the inside. There was a buzzer outside that employees would push if they wanted back in. Well Kevin was locked outside and his patience while awaiting his re-entry had run out. Instead of tapping the buzzer, this guy was mashing it and holding it down while everyone inside went nuts. We were all busy and I was running to the back to grab some heavy boxes.

Holding these boxes I was gonna open the back door while I walked past. I tried to push on the door but it wouldn't open. I leaned into it but couldn't push much more cuz of the boxes I was holding. I was in a hurry so I yelled "GET BACK IM GONNA KICK THE DOOR!" he did not hear me over the loud constant buzzing. I gave that door a swift THIS IS SPARTA kick and it opened about 3 inches then bounced closed again. Wtf!?? I kicked it again and it opened, revealing a bashed and somewhat upset Kevin.

He had been trying to look in the peephole when I kicked the door. I had just broken the crap out of his nose. Like the tip was almost touching his cheek, bright red purple, swollen eyes, broken. He was pissed... Immediately I started apologizing and backing away from him, but he came at me like a rabid monkey. Quickly we were surrounded by employees and separated. I was told to go up front and manage fries, and to not come into the back part of the store until Kevin left to the hospital.

Then the final event, less than 10 minutes later... I was working the fries which entails grabbing a metal basket out of boiling hot oil and dumping the fresh fries into an adjacent tray. I was doing this and everyone around me was talking about how I just broke Kevin's face. On his way leaving our store for the hospital, he decided to come right up to me again and try to instigate a fight while I was dumping some fresh fries.

Kevin pulled his signature move of flinching at me like he was gonna throw a punch. I retaliated by returning my own flinch with the basket I was holding. I didn't actually hit him with an incredibly hot fry basket... But I forgot about the boiling hot oil still clinging to the basket. When I flinched at him and shook the basket, tiny flaming hot drops of grease splattered his face and neck.
I had just broken his nose on accident, then threw boiling hot oil on his face on accident.

Instant fight. On the ground. I'm a wrestler so his freshly broken and burned nose was just smashed and wiped across a dirty floor for a few seconds before it was broken up. He was an absolute mess. He left for the hospital, I got sent home.

That was it. No charges. No questions from my manager(s) after. No more being scheduled with Kevin. Not even any paperwork about 2 vicious assaults and fights in the same day. I felt really bad but simultaneously kinda justified. Both incidents were honest accidents which could have easily been avoided if he weren't such a jerk. I still felt like the outcome was worse than reasonable.

/Jasonxhx/

About eight years ago now, I had a fiancée who had moved from Wales to Scotland to be with me. She wasn't very happy at first, but I thought it was just nerves about being away from home, first time living with a partner, etc. Well she goes back to Wales about once a month, staying for a weekend at a time. I trust her, nothing suspicious about that.Cut to a few months later. We've been living together for about six months, few teething problems - a couple of arguments here and there - but on the whole I thought we were very happy together. Well.

One night we go out and get blazing drunk (as first year uni students are want to do). Come back to the flat, she passes out. I'm eating my takeaway when my phone buzzes. I check the text, and see some random guy saying "Babe, did you get home alright? Have you told him yet?". "Haha!" thinks drunk me, "Some arsehole has texted the wrong number!" And then I noticed the case on the phone.

I never had a pink case. My Fiancée did though... It took a few minutes for the realization to penetrate my drunken stupor, but when it did... Hoo boy. I read through all the messages. She'd been sleeping with a mutual friend of ours back in Wales, every time she went down there. Full blown affair, and that night, she was supposed to tell me everything, and end things with me so she could move back to Wales and be with him.

Have you ever been so angry a cold haze descends on you? I've heard of the red mist, but those texts took me to another, altogether more terrifying level of anger. I considered my options, and decided that texting him was the best option going forward. Which would have been bad enough, except...

Except this mutual friend of ours had recently been undergoing treatment for cancer. And in the cold fury that possessed me, I knew exactly what I had to say. I can't remember the exact body of the texts now. But it essentially boiled down to "You're a scumbag. You used your condition to emotionally blackmail her into being with you, and if anyone deserves to have cancer, it's you."

Needless to say, the next morning, those texts triggered what is perhaps the most volatile breakup I have ever endured. Full on screaming matches, her alternating between calling me despicable for what I said, and apologizing profusely for betraying me. It... was a strange time.

The "other guy" took it real hard. He spiraled into a depression, became real controlling of her (she moved back to Wales and moved straight in with him). I heard from other mutual friends that their relationship was really strained by the whole thing, because he couldn't shake the thought that what I'd said in a drunken rage was, even in some way, true.

Anyway, He survived, and they have three kids together, and they seem happy. But goddamn, for a while there, I genuinely thought I was gonna be the deciding factor in a cancer patients suicide.

/Ozymandian_Techie/

I had a roommate in college who started dating this girl, and consequently had her move in. He never consulted any of the rest of us about it. If he had we might have been cool with it, or at least come up with some compromise.
Our dorms were apartment style, and this girl only lived on the floor beneath us. We didn't even understand why she needed to move in when she was only 20 seconds away.

Anyways, she was just always in the way, using shit and eating shit that wasn't hers. My roommate and her would be super loud all the time (not just fucking, but just talking loudly and being obnoxious no matter what they were doing) and worst of all, she was like a fucking Wookie, and after they took showers together, the drain would be clogged and there would be 2 inches of gross Wookie sex water at the bottom of the tub.

I fortunately never had to deal with that because I was always up before them, but my roommate and BFF was always pissed about it.

Finally, we tried bringing it up with our roommate but he got pissed and super defensive about it. He just wouldn't talk to us.

The next day I left a note on his door saying I had emailed the head of housing about the issue, and we were going to have a meeting to discuss it.

This was total bullshit and a trap, I never emailed anybody. I knew that my roommate would send his own email to the head of housing to try and defend himself. Instead all he ended up doing was ratting himself out to the head of housing who was very confused.

The next day my best friend and I come back from the dining hall and the head of housing is there, and my roommate and his girlfriend are slowly and painstakingly having to carry all of her shit back from his room down to her room.

We sat there watching tv (while also enjoying the entertainment from what I had wrought) but I did feel kind of bad about it because they both looked pretty bummed out and it took them awhile and a lot of trips up and down the stairs to finish. No more dirty Wookie sex water in the shower though so I didn't feel THAT bad.

/LazerGuidedMelody/

Back in my early twenties, I was working a sh*t job in the mall. I'd only been working there for about a month when I was promoted to keyholder over a guy who started before me. The dude had been a real flake as long as I'd known him, so I wasn't surprised. Apparently, he'd been promised the position and was really upset at me.

For the next month, he was a huge d*ck to me. Swiping sales, complaining to the manager about me, "slyly" f*cking up cleaning projects or displays I had done and informing the manager that I'd failed to do something. After a full month of his bullsh*t, I eventually snapped.

At a few of the local plant nurseries, you can buy jars of ladybugs for ten bucks. I bought three, which was somewhere between two and five thousand ladybugs. I swiped his keys from the break room while I was on lunch, found his cute new Saturn, and dumped all three containers on the floor of his back seat.

We closed together that night, so we ended up waking out to the parking lot together after dropping the cash off at the deposit box. I was parked further out, so he got to his car before I did, and I was able to get a peek at my handiwork.

It looked like something from a horror film. The ladybugs had swarmed the entire inside of his car, and in the dim light, you couldn't really tell what they were - only that the car was full-on infested with bugs.

The dude had a f*cking breakdown right there in the parking lot. Just absolutely lost his mind. I enjoyed the scene at first, but the longer it went on, the worse I felt. After he calmed down enough to start making sense, he barreled into this monologue about how he was sure it was the girl from the pretzel stand because he'd been such a huge a**hole to her, and he starts crying. 

He goes on about how he deserves this for being so awful, and then apologizes to me for being such a d*ck, and keeps going on about how he brought this on himself. It was pretty bad.

I offered him a ride home, now feeling really guilty, and when I dropped him off, he thanked me for being so nice to him, despite all the awful stuff he'd done. He said his mother was undergoing cancer treatment, and it wasn't going well. Oof. He apologized again, and I didn't see him for a few days.

Sh*t between us at work improved a lot, but I still felt guilty as f*ck. He had to sell the car a few months later because the Texas heat had [slayed] all the ladybugs, and he couldn't get the smell of them out of the vehicle. His mom [passed] a little while after that, and he ghosted the job.

u/naturemage:

In high school (would be late elementary in the US, I guess) there was this kid who wasn't unpopular per se, but a little awkward. Last day before the summer holidays, he plays with us during the morning break. Things get a little rough and there's some light wrestling involved. Nothing too serious, no one got hurt except some red ears.

But the kid turned out to not be the silverback of our school yard. We walk back into class and continue the day as any other. Get on the bus home (he still being a little sour with the rest), start enjoying our summer holidays. Yay!
A week later my dad summons me into his study, fuming and enraged. He got a letter by the kid's dad according to which I had beaten the boy up so badly that he came home sniveling. According to the letter he was in so much pain that he could barely walk.

The letter laid out in detail how the boy would not be able to enjoy the family were going on the first day of summer despite his grave injuries. I was expected to better come up with one hell of an injury, because otherwise we'd get fire and fury from the police and their lawyers.

After some frantic back and forth shouting my father eventually believed me that I didn't, in fact, beat the guy up. My father wrote a conciliatory letter to try to work out what precisely had happened. The other family wasn't having that though, and began collecting statements from witnesses.

Turns out that several teachers stated in writing that the kid appeared to be completely fine throughout the entire day, did not appear to be in distress or pain, and had interacted with them and other students completely normal. Whoopsie. The other family concluded that there had been a misunderstanding.

I was pretty pissed at the guy because I seriously was expecting to get beaten up badly at home and be in a ton of trouble had this gone otherwise. So once school started I waited until our entire (male) class was assembled and then told the story with appropriate snark to the rest of the class - nasty snitch move. From that moment on that kid spent years at the bottom of the hierarchy and was the butt of every joke for a long time. That time must have been really shit for him.
I regret that deeply. Because the kid was actually genuinely nice (if a little awkward) and grew up to be a pretty decent adult. And to his credit, once school started he came to me and tried to explain the situation to me. The gist was that it were his overprotective parents who were the real trouble, not him. But I was so pissed because I could have gotten into so much trouble over nothing - just out of someone else's spite. But during the entire summer I hadn't even got an apology or any admission of wrongdoing and was left doubting myself.

There was also no attempt by the parents at getting us to talk to one another. That's deeply regrettable. I wish someone clever had helped us talk us through that situation.

/Megaflarp/

Caused a kid in middle school to go to the hospital.

He was a bully-type kid named Timmy. He didn't seem to want any friends, always picked on everyone and generally just seemed to hate everyone.
During recess, about half the class was playing "throw the ball back and forth." He made it his mission to intercept the ball and then kick/throw it away from everyone, sometimes on the roof.On one throw, the football bounced off his head during a missed intercept and I went over to get the ball and said "ha ha, you didn't get it!"

Well, Timmy launched into an uppercut and caught me right in the nose. The recess bell rang and he ran inside. Immediately following recess we had Art class together,.. where I would get my revenge on Timmy.

This week in Art we were working on clay sculptures. I started creating a sculpture of a tower, with a staircase that swirled around the base all the way up to the top. The thing is, I put one of those 3 inch Steel T Pins inside the base tower, pointing up.

Tim was walking by my table, and as planned I said "Hey Tim, I bet you won't smash my sculpture!" He took the bait. With a crooked smile, he raised his fist into the air. That's when time slowed down and I immediately regretted my trap, realizing that it was probably a bad idea.

It was too late. Tim slammed his balled fist down onto the table, smashing the clay sculpture. His face INSTANTLY turned ghost white and his eyes were wide open. It was so odd though, that he didn't cry out in pain, but only grabbed his hand and RAN.

He was out of school for a long time, I don't remember how long, but what I do remember is that when he got back he had a cast on his hand.
But he never said anything to anyone about it. Not to me, other kids, or teachers. Nothing happened to me, and I don't know why. Either he felt too stupid to say exactly what happened, or he figured I wouldn't get in trouble.

/PerpetualMonday/

My best friend and I had been playing practical jokes on each other for a year when I saw an ad for a small electronic device called an Annoyatron. It's a circuit board about the size of a matchbook and has a magnet to hold it in place on a metal surface. It randomly chirps or beeps and drives the victim crazy.

So my buddy (Mike) calls me and asks me to come over to his mobile home and help him install a wireless router so he can get on the internet for the first time (he's not a tech person). As we are setting things up he takes his dog out for a minute and I slip the annoyatron into a pocket door track and push it along the metal track so it is out of sight.

Unfortunately I don't hear it the rest of the time I am there. I call a mutual friend and he loves the idea and tells me he will let me know if Mike says anything about the beeping. I'm out of town for 2 weeks and no mention of the beep so I stop by Mike's place and again he takes the dog out and I rush to the doorway and pull the circuit board out and fiddle with the switches... it immediately buzzes and I slide our back in place and go back to sitting on the couch.

Mike comes back and as we are talking he grabs the TV remote and hits mute and says "did you hear that?" I play it cool and decide I better leave before I start laughing so I leave and head home. The next day our mutual friend calls and is laughing so hard I can't understand what he is saying. I finally understand the buzzing is driving Mike nuts so I give him a call.

He answers the phone and before I can say anything he says "I have to call you back, it's starting to rain and all my stuff is getting ruined". So I call the mutual friend and he explains that Mike has been hearing the buzzing going on for 2 days and he thought he had it tracked down to a dehumidifier in his gun safe. When that didn't end up being the cause of the noise, he ended up taking every device in his home that plugs in the wall or has a battery in it outside and laying it on the lawn.

So when I had called to check on him all of his electronics were outside and it had started to rain :/ The next day I called again and he answered real quick and said "sorry can't talk right now, I have an electrician here and he is trying to find the short in my wall" and hangs up.

I call him back and he explains the electrician has pulled all of the breakers from his panel and they still hear the noise so I ask him if the buzzing is really driving him mad and right then the electrician pulls the unit out of the door track. So he laughs at first and thinks it is funny but then he tells me his landlord paid for the electrician and I owe him the money for the service call.

The next day I call to see if he calmed down yet and ask about the cost of the electrician and he tells me when he explained the situation to the landlord he thought it was so funny he is not going to charge for the electrician :)

It took a few weeks but he finally forgave me. He tried pulling a stupid prank on me a few weeks later but it failed before he even got to spring the joke. We finally agreed it had gone too far and quit pulling pranks.

/Brokegunner/

This one wasn’t really a planned revenge, but it’s one I still feel guilty about whenever I think about it.
When I was a kid I was extremely easy to scare with jump scares, and I HATED them. I would always enter fight-or-flight mode whenever something jumped out at me, and then I’d be mad as hell afterward. When my buddies caught on to this they made it their business in life to jump out at me and scare me any chance they got. Despite my hate of being scared I was a HUGE fan of Halloween and I had a Halloween party every year either close to, or on, the big day.

Naturally this was the night when all my friends would do their damnedest to scare me so bad that I would bolt and run. They succeeded a few times when we were all under 9 years old, but something shifted in me the year I turned ten, and none of us knew it until it was too late.

As usual I had my big Halloween party, as usual all my buddies were there, and as usual one of them wanted to try and scare the pants off me. About midway through the evening I went down the hall to use the restroom and while I was in there my friend (I’ll call him Aaron) scampered down the hall after me and hid in a darkened doorway.

I came out of the restroom, started down the hall, and Aaron jumped out at me and grabbed my arm. Ordinarily something like this would have made me bolt like a little chickenshit, but for some reason that night the Flight side of my Fight-or-Flight got turned off. The moment he grabbed me I whirled and punched him square in the face without even thinking about what I was doing.

It was all pure instinct and after impact I realized what I’d just done and freaked out. Aaron wrenched his mask off and was clutching his face and groaning (or so I thought) and I yelled for my dad, concerned I had really hurt my friend. My dad and all my other friends came running down the hall to find out what had happened, my dad flipped on the hallway light, and what greets us? Aaron with his face covered in blood. I am instantly horrified, thinking I busted his nose, but as I’m spewing apologies to him I begin to realize he’s not groaning, he’s laughing.

He grabs me by the hand I’d punched him with and yells “What’re you apologizing for?! That was freakin’ awesome!” and he yanked my hand up over my head like I was a boxing champ and starts telling everyone how cool it was of me to just haul off and slug him.If you haven’t guessed, Aaron was a pretty cool kid. He thought it was great that I’d suddenly found the courage to defend myself. My dad helped get him cleaned up (though he insisted on keeping his now bloody costume on) and inspected his nose. Thankfully it wasn’t actually broken but I still feel a wave of guilt when I remember the sight of his face covered in blood, and remember the feeling of my fist hitting him in the schnoz. 

I’ll always be grateful to him for handling it so well, and encouraging me for standing up for myself, but I still feel so guilty about decking him that I can’t even imagine how I would feel if I had actually broken his nose.

/The5Virtues/

Our history class teacher in high school really sucked. Sometimes she rambled around reminiscing in the past and not really teaching us anything useful, while other times she would grill people with questions until they got something wrong.

Grading was somewhat arbitrary with two girls always getting good grades without doing anything, one quy getting constantly grilled and always receiving bad grades and another dude who's German wasn't as good as the others constantly getting corrected in a demeaning way.

It got so bad that we had an arms race with history books. Since it was the advanced history course we already had four books, but one student had recently transferred from another school which had THE perfect book. Perfect for surviving the grilling sessions. Everyone else also got the book to be able to answer her questions as quickly and accurately as the transfer student could as to not look unprepared in comparison.
Fed up with that kind of treatment we created the ass card ("Arschkarte") rewarded to the student that became her victim of the day. I created elaborate statistics for who got it when and how bad they got grilled and we always had a good laugh. Come graduation and the final yearbook: TIME FOR REVENGE.

The entire two pages for the advanced history course class of 2008 consisted of comedically mocking her bad teaching skills, the chaotic lessons, stupid things people said and of course the detailed version of my ass card statics, honoring the Ukrainian guy and thee other dude for their insane collection of ass cards.

After submitting our page my phone rings a week later and it's the student tasked with layouting the book. The principal, which was also our advanced history teacher, wants the ass card statics removed. She deemed them hurtful and disrespectful for the people getting the most cards.

I am furious, who can she not understand that they wanted that statistic because they felt so mistreated. In my anger I just put a huge black box where the ass card article would have been with a white text rambling about how we are being censored by the school and how authorities censoring the free speech of an advanced history class is spitting in the face of what teaching history in Germany is all about. My class all sign off on the text, the Ukrainian dude even sharpens the wording and we send it back to the layout guy.

The next day the phone rings and it's my teacher/principal on the line, in tears, crying. She said how stressful the last year was being announced as temporary principal, being one year away from retirement and teaching history being her life, she was devastated by what she read and didn't want her entire legacy tarnished by what we wrote.
I felt incredibly shitty and broke the news to the rest of the class. We all agreed that while the course was a nightmare, we weren't shitty enough people to pull through with the whole thing. The article was changed and everyone was fine with the way we changed it. I still have the original and censored version on my computer for old times sake. Ass card champions your hardships will never be forgotten!

/GeneralCusterVLX/

In school i had this 'friend', im calling him DH for dickhead. So DH and I for the most part were friends, copied homework from each other and shared lunch. About a month before our breaks for our exams a text book of mine went missing,

I looked everywhere for that book, and 3 weeks before I decided to get a photocopy of the lessons, so I asked DH for his book but he wasn't in class so I went through his bag, and found the book. I was looking through it and realized a) His index was torn out and b) there was tip ex on the margins which covered writing, and c) the dumbass had scribbled on my writing to write his name, I took the book and confronted DH.

The guy begged and pleaded to me to not tell our teacher because that would probably get him suspended or something, I was seething but I thought I got my book back and he's sorry about it so no harm done, I told him I wouldn't tell our teacher.
Back at home, and i was thinking about the whole situation and realised that the fucker was going to let me fail. That enraged me and so I cooked up a plan.

Next day, I took our class toppers social studies notebook and snuck it inside DHs bag before we left for the bus. Few days before the break, during our lunch break i see our class topper freaking out, so I ask her what's wrong, she says she lost her notebook and I tell her what happened with me and that it's probably with DH.

It was beautiful, she stormed to his bench, took his bag and went through it before finding her copy, slapped him and called him a bunch of creative names all in front of a full class. This much I counted on happening, what I didn't count on was the DI ( disciplinary incharge) patrolling the halls and seeing the whole thing.

He walks in just as the lunch break gets over, calls DH and our class topper, they leave. 15 minutes later I get called to the principal's office. I know why, I take my book and leave. In the principal's office I see, our class teacher, the DI, Principal and Vice principal.

'Did DH take your book?' the DI asked me, 'yes sir' I reply and show him the book. 'He tore out my index page, wrote over my notes, and put tip ex on my book so I wouldn't recognise it'. 'why didn't you tell anyone?' ' because i found it in his bag and he said he was sorry, i didn't think he'd have taken someone else's notebook too'. They told me to leave with the CT and return to class.
Next day, I found out that DH has been suspended for the rest of the week and would not be able to give his exams. It gets worse, this was a term exam which counts towards the final grade, because he had to miss it, he ended up repeating the grade.

/Slaisa/

When I was a kid, maybe 7 or 8 years old, I lived in an apartment building right next to a small forest. Right in the middle of this forest, there was a huge empty dirt pit that me and my friends would run and bike around in. In the winter the pit would fill with ice and make a little frozen pond that we would run around on. It was awesome.
It was like this for about 2 years, until these shitty older kids discovered the pit. My friends and I were probably around 10 years old at the time when the high schoolers invaded. They basically kicked us out of the entire forest and told us to never come back to that pit, because it belonged to them.

A few months go by and me and my friends start to formulate a plan for revenge. We were all pretty dumb to tell you the truth, most of the plans were like "let's release a million ants into the pit" or "let's fill the pit with dirt so it's not a pit."

Well we finally decided to just go to the pit and tell the older kids that it was our pit first and we wanted it back, but when we got there, it looked completely different. There were some couches, and baseball bats, and beer cans all around, but the highschool kids weren't there, so we decided to get even with them.... By lighting the couch on fire.

And that's exactly what we did. We set the couch on fire and we all ran home to our apartment buildings. We were close enough to the forest that we could see the fire, and the fire trucks as they pulled up.

That was one of the scariest things I'd ever seen in my life. I thought the firemen were going to find me and take me to a special blacksite where I'd live for the rest of my life.

Now, luckily, the counch was in the center for the pit which was super far away from any trees or bushes or shrubs, so the forest did not catch fire. Thank god. And those kids never went back into the pit. We had claimed it as our own once more.
A few years later they cut down that entire forest to build a mall. It was a huge bummer, but we had a lot of great memories of running around that forest, chasing squirrels and rabbits, and playing hide and seek.

God I miss being a kid.

/TheWombGoof/

Gather round and hear my story of two-fold betrayal, of love lost and found, and of furnishings absconded with. Hear and judge for yourself who is the biggest shitbag in this tale: the drunken flirt "J," her long-suffering friend "T," T's Nickelback-loving douchesloop of a bf "Jizzstain" - or perhaps even your very own OP.
A decade and some change back, my gf J and I were teenagers living free and easy in a one-bedroom apartment. In spite of having heroically overcome significant assholery on both sides (let's be honest, much more on my side) our relationship was circling the drain. Her horizons were much broader than mine anyway.

Well, one fateful night we had a little get-together with some friends. There was booze involved, as there often is. And as often happens when booze is involved, the booze ran out. The store was about two blocks away and we rallied the troops to sally forth, but there were two lollygaggers.

My dear J, and T's relentlessly seedy bf, Jizzstain both declined to join us, electing to stay behind. Just the two of them. Alone.

Now my friends, I know you're all world-weary and very little surprised by anything these days, so I expect you can tell where this is going. Thankfully, I experienced nothing so uncomfortable as walking in with my friends on some indecorous scene in the middle of my apartment.

No, my precious J was kind enough to wait to confess her indiscretion until later that evening, as I was vomiting into the remarkable acoustics of my toilet. Apparently, they just had some kisses.

A few days later we'd talked things over, and some other stuff had happened as well. Ultimately I decided to tell J that I thought we'd be better off as friends; she took it as well as might be expected. Within a day of that conversation, she'd moved out. Most of the apartment went with her, but it was all her stuff.

After some deliberation, I resolved to tell T about the incident between J and Jizzstain so she could make up her own mind about how to handle the impact on her relationship. They weren't in the best of shape either (as evidenced by her fuckstick bf macking on my gf) and this basically stuck a fork in it for them, too.

T and I decided to get together to rant and sympathize and console each other, and long story long we decided the only appropriate response was to fuck like rabbits for the next few weeks. Also, T moved out of the place she had with her now-ex and gave me all the furniture. She left him one busted ass Ikea chair I think.

/dreamofadream/

Years ago I worked for a store that sold pet supplies as a low level manager. One of the employees I was responsible for had a massive ego and superiority complex. She was convinced she was more qualified to answer questions/give recommendations than the rest of us. Surprise though: she absolutely was not.

It got to the point where she interrupted me in front of the store's owner and gave awful advice to a customer. He was having none of it and explained that if she ever did anything like that again she would be out the door.

After he left she hid in the break room crying and refused to come out to do her job. I sent her home for the day and stayed for what ended up being a 12 hour shift in order to do her closing procedures.
That night I hatched a revenge plot. While no one in the store really liked her because of her attitude, one lady out right hated her. That woman was also one of my senior associates who knew the store as well as I did.

The next day I tell problem child that from now on she will be shadowing this stellar employee when she isn't with me, basically putting training wheels on her professionally and more or less humiliating her.

Apparently this was the straw that broke the camel's back for problem child because a few days later my good employee comes to me and tells me she can't find the girl anywhere. I finally find her in the parking lot sitting in her car and she is twitchy and agitated as hell.

She refuses to come back in the store and instead launches into a tirade about how the two of us are picking on her and how nothing she ever does is good enough et cetera. Meanwhile she has this manic agitated energy about her I've only ever seen one time before, when my cousin was on amphetamines.

So I tell her to go home again because I can't have her at work like this, and while I'm not a narc I have to call my boss and tell him because he's going to see I'm pulling another 12 hour day and going to want to know why. Needless to say he loses it, as a very conservative religious man he makes it his goal to remove this girl at all costs.

He files a police report and gives them our security footage, our statements as witnesses, and her home address. Apparently whatever they found at her house was enough to charge her with because we never heard from her again. She didn't even come in to get her last check.

/Hexeva/

When I was about 14 a new kid moved in a couple of streets away. He was always coming up to me and my friends and would forcibly join in our games.
He never waited to be invited to play with us and he never asked if he could join in. In fact most times he barely spoke to us. But when he did speak he was always exaggerating and just really irritating.

I remember he'd often get told to get out of the way, stop saying with us, nobody wants him there, and just to generally piss off, etc. He never Listened and just carried on like we were all best mates.
Looking back the poor kid likely had some mental and / social issues (aspergers / autism).

Anyway, one day me and a friend were walking past his house. It was on the corner of a street, and was on the way to the park. There were other routes to the park but this was the shortest route. Plus, we knew he got really wound up if we walked past his house. So, why not!

On this occasion he was playing in the garden and started giving out insults and general complaints about us being near his house. Both sides were giving it out, and he was getting worked up and being very verbal. At the back of his house the driveway cut into the land and the fence was lower so we walked up the drive and stood at the fence giving him grief.

Next thing he launches into full on zombie rage mode and starts throwing large stones at us. Somehow I managed to catch one and instinctively throw it back at him. At this point he turns around screaming for his Dad, and heads to the door. {Causing trouble then screaming for his psychotic Dad was a common tactic for him. He'd plead all innocent, and Daddy would go all Hulk Smash!}

So this large stone is now flying through the air at speed, and.... WALLOP! It hit him on the back of the head and he goes down like a sack of spuds. Me and my friend both look at each other and split up heading to our homes at full speed.

Hours later the Dad is pounding on my front door in full on Hulk Smash mode scaring my parents to death, telling them how I attacked Hulk's poor little innocent baby boy. And, that he'd apparently had to go to hospital and have 10 stitches put in the back of his head.
To make things worse I had to go around to baby annoyance and Hulk Dads house to apologies to to the little shit!

/JuanPablo2016/

Okay, long-winded reply and I'm probably going to get downvoted to hell for being a shitty human being but the man asked a question so I'll try to answer it honestly. Grew up in a small village, and my mom was the unofficial village bike (as in everyone and their mums' had had a ride), so I naturally got a lot of shit in High School about her whorish ways.

There was this guy in the same friendship group, I'll call him Jay, who everyone found irritating but (being shitty 15 year olds) was tolerated by some members because he had a lot of money and was generous with giving friends handouts.

Everyone there didn't like Jay, I don't think anyone ever had anything positive to say about him that didn't involve money, but no one (out of pity or because they were after his open wallet) actually told him to just piss off.

Anyway, one day he brings this massive backpack full of alcohol round to a mutual friend's house and (once again, shitty 15 year olds) is hailed as King of Booze for the rest of the night, this makes Jay's head swell and at some point he decides that he's tip-toed his way into the group far enough to start ripping on my mom's overactive sex life.

At that age, I didn't even like my close friends' bringing it up, so I especially didn't like it when Jay the fucking incarnation of popped-collar, YOLO-SWAG started outpouring a torrent of diarrhea-tier 'your mom's a slag' comments.

Told him to fuck off, for the next ten minutes he did not fuck off, and the longer it went on, the more desperate Jay was to get to me so the cruder the jokes were becoming. As a last ditch, he mentioned something about buying my mom and my little sister (who was 12 at this point) in a 2-for-1 deal, and I just lost it, I outright told him that no one wanted him there, no one liked him, that some of the guys only bothered to put up with him for his money, and how low is his self-esteem if the only friends he can get are a bunch of people who relentlessly character assassinate him and he still hands them out a load of money in the hope that they'll eventually like him.

Jesus Christ, I'll never forget the look on Jay's face. It was fucking awful. He looked like I'd physically slapped him, pretty sure he was tearing up too. Nobody laughed and nobody defended him or told me to leave off, they just tried desperately to avoid eye-contact and act as if he wasn't sitting there on the verge of crying.

Jay just sat there for a good ten seconds in silence, then slowly got up and left. As far as I know, he didn't talk to anyone in the group again (good for him, it was a toxic group tbf) and I've not seen him since because he went to a different school and it was a friend of a friend type of situation.

Every time I think about it, I feel sick. I just know he won't ever forget that for the rest of his life (I know I certainly won't). I wish I'd just kept my mouth shut. It didn't matter what he said about my mom, I shouldn't have humiliated him like that. So yeah... watch what you say because you can't take it back.

/Gavin-from_Autoglass/

India, especially rural India, still has a persistent caste problem, even though it is constitutionally outlawed. People like to deny it, but it's still very much present in the collective consciousness. Think of it like racism in the USA, but more complex, with multiple castes, subcastes, and sub-sub castes involved.
I'm from the 'lowest' caste that was (and in cases where the lower caste and lower class intersect, is still) forced to clean sewage, and clean the streets of animal carcasses and the like. I, personally, or my family, are not as unfortunate, because we are moderately middle class and can afford to live in affluent areas in towns/cities.

I was a fifth grade kid, and I aced every class upto that point, and even after that, for practically my whole school life. So ten-year-old me couldn't fathom why one of my closest friends who always used to share my lunch suddenly stopped one day, and wouldn't even eat with me anymore. In retrospect, I had seen some other kids from the class whisper something in my friend's ear just that day.

At least for the next few months, these kids were wary of being around me, and seemed to murmur to each other when I'd pass by. I knew they were making fun of me, but I didn't know why - in my own little mind then, one that didn't understand the sociopolitical dynamics of a system as entrenched in the India psyche as caste,

I was not inferior to any of them in any way. In fact, I was superior to them in almost all ways (except perhaps in PE). Over the course of that year, I got to learn about what caste is and how my friend stopped eating with me just because I was born to a certain set of parents.

One fine day, I was passing by the mound of construction sand in the playground where the kids used to play during recess, and one of the kids said something along the lines of "Hey look, it's the extremely bad caste-based slang here" (think 'mudblood' from HP). Moreover, this was said by one of the kids I considered my friend.

Looking back at it, this was one of the few times in my whole school life that someone was able to get me angry. I'd had months of ostracization, and I wasn't having literal slang thrown around at me.
I went to where the kids were standing, and tried to do something I'd seen in a movie - that thing where you make a person keel over with your foot and bash their head into the ground with your hand - and whaddaya know - I was actually able to do it.

Thankfully, it was near the sand mound so the kid only got his face stuck in and full of sand, but he seemed like he was in bad shape when he got up, and ever since, it's one of those incidents where I think I acted too impulsively. None of those kids called me using slang anymore, though, and thankfully as we grew up, they learned that being casteist - just like being racist - at least openly, is frowned upon.

[redacted]

This is going to make me look like a terrible person, but here goes. We were freshmen in HS in gym class. This girl, we'll call her J (because I don't actually remember her name), obviously had a crush on me and wouldn't leave me alone.
Some days it was fine, I would do something she wouldn't do, like play basketball or whatever, but some days she'd go running around the track with me and the guys or hang out and read/do hw by the bleachers. But gym was the only time I really saw J.

One day J had just pushed me too far. She asked me a lot of personal questions and wanted to know what I was looking for in a girl. So I developed a story to tell her on the spot. We walked over to the racquetball court, where nobody went for some reason, and began "pouring my heart out" to her.

I told her about this girl I've been dreaming about, how I feel like I see her all the time, between classes, across the cafeteria at lunch, but how I always have very little time to talk to her. I told her how beautiful this girl is, and vaguely described her to the point where I knew J thought I was talking about her.

I told her how I planned to ask this girl out, but I was too shy, too afraid of rejection. She spoke for the first time during this encounter, asking if there was any way she could help and maybe the feeling was mutual. As I saw her confidence building, I knew I should end this charade. I said something to the effect of, nah you wouldn't know her; besides she's not at school today.

She pushed me away and took off crying. One of her friends came running to me asking what happened. I said how should I know?

The next few days were weird. Groups of girls who knew J would stop and stare as I walked past. The few times I saw J she was with a group of her friends who would basically block her out of my view. The few times we locked eyes, she looked terrible.

This all happened towards the end of the school year. Out of the last month she maybe attended class 4 or 5 times, that I saw. Eventually the year ended and I asked a mutual friend about J. They told me she was really depressed and convinced her parents to move, and ended up going out of the state.
That was over 10 years ago and I haven't heard anything since. The times I've told the story, less so now, I just feel like a total asshole.

/LordKwik/

I was in either my Junior or Senior year of high school (sorry, I was on a lot of drugs). I’d been doing this on again, off again thing with the same girl for a couple years.

I had this problem where I couldn’t stay faithful because I was a piece of human refuse who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her, and she had some issues as well (most of the realizations I had about her came in retrospect) but the gist was that she’d dump me for playing hide the pickle with someone else and find solace with another guy (y’know, attempt to move on) and I’d get all butthurt and make promises I’d keep until I didn’t feel like it anymore.

So, we’ve split for whatever reason (it’d been about a month) and she’d started talking to another guy. In an attempt to (I’m assuming) make me jealous, she tells me she gave the dude a hummer on their date. I flip out, internally of course, (gotta keep it cool, right?) and go on a bender. At some point during said bender I managed to get her over and sweet talk her into giving us another shot. She puts me on a “probationary period”.

During said period there’s various rules I’m supposed to follow. The only relevant one is not to get intoxicated without being around her. Probably because “I was fucked up” was my go to excuse for douchebaggery. Anyways, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, I didn’t follow said rule.

I go to a party. I get trashed at said party and the Xanax & Jaeger cause my inner douchebag to boil to the surface & my butthurt to flare up something fierce. I want revenge to quell the butthurt. I flirt with woman I’ve been messing with during the break up with my ex. I receive a blowjob. Blowjob feels good. Blowjob feels great. Blowjob feels weird. Blowjob hurts. I excuse myself from blowjob. Blowjob giver is smiling, very...curiously?

I check myself in the bathroom. I have a bruise on the tip of my penis. I confront blowjob giver, she’s having drinks with her friends. I say, “there’s a hickey on my dick. Marking your territory...heh-heh?” “Yeah. I’d kill a bitch if she fucked you.”

I go home and google ways to cover hickeys. They don’t work. I tell my gf the “new wooden toilet seat” bounced back during morning wood and left a bruise. She acts like she buys it. I show up to her house. She seems cool. She’s wearing lingerie. She asks to see the bruise. I pull out my penis. She jumps my bones and tells me to remove my clothes, I oblige. She takes me upstairs.

We make out. She excuses herself to the bathroom. She’s gone a long time. I can smell someone grilling out, it smells nice. She returns to the bedroom. She informs me that she’s been in contact with the woman who gave me the hickey. She informs me that my clothes are currently burning in her grill. She hands me my car keys, my phone & her frilly pink robe if she can take a picture. Her house was near a school. She got the picture.

As for it hitting her really hard, when I got sober and made amends I got to see it. I left her with a metric fuck ton of baggage. She gave me an earful, and rightfully so. Not only was the revenge shitty, she didn’t even deserve it. Also, I was a dick to that other woman, too.

/DkKing788/

Back when I was young, sometime in early high school, there was this kid, let's call him Brad, who would try to get two boys to fight each other in a boxing match in the upstairs of his parent’s spare garage (just now realizing how wealthy the kid’s family was).

He would goad the two into being mad at each other by lying to them about mean shit the other one had said about the other, then get them to put on boxing gloves while he and his friends watched. Weird, sick amusement over the suffering of other people.
I had grown up with Brad, but never ended up very close with him. Still I was around enough in this small town/school that even I had heard of this boxing thing. One day, Brad invites me over and he hadn’t invited me over in what felt like years. I declined thinking it was related to this boxing thing and I didn’t want to fight anybody nor watch anyone fight, so I told him.

He called me stupid and threatened me if I told anyone about it. Of course he was a buff wrestling jock (who we later found out was using steroids ...but his lactating nipples are another story) and I was a small sad art kid; so the threat took and I didn’t tell anyone about the boxing matches.

Oddly enough, the next week another kid approached me, let’s call him Matt. Now, I didn’t have a lot of friends (being a quite boy who cries at sad moments in High School doesn’t make you very popular) but I got along with Matt. Well, strangely Matt is pissed at me without explanation.

I put two and two together and tell him Brad is a liar who is just trying to get us to fight for his amusement. He doesn’t believe me, of course, and continues trying to start shit with me in gym class. He shoves me and I fail one last time to diffuse the situation.

At this point I’m fed up. Tired of dealing with all my family shit just to come to school and deal with some manipulative asshole’s mindless minions, while trying to get good enough grades so I can leave this small town behind permanently and never see these peoples again.
Matt shoves me again and I snap. I’m about six inches shorter than this guy, so I grab his neck, throw a foot behind him, knock him down and start kicking him. I kick and kick and kick while screaming at him until someone pulls me off and the teacher intervenes.

I think eventually Brad got in trouble, but Matt had broken ribs and wasn’t in school for awhile. I always felt bad, kind still do, that I got revenge on the wrong person, someone who was just another victim to the school bully.

/sleepyEyedLurker/

I was in fourth grade. We had a class party right before spring break and I got this little ragdoll bunny at one of the arts and crafts stations at the party and immediately fell in love with it, as children are wont to do.
That afternoon, I rode the bus home (as I normally did). I live in Minnesota, and it was March so there was slush everywhere. My bus stop was at the end of the street, and I had to walk down to my house with this third grade kid Evan who lived maybe five houses down from me and was a total brat.

But on this particular day I barely even noticed him because I had a little Mad Libs pad that I was filling in. The bunny toy was tucked under my arm so I could hold it and write stuff down into the pad at the same time.

I was completely absorbed in Mad Libs, so when Evan grabbed my bunny from under my arm I didn't notice for a couple seconds. When I did, he was dangling the bunny above a particularly muddy puddle. I screamed and told him to give it back.

He didn't because he was an asshole. Instead he dropped it into the puddle and stomped on it, which to me was the ultimate insult.

At the time I was a skinny, short, and introverted kid, and Evan was pretty big for his age, so even though I was older he managed to keep the bunny out of my reach. I knew I'd never manage to overpower him physically, so instead I stabbed him with my sharp little Mad Libs pencil.

Honestly in retrospect I barely even scratched him- I don't think it even broke the skin. But he was so pissed about it that he dropped the bunny and bolted off crying to my house so he could ring my doorbell and tattle to my mom.

My mom wasn't all that great of a parent during that time- she was a stay at home mom with a temper and I was an ADHD mess who forgot literally everything. So this threat was scary enough to me that I ran after him, yelling apologies, willing to do anything to keep him from telling my mom.

Luckily Evan's mom saw him running down the street past his house (with me, crying, in pursuit) and opened the door to ask him what the hell was going on. My mom DID get told what happened and it didn't go as bad as I thought it would, but man, for a good ten seconds I was full of deep regret. In hindsight, he deserved it.

/lesbianpoisonivy/

When I was in elementary school our playground had an old set of monkey bars that was away from the newer jungle gyms. Not many people cared for it because it was just four log posts with metal rods. I loved it though and spent many recesses before sitting on top of it with my best friend.

One day I was at the monkey bars as usual. A few other kids were there as well, one of them was a girl I considered my friend. She was with another boy who decided it would be funny to push people. People asked them to stop and they would just laugh and do it again. I was mad that my friend was pushing me even when I asked her to stop. I wasn't physically hurt, but my feelings were.

Growing up I wasn't usually confrontational with others. Half of me was upset, but the other half just wanted to fit in and thought if thats how they want to play, then I'll do it too. I went up behind the boy and pushed him. He fell but was okay. Instead of laughing, he was angry at me. Thats when it changed from trying to fit in to getting my "revenge". It wasn't fair that they could push others but didn't like to be pushed themselves. I was going to stick up for myself and show them both what it felt like.

Next was the girl. Thats where things went horribly wrong. I pushed her just like I did the boy. She fell a lot harder than I thought she would, but unlike the boy she didn't get up. She cried and cried but wouldn't get up. What happened next is a blur. Teachers ran over and surrounded her. We were told to stay back.

Another teacher took my class to her room. She tried to distract us by reading a story but that didn't cover up the sounds of the ambulance. I could hear the kids whispering, trying to find out what happened. I felt like everybody was talking about me. I wanted to tell them it was an accident. I mean for things to happen this way. Instead I just sat there quietly, full of guilt, wondering what was going to happen next.

When I went home that day my mother asked me how school was. Thats the first time I ever lied to her. To this day I don't know if the school ever called her to let her know what happened. Later that week we made "get well soon" cards. It was February and I had special heart shaped confetti that I glued onto mine. When someone asked if they could use them too I told them no. Mine had to be extra special. She has to know that I'm sorry and didn't mean it.

What felt like an eternity later, she finally returned to school. Everybody wanted to talk to her to find out what happened. She told them how she broke her neck and spend time in the hospital. When I couldn't avoid her anymore she told me that I was going to pay for what happened and her parents were going to sue me.

So fuck that. Fuck nobody else intervening when she was pushing other kids. Fuck sitting in a room wondering if she was going to be okay. Fuck me feeling like I had to lie to my mother about school that day. Fuck using my favorite heart confetti for her get well card. Kids can be mean and accidents happen.

The monkey bars are now long gone and now me and that girl talk about which kind of apple juice we give our own kids. The incident hasn't been brought up since elementary school and we have grown up and moved on. She didn't deserve to have her neck broken and I didn't deserve to live in guilt over an accident.

/Extrematity/

My little sister was a major pain in the ass when we were younger, and a bully. I was basically a twig growing up, no strength, but this kid... Despite being 6 years younger than me, this kid was a MONSTER. She did push-ups for fun, was built like a wrestler, and had an insane temper.

Her favorite thing to do was beat me up. She was literally the most aggressive kid I've ever met, and could easily knock me on my ass and get me in a chokehold when she was mad.

Obviously, being that I was 6 years older than her and she was half my height, everyone thought this was absolutely hilarious, so she never got in trouble for it and it pissed me off. When my sister was about 7 she got a skateboard for her birthday. She had no idea how to ride it but she liked to pretend she did.
One day we were outside with some of my family and she was standing on the skateboard, just kinda rolling back and forth. She started acting bratty towards me and without thinking, I pushed the skateboard with my foot to scare her. I severely misjudged how hard I'd pushed it and she went flying backwards as the skateboard shot forwards.

Important thing to note here: my sister has had back issues her entire life. The lower part of her back is extremely sensitive, to the point where getting tapped there can sometimes make her tear up. The pain can be so bad it makes her legs go numb, make it hard for her to move/breathe etc. It's basically excruciating.

And she went down hard. Flat on her back. And didn't get up. My mom jumped up to help her and after a few seconds she started making this shuddery breathing noise. She couldn't move and she said her legs were numb. THEN she started crying. I just stood there looking like a major asshole, ready to face the wrath of my mother. I felt awful and I had no intention of actually making her fall.

She ended up being okay, thank god. At the time I didn't realize how serious it could've been. We found out later that she has a severe spinal deformity.

She literally has no tailbone. There's nothing protecting the nerves at the bottom of her spine, or her actual spinal cord, and if she got hit hard enough there she could end up with severe nerve damage or even paralysis. That's without considering she could've cracked her head open on the cement.

Basically I spent my childhood tormented by my pint sized rage monster sister and got back at her by almost killing her/paralyzing her for life. 👍🏻

/ae____/

I and a few friends had a landlady who was a complete bitch. (I will refer to her as The Groke). Not in a spectacularly mean fashion, but petty and consistent attempts at squeezing additional money out of her tenants.

We rented a very large house and were subjected to various unexpected charges: Power bills were twice the amount expected, this information was often withheld until the last possible moment, regular "wear and tear" was attempted pulled from the security deposit, minor repairs caused by us (and promptly fixed) were attempted ballooned into something much more expensive. There was a fair number of angry emails and unannounced visits with accusations of some imagined wrongdoing. There were also a few threats of lawsuits unless we paid these claims.

Thankfully, a few of us were sufficiently aware of the local laws that we managed to dodge most of this trouble. It did cost us quite a bit of time, effort and heartache to avoid the worst of the shitstorm, however. I expect that most of her tenants just paid to get rid of the trouble. We attempted to get the local authorities' attention about some blatant tax evasion she was performing, but apparently it was too much "small fish" material for them to take the trouble to gather evidence.

Anyway, we promptly forgot this for about a decade. Then suddenly news comes around that The Groke has been hit by economic catastrophe. You see, the house in question was large, expensive and centrally located in an area that experienced a massive real-estate boom. Losing money on this investment should be impossible, even if you'd just left it empty for ten years. However, The Groke managed this with gusto.

After, I presume, a decade or so of renting out this house to university students and exploiting their naiveté to charge them more than the agreed rent, The Groke and her business partner decided to renovate the house. They did this without getting the necessary permits, as the house was antique and subject to some very strict regulations against changes in style.

I can only guess that someone else she'd wronged reported her, because the infringing renovations were on the inside of the house. After they'd gutted the house, the authorities arrived on an unannounced inspection. The Groke and her cronies were ordered to return the inside of the house to its original condition. Having gutted the house, they'd killed its re-sale value and were unable to secure additional loans for reversing the renovations. At the same time, some illegal and amateur-performed digging works on the property caused a neighboring driveway to collapse in the steep terrain.

Being in the neighborhood of the city political elite, The Groke was promptly hit with daily fines to the tune of ~$5000 until the driveway was fixed, but of course had no cash to actually perform this work. (These fines would likely not have been given in the case of a less well-connected neighborhood, although they were perfectly legal).

Long story short; our unfortunate protagonist ended up divorced, lost this $3 million property and actually ended up in the weird, Communist-inspired form of multi-year "voluntary" (consenting) economic slavery that is required to legally declare personal bankruptcy in this part of Europe: All income above a certain limit for a number of years is confiscated to pay off extreme debts, at the end of which these debts are cleared. She ended up not just ruined, but also almost-destitute for a long time. (This part of the world doesn't allow its inhabitants to starve or end up on the street, but apparently a fair amount of state-sanctioned degradation is regarded as good sport).
I would have never wished such a fate on someone for the small and relatively innocuous act of being unreasonable and doing some slightly shady stuff to a few dozen university students. But she must have applied this same attitude to someone much more powerful at some point, and karma caught up with heavy interest.

/marvin/

Coworker and I had a friendly prank war spanning two years. Close to the end of our war he "iced" my car. Icing involves taking the hose to the parking lot every half hour and spraying a light mist over your victims car when it's below zero out. I finished my 12 hour shift to find a car encased in 2 inches of ice.

My revenge was, I thought, both more inconvenient for him and less freezing my balls off for me. I decided to take a bed sheet, drape it over his car, and only took 4 or 5 trips out with the hose the next night. So the next morning he finds his car with a quarter inch of ice freezing a sheet to his car. When he started peeling off the sheet he pulled his windshield wipers, arms and all off of his ratty jeep.

I got a very pissed off phone call. I felt bad, the unwritten rule was "embarrassing or inconvenient, no damage". I paid for repairs, and he got his revenge. He planted a dozen pieces of smoked herring throughout my car. Took me 6 months to find the last piece. Hidden under the carpet under the back window of my car. I can still smell it, I don't even own the car anymore....

/FlipZer0/

An ex-girlfriend of mine was unhappy about the break up and decided that a good revenge would be to call pizza delivery services and cabs to my home in the dozens. All at the same time.
When the doorbell rang and I looked outside it looked like a union meeting or a protest of the pizza delivery and cab industry. All of the guys were already discussing what was going on. There were cars parked all over the driveway and on both sides of the street, I didn't count them but it sure looked like two to three dozen. She must have called every available company in the city.

So the designated spokesperson who rang my doorbell asked straight forward if I am nuts or if this is a bad joke. All these angry faces were staring at me and waiting for an explanation about what was going on. Some of them already calling their boss and talking about suing me.

We stared at each other for a couple of seconds with awkward silence and then I started to explain that I did not call any of them. Then the spokesperson asked me if I had any idea who had called them...then it clicked and I remembered my ex-girlfriend who was pretty mad at me for breaking up with her.

It told them briefly about the break up which happened a couple of days before and that this would be the only person I could imagine who could have a beef with me and also knew where I lived. So they asked If I had her address, which I gave them without thinking about it twice.

These guys wanted money for the cab fare, for the pizzas and were talking about suing me ... so I just reacted. I never thought too much about that incident other than to tell a funny story about break ups gone wrong.

Until I heard a couple of years later (from a common friend) that all of the drivers went directly to her address to complain. They ended up suing her which led to a conviction for fraud and ended up with a huge legal bill for her and a conviction which then afterwards got her fired from her job.
That was the point where I started to feel really bad about my decision to tell them her home address without thinking about the consequences. After all I was the one who broke up with her so she had a valid point with being mad at me.

The way she decided to get back at me was not the foxiest. But I have to admit she was not the brightest candle in the chandelier, which was the main reason I broke up with her in the first place.

/PsyDaddy/

I've always been a laid-back person, but my colleague, Mark, had this infuriating habit of taking the last cup of coffee from the office machine and never refilling it. Everyone complained about it, but he just laughed it off. So, one day, I decided it was time for a harmless lesson.

I came up with a plan to swap the regular office coffee with decaf. I secretly made the switch, thinking it would be a funny way to mess with the office's caffeine routine. For a week, everyone, including Mark, was unknowingly drinking decaf.

Things seemed to go well at first. People were a bit more sluggish, but nothing too noticeable. I was waiting for the right moment to reveal the prank, expecting a few laughs and maybe some mock outrage.

After a week, I switched it back to regular coffee. My expectation was that everyone's caffeine tolerance would have slightly adjusted, and they'd feel a bit more energized. But the reaction was far more intense.

The day the regular coffee was back, the office transformed. People were jittery, talking rapidly, and there was an unusual buzz in the air. Meetings were chaotic, and the overall productivity took a nosedive.

Mark, however, had the worst reaction. He was overly caffeinated, visibly shaking, and increasingly anxious. By mid-afternoon, he had a full-blown panic attack. We had to call an ambulance, and he was rushed to the hospital.

The aftermath was severe. Our boss was furious. Strict rules were implemented on coffee consumption, and personalized coffee batches were banned. The office atmosphere turned tense, and I was filled with guilt.

I never confessed, but seeing Mark so affected by my prank hit me hard. It wasn't just a harmless joke anymore; it had serious consequences. I regretted my decision deeply and wished I had just asked him to refill the pot.

This incident taught me a valuable lesson about thinking through the potential impacts of my actions, even if they seem harmless at the time. I learned that sometimes, it's better to address issues directly rather than resorting to petty revenge.

CaffeineConspirator

Back in college, I lived with a roommate named Sarah. She had this annoying habit of using my things without asking. One day, I discovered she had used my expensive shampoo again. I was fed up and decided to teach her a lesson.

I ordered a glitter bomb online, planning to set it off in her wardrobe. In my mind, it was a perfect plan for a harmless yet annoying prank. I imagined her opening her wardrobe and being showered in glitter, and then having to clean it up.

The day the glitter bomb arrived, I set it up in her wardrobe, making sure it would go off as soon as she opened the door. I waited eagerly, expecting to hear her surprised shout followed by laughter.

When Sarah opened her wardrobe, the glitter bomb worked perfectly. She was covered in a cloud of glitter, and it got all over her clothes and room. Initially, I chuckled to myself, thinking she got what she deserved.

However, the laughter died quickly when Sarah started itching and turning red where the glitter had touched her skin. It turned out she had a rare allergic reaction to certain components in the glitter.

She started breaking out in hives, and her skin swelled up. It was terrifying. We rushed her to the hospital, where she received treatment for her allergic reaction. I was mortified and felt incredibly guilty.

The repercussions were immediate. Sarah was angry and hurt, and our relationship as roommates deteriorated quickly. I had to move out eventually because the tension between us was unbearable.

I ended up paying for her medical bills, a gesture to show my regret, but it did little to mend our friendship. The prank not only cost me a friend but also taught me a hard lesson about considering the consequences of my actions.

Since then, I've sworn off pranks and learned to communicate my frustrations more constructively. I still think back to that incident with a heavy heart, knowing I caused someone harm over something so petty.

GlitterRegretter

My friend Tom was the kind of guy who loved showing off his perfect life on social media. His posts were always about how great his relationship was, which, to be honest, was a bit exaggerated. We all knew that, but he kept it up.

After Tom pulled a prank on me that left me embarrassed in front of a bunch of friends, I decided to get back at him. I thought a harmless way to do this would be to create a bit of paranoia. So, I made a fake social media account.

Using this account, I started leaving subtle hints and comments on his posts, suggesting that his girlfriend might be cheating on him. I thought it would lead to a small argument, maybe a bit of insecurity, nothing major.

But things escalated quickly. Tom became fixated on these comments. He started questioning his girlfriend constantly, diving deep into her social media, and even asking her friends about her fidelity.

Their relationship, which had its issues but was overall healthy, started to crumble under the weight of Tom's paranoia. Arguments became frequent, and the trust they had was eroding rapidly.

Within a few weeks, the inevitable happened. they broke up. It was messy and full of accusations. Tom was heartbroken, and his ex was traumatized by the whole experience.

Eventually, the truth about the fake account came out. When our friends found out what I did, they were disgusted. I lost not just Tom's friendship but several others. I became somewhat of a pariah in our circle.

The guilt was overwhelming. I had intended a small payback for a prank, but it spiraled into something that ruined relationships and deeply hurt people I cared about.

This experience was a harsh lesson in being careful with how we use social media and the impact our actions can have on others. It changed how I interact online, and I now steer clear of any form of deceit, no matter how minor it may seem.

ToxicTypist

My friend Mike was about to turn 30, and his girlfriend was planning a big surprise party for him. A year before, Mike had spoiled a surprise party planned for me, so I thought this was the perfect opportunity for a little payback.

I casually let Mike know about the surprise party. I thought it would be a harmless joke – he would pretend to be surprised, and we'd all have a laugh about it later. It seemed like a small, petty way to get back at him.

Mike, however, took it a step further. At the party, he acted completely surprised but then, in front of everyone, thanked me for letting him in on the secret. His girlfriend was there, and the look on her face was heart-wrenching.

The atmosphere of the party shifted immediately. What was supposed to be a joyful celebration turned awkward and tense. Mike's girlfriend was devastated that the surprise she had been planning for months was ruined.

I realized too late the impact of my actions. The party, which should have been a happy occasion, was now a source of tension and disappointment for everyone involved.

Mike's girlfriend confronted me later, expressing how hurt she was that I had spoiled something so important to her. I tried to explain it was just a petty revenge, but it sounded hollow even to my ears.

The fallout from this incident was significant. I was blamed for ruining a milestone celebration, and my relationship with Mike and his girlfriend suffered greatly.

This experience made me realize that some things, like surprises and special moments, should be off-limits when it comes to petty revenges. I learned the hard way that my actions can have unintended and far-reaching consequences.

Since then, I've made it a point to think twice before acting on impulse, especially when it comes to matters of other people's feelings and important events. I learned that some things are just not worth risking for the sake of getting even.

PartyPooperPete

I'm not proud of this, but it's something I need to get off my chest. My sister and I always had a bit of a rivalry. She had this annoying habit of stealing my snacks, and one day I decided to get a little revenge.

I knew she was allergic to peanuts, but I thought a small amount in a cookie wouldn't do much harm. So, I baked a batch of cookies with just a hint of peanut butter, enough to give her a mild reaction and a lesson not to steal my food.

She ate the cookies and initially seemed fine. I was expecting her to have a slight reaction, maybe a bit of discomfort, and then I'd reveal the prank. But what happened next was beyond anything I had imagined.

Instead of a mild reaction, she started having difficulty breathing. Her face swelled up, and she was clearly in distress. It was one of the scariest moments of my life.

We rushed her to the emergency room, where they treated her for a severe allergic reaction. Watching her go through that was horrifying, and the guilt I felt was immense.

The consequences of my actions were immediate and severe. My parents were furious when they found out what I had done. I was grounded for months, and my relationship with my sister was deeply strained.

It took a long time for my sister to trust me again. I had endangered her life over something as petty as stolen snacks. The guilt of that stayed with me for a very long time.

This incident taught me an important lesson about the dangers of playing with someone's health. No matter how petty the reason, it's never worth risking someone's well-being.

I've since become much more mindful of my actions and their potential consequences. I learned the hard way that revenge, especially when it involves someone's health, is never a good idea.

GuiltySibling

I work in a medium-sized company, and there's this colleague, Alex, who's known for being the office gossip. He has this annoying habit of spreading rumors, and one day, he crossed the line by spreading a rumor about me. I was fuming and wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.

I crafted an elaborate plan. I wrote a fake email about a non-existent company scandal, making it juicy enough to pique Alex's interest. The plan was to send it to him anonymously and watch him spread this fake news, only to reveal later that it was all made up.

So, I sent the email from a burner account. It detailed a fictitious affair between two high-ranking executives in our company. I thought Alex would spread it around the office, and then I'd step in, exposing the email as fake, embarrassing him.

To my horror, instead of just gossiping, Alex forwarded the email to the entire company, including the executives involved. The email spread like wildfire, and within hours, it was the only thing anyone was talking about.

The executives mentioned in the email were mortified. They faced scrutiny from everyone, including upper management. The HR department launched an investigation into the allegations, trying to find the source of the email.

The atmosphere in the office became tense and uncomfortable. Colleagues were whispering, and the executives were visibly distressed. I realized my prank had gone way too far, but I was too scared to confess.

After a week of investigation, IT traced the email back to my burner account. I was called into a meeting with HR and the executives. I had to admit that I made it all up for a petty revenge.

The fallout was severe. I was reprimanded and almost lost my job. The executives, though cleared of the rumors, were still affected by the whole ordeal. The trust within the team was broken, and Alex was warned for his role in spreading the email.

This experience was a wake-up call for me. I learned that seeking revenge, especially in a professional setting, can have serious unintended consequences. It's better to address issues directly rather than resort to deceit.

EmailEscapade

My friend, Dan, is notorious for his parking violations. He always brags about dodging parking tickets, which honestly irritates me. So, I decided to pull a prank on him as a form of petty revenge for all his bragging.

I created a fake parking ticket, making sure it looked authentic. I included a ridiculously high fine and a court summons for repeated violations. The plan was to leave it on his windshield, scare him a bit, and then reveal it was fake.

I placed the ticket on his car and waited for his reaction. When Dan saw the ticket, he freaked out. He believed it was real and started panicking about the fine and the possibility of going to court.

Instead of coming to me, Dan decided to handle it himself. He contacted a lawyer to contest the ticket, racking up legal fees in the process. The situation escalated quickly, and I didn't know how to step in and reveal the truth.

A week later, when Dan was discussing his legal strategy, I realized the joke had gone too far. I confessed that the ticket was fake, expecting him to laugh it off.

But Dan didn't find it funny. He was furious about the money he'd spent on legal fees and the stress he'd gone through. Our friendship took a hit; he couldn't believe I'd let him go that far over a prank.

The aftermath was tense. Dan demanded I pay for the legal fees, which was fair, but it strained our friendship. I had intended a harmless prank, but it ended up costing me a lot of money and nearly a friendship.

It took a long time for Dan and me to get back on good terms. The prank, which was supposed to be a light-hearted jab at his parking habits, turned into a lesson about thinking things through.

I learned the hard way that what seems like a funny prank can quickly escalate into something serious and damaging. It's important to consider the potential consequences of our actions, even if they seem harmless at the moment.

PrankGoneWrongDan

In our neighborhood, there's this guy, Mr. Jenkins, who is notoriously rude. He yells at kids, complains about everything, and just makes life miserable for everyone. One day, after a particularly nasty encounter, I decided it was time for a little payback.

Mr. Jenkins had a cat that he adored. So, I thought a harmless prank would be to make a bunch of 'Lost Cat' posters with a picture of his cat and a funny, fake reward offer. I planned to hang them around the neighborhood for a laugh.

I made the posters and put them up one night. They had a picture of Mr. Jenkins' cat and an offer of a ridiculous reward - a year's supply of cat food. I thought neighbors would find it funny and that Mr. Jenkins would be mildly annoyed at most.

The next day, the posters garnered a lot of attention. People were amused, but then something unexpected happened. Mr. Jenkins' cat actually went missing.

The neighborhood rallied to find the cat, thinking Mr. Jenkins was offering a huge reward. People were searching everywhere, knocking on doors, and even organizing search parties. The situation escalated beyond my wildest expectations.

Mr. Jenkins was frantic. He had no idea about the posters until someone showed him. He was confused and overwhelmed by the response from the neighborhood.

Feeling guilty, I joined the search and eventually found the cat in a nearby alley. I returned it to Mr. Jenkins, who was relieved but still puzzled about the posters.

I confessed to the prank, expecting anger. Surprisingly, Mr. Jenkins laughed it off, relieved to have his cat back. The neighborhood's response had shown him a sense of community he hadn't realized existed.

This experience taught me about the power of community and how a prank can unexpectedly bring people together. It also showed me that petty revenge isn't always the answer and that positive outcomes can come from the most unexpected places.

CatPosterPrankster

My friend Lisa is a huge music fan, and she had been bragging for weeks about getting tickets to an exclusive concert. I felt left out and a bit jealous, as I couldn't afford the tickets. So, I devised a plan for a bit of revenge.

I created a fake email from the concert organizers, stating that due to unforeseen circumstances, the concert was canceled and refunds would be issued. My plan was to send this to Lisa, see her reaction, and then reveal it was just a joke.

I sent the email and waited. When Lisa received it, she was devastated. She called me, crying about how much she was looking forward to the concert. I immediately felt guilty but didn't confess yet.

Instead of just being upset, Lisa started a social media campaign to express her disappointment. She rallied other fans, and soon there was a small movement demanding answers from the real organizers.

The concert organizers were bombarded with questions and complaints. They had to issue a statement clarifying that the concert was still on. This caught the attention of local media, and the story started to gain traction.

Seeing the chaos unfold, I knew I had to come clean. I confessed to Lisa about the fake email. She was furious, not just for the prank, but for how far it had gone and the trouble it caused.

Lisa's trust in me was shattered. Our friendship suffered greatly because of my thoughtless action. Moreover, the concert organizers, upset about the confusion and bad press, banned Lisa from attending the event.

I tried to make amends by offering to pay for new tickets, but the damage was done. The incident became a lesson about how a small act of jealousy and revenge can spiral out of control and have real consequences.

I learned to think carefully about the potential impact of my actions, especially when they're driven by negative emotions like jealousy or the desire for revenge. It's a lesson I'll carry with me, always.

ConcertChaosCreator

My neighbor, Mr. Thompson, takes his lawn very seriously. He's always bragging about his perfect grass and often criticizes others' lawns, including mine. One day, after a particularly snide comment about my yard, I decided to get even.

I bought a bag of quick-growing wildflower seeds, planning to secretly scatter them on his pristine lawn. I imagined a few colorful patches appearing, disrupting his perfect green turf, and giving me a good laugh.

Late one night, I went out and spread the seeds all over his lawn. I was careful to make sure they were evenly distributed, thinking they would just result in a few small, colorful spots.

However, the seeds grew much faster and more aggressively than I anticipated. Within a week, Mr. Thompson's lawn was overrun with wildflowers. It was no longer the manicured green he was so proud of, but a riot of colors.

Mr. Thompson was furious. He couldn't figure out how his lawn had transformed so drastically. He started accusing the neighborhood kids and even called a landscaping company to assess the 'damage.'

The landscapers told him that the only way to get rid of the wildflowers would be to redo his entire lawn, a costly and time-consuming endeavor. Mr. Thompson was distraught, and the neighborhood was buzzing with theories.

I realized then that my little prank had gone too far. The wildflowers, while beautiful, had caused a lot of stress and financial burden for Mr. Thompson. I decided to confess and apologize.

Mr. Thompson was shocked to learn I was responsible. While he was initially angry, he eventually forgave me, and we even shared a laugh about the whole situation. I offered to help with the cost of fixing his lawn, which helped mend our relationship.

This experience taught me that revenge, even in its pettiest form, can have unintended and serious consequences. It's better to address issues directly and avoid actions that might harm others, no matter how justified they might seem at the moment.

LawnWarrior

Living with my roommate, Steve, has always been a bit of a challenge. He's messy and often leaves food out, which drives me crazy. After a week of seeing his dirty dishes pile up, I decided to teach him a lesson.

I hatched a plan to hide a piece of fish in his room. My thinking was that the smell would become unbearable, and he'd finally clean up his act. So, I placed a small piece of fish behind his bookshelf and waited.

For the first few days, nothing happened. Then, the smell started. It was subtle at first, but it grew stronger each day. Steve started searching for the source but couldn't find it.

After a week, the smell became unbearable. Steve was frantic, cleaning his room from top to bottom, but the hidden fish remained undiscovered. Our apartment reeked, and even I was struggling to handle the stench.

Neighbors started complaining about the smell, and our landlord got involved. He threatened to evict us if we didn't resolve the issue. The situation was getting out of hand, and I knew I had to act.

I finally revealed the source of the smell to Steve, expecting him to be relieved. Instead, he was furious that I had let it go on for so long and caused such a disruption.

We had to hire a professional cleaning service to get rid of the smell, and I had to cover the cost. Our relationship as roommates was strained, and the trust between us was broken.

Steve started to keep his space cleaner, but the incident left a lasting tension between us. I regretted my actions deeply, realizing that my attempt at teaching him a lesson had backfired dramatically.

I learned that living with others requires patience and direct communication, not petty acts of revenge. This experience taught me to handle conflicts in a more mature and constructive way.

FishyFiasco

My friend, Ryan, is always boasting about his job offers and career success. It's a bit annoying, especially since I've been struggling to find a good job. One day, I decided to knock him down a peg with a harmless prank.

I created a fake email from a prestigious company, offering him a dream job with an incredible salary. I made it look official, thinking he'd get excited, only to reveal later that it was just a joke.

Ryan received the email and was over the moon. He started bragging to everyone about this amazing opportunity, and I started to feel guilty but didn't stop the prank there.

Encouraged by his excitement, Ryan quit his current job to prepare for this new role. He even threw a farewell party, thanking everyone for their support.

As his start date approached, I realized the severity of the situation. I had to tell him the truth. When I confessed, Ryan was devastated. He had turned down other real offers for this fake job.

Ryan was now jobless and embarrassed. He had to start his job search from scratch, and his trust in me was shattered. The prank had gone way beyond a harmless joke.

Our friendship suffered greatly. Ryan felt betrayed and humiliated. I tried to help him find a new job, but the damage was done. The guilt I felt was overwhelming.

It took a long time for us to repair our friendship. The incident served as a harsh reminder of the consequences of thoughtless actions, especially when they play with someone's livelihood.

I learned that jealousy and the desire for revenge can lead to harmful decisions. It's important to be supportive of friends, even when we're facing our own challenges.

JobJokeGoneWrong

It was my coworker, Jenna's, birthday. She's known in the office for her love of practical jokes, often at others' expense. Last year, she pranked me on my birthday, so I thought I'd return the favor.

I baked a beautiful birthday cake, but with a twist. I added an excessive amount of salt to the batter, thinking it would result in a funny reaction when she tasted it. It was supposed to be a harmless prank.

At her birthday celebration in the office, everyone gathered around as she cut the cake. I was anticipating a few laughs when she tasted the salty cake.

Jenna took a big bite and immediately knew something was off. She spat it out, and everyone was confused. Some tried the cake and had the same reaction. The mood quickly turned from cheerful to awkward.

I revealed the prank, expecting some laughs. Instead, Jenna was upset. She felt embarrassed in front of the entire office, and others were disappointed that the celebration was ruined.

My attempt at a light-hearted prank backfired. The office atmosphere became tense, and Jenna's trust in me was broken. She avoided me after that, and our working relationship suffered.

I apologized to Jenna and the rest of the team, but the damage was done. I had turned a celebratory moment into an uncomfortable memory for everyone involved.

It took a long time for Jenna to forgive me, and even longer for the office dynamics to return to normal. I learned that pranks, especially in a professional setting, can have unintended and negative consequences.

This experience taught me to be more considerate of others' feelings and to think twice before acting on a desire for revenge, no matter how seemingly harmless it may appear.

SaltyCakeSaboteur

My brother, Jake, is a huge dreamer and always talks about what he'd do if he won the lottery. It's a bit of a family joke, but one day I decided to take it a step further for a bit of fun.

I bought a fake lottery ticket, the kind that always wins a big prize when scratched. I planned to give it to Jake, let him think he'd won a fortune, and then reveal the joke. I thought it would be a harmless prank.

I gave him the ticket on his birthday, and the look on his face when he scratched it and saw the 'winning' numbers was priceless. He was ecstatic, jumping around and shouting about all the things he'd finally be able to do.

But instead of revealing the joke right away, I let it go on. Jake started making plans, talking about quitting his job, and even looked into buying a new car.

As things escalated, I realized I needed to tell him the truth. But by then, Jake had shared his 'good news' with friends and family, and everyone was caught up in his excitement.

When I finally confessed that the ticket was fake, Jake was crushed. His embarrassment was compounded by the fact that so many people knew about it. He felt foolish and betrayed.

Our relationship suffered as a result. Jake had a hard time trusting me after that, and I regretted letting the prank go as far as it did. I hadn't anticipated the emotional impact it would have.

I spent a long time trying to make it up to Jake, helping him understand it was meant as a light-hearted joke. But the damage was more than just a moment of embarrassment; it was a deep hit to his trust and feelings.

This experience taught me a valuable lesson about being sensitive to others' feelings and hopes. Sometimes, what seems like a funny prank can actually be quite hurtful, and it's important to consider the potential impact of our actions.

LotteryLetdown

My roommate, Eric, is notorious for using my things without asking, especially my toiletries. One day, after finding out he used my expensive toothpaste again, I decided it was time for a small revenge.

I had this idea to replace my toothpaste with spicy sauce, thinking Eric would get a shock when he used it, realize it was mine, and stop using my things. It seemed like a harmless and funny way to make my point.

So, I carefully emptied my toothpaste tube and filled it with a mix of hot sauce and a bit of toothpaste for color. I put it back in the bathroom, waiting for Eric to discover it.

The next morning, I heard a commotion in the bathroom. Eric had used the toothpaste and was in a lot of pain from the unexpected spiciness. He was rinsing his mouth frantically, trying to get rid of the burning sensation.

I came clean about the prank, expecting Eric to laugh it off once the shock wore off. Instead, he was really upset. He had a bad reaction to the sauce, with his lips swelling and a rash developing around his mouth.

Eric ended up going to the doctor, and I felt terrible. What I had thought would be a funny, harmless prank turned into a painful and scary experience for him.

I apologized profusely and paid for his medical expenses. The incident put a strain on our relationship as roommates, and Eric was understandably wary of using anything in the bathroom after that.

The prank not only cost me money but also damaged the trust between us. I had to work hard to rebuild that trust, and it took a while for things to get back to normal in our apartment.

This experience taught me that pranks involving personal items, especially those related to health or hygiene, can go wrong very quickly. It's important to respect others' boundaries and find more constructive ways to address issues.

HotMouthMishap

My best friend, Mike, is obsessed with his car. He's always boasting about it and how unique it is. So, for a prank, I thought I'd show him just how 'unique' it was by creating a duplicate.

I found a car identical to his and rented it for a day. I parked it next to his in the office parking lot. The plan was to make him think he was losing his mind seeing double of his 'one-of-a-kind' car.

When Mike saw the identical car, his reaction was priceless. He was confused, walking back and forth between the two cars, trying to figure out which one was his. I was hiding nearby, barely holding back my laughter.

But the prank took an unexpected turn. Mike started to suspect his car was stolen and replaced with an exact replica. Panicking, he called the police to report a theft.

The situation escalated quickly. The police arrived, and Mike was frantic, explaining his conspiracy theory about the car swap. Meanwhile, I realized things were getting out of hand but was too nervous to step in.

Eventually, I had to come clean. I revealed the prank to Mike and the police officers, expecting them to laugh it off. Instead, they were not amused, especially the officers who thought it was a waste of their time.

Mike was embarrassed but also angry. He didn't speak to me for days, feeling that I had made a fool out of him in front of his colleagues and the police.

It took a sincere apology and a lot of convincing for Mike to see the humorous side of the prank. Our friendship survived, but I learned a lesson about the limits of a good joke.

From then on, I decided to stick to less elaborate pranks. I realized that what I find funny might not always be amusing to others, especially when it involves their prized possessions.

DoubleTroublePrankster

My sister loves horror movies and often teases me for being scared of them. To get back at her, I decided to make her believe our house was haunted. I thought it would be a harmless way to spook her a bit.

I set up a few tricks around the house - strange noises, flickering lights, and objects moving on their own. I used string, timers, and sound effects to create a convincing haunted atmosphere.

At first, it was fun watching her react to the 'hauntings.' She was genuinely spooked, and I felt a bit of satisfaction in finally getting one over on her.

But then, things went too far. She became genuinely terrified, refusing to be alone in the house. She even started sleeping with the lights on and avoided certain rooms altogether.

Her fear started to affect her daily life. She was constantly on edge, jumpy, and started to lose sleep. I realized my prank was no longer funny but actually causing her distress.

Feeling guilty, I decided to end the prank and reveal everything. However, my confession didn't have the relief effect I expected. She was furious and felt betrayed.

It took a while for her to trust me again. She was upset that I took advantage of her fears for a laugh. Our relationship was strained for quite some time.

In the end, we were able to move past it, but I learned a valuable lesson. What might seem like a harmless prank to one person can be genuinely terrifying to another.

This experience taught me to be more considerate of others' feelings. I realized that sometimes, what's meant to be a simple joke can end up causing real harm.

HauntedHouseHarasser

My friend Rachel is notorious for spoiling surprise parties, always finding out about them beforehand. For her birthday, I decided to turn the tables and prank her with a fake surprise party.

I spread rumors about a big surprise party we were planning for her. I even had fake invitations made and sent out. The plan was to have her show up to an empty venue, where I'd be waiting to reveal the joke.

Rachel got wind of the 'party' and was super excited. She talked about it non-stop, speculating about who would be there and what we had planned. Her excitement made me feel a bit guilty, but I brushed it off.

The day of the 'party' arrived, and Rachel showed up at the venue dressed up and ready to celebrate. But, of course, there was no party, just me waiting to tell her it was all a prank.

When Rachel realized there was no party, her disappointment was evident. She tried to laugh it off, but I could tell she was hurt. The venue was empty, and the realization that it was all a setup hit her hard.

I felt terrible. What I thought would be a funny reversal of roles turned out to be a cruel trick. I had taken her excitement and turned it into embarrassment.

Rachel and I talked it out, and she forgave me, but it took a while for her to trust me with secrets again. The prank had a lasting impact on our friendship.

I learned from this experience that playing with people's emotions, even in the name of fun, can have unintended and hurtful consequences. It's important to consider how our actions affect others.

This prank taught me to be more empathetic and thoughtful about how I interact with my friends. I realized that the best jokes are the ones where everyone can laugh, including the 'victim.'

PartyPranksterGoneWrong

Working in an office with a competitive atmosphere, my colleague Tom always bragged about his career progress. To get back at him for a previous prank, I decided to make him think he was getting a big promotion.

I created a fake email from our boss, announcing Tom's promotion to a senior position. The email was detailed and convincing, and I was sure Tom would fall for it.

Tom received the email and was overjoyed. He started telling everyone in the office about his 'promotion.' I watched, feeling a mix of amusement and guilt as he shared his 'good news.'

But things quickly spiraled out of control. Tom, thinking he was now a senior employee, started making changes in the office. He became more authoritative and even started delegating tasks to others.

His behavior caused confusion and resentment among our colleagues. People didn't understand why Tom was suddenly acting like he was in charge. The office dynamics were thrown into disarray.

I realized the prank had gone too far. I confessed to Tom and our coworkers, expecting them to find it funny. Instead, Tom was humiliated, and my colleagues were annoyed at the unnecessary tension.

Tom's reputation in the office took a hit. He was embarrassed and struggled to regain the respect of our colleagues. Our relationship also suffered, as he felt I had made a mockery of his career aspirations.

It took a lot of effort to mend fences with Tom and our colleagues. The prank taught me that people's careers and aspirations are sensitive subjects and should be treated with respect.

From this experience, I learned the importance of empathy in the workplace. It's crucial to understand the impact our actions can have on others, especially in a professional environment.

PromotionPrankster

My friends and I love to travel, and we often joke about taking extravagant vacations. One day, I decided to prank my friend Sarah by convincing her she had won an all-expenses-paid trip to Bali.

I created a fake travel agency email, complete with details about the trip, flight information, and a luxurious hotel stay. I sent it to Sarah, and she was ecstatic.

Sarah shared the news with everyone, talking about how lucky she was and how excited she was for the trip. Seeing her so happy made me start to regret the prank.

But instead of revealing the truth, I let it continue. Sarah started making preparations, shopping for the trip, and even taking time off work.

As the supposed departure date approached, I realized I had to tell her the truth. When I finally confessed, Sarah was devastated.

Not only was she disappointed about not going to Bali, but she was also upset about the time and money she had spent preparing for the trip. She felt betrayed and foolish for believing the scam.

Our friendship suffered because of my thoughtless prank. It took a lot of apologizing and effort to rebuild the trust I had broken.

I learned a hard lesson about the consequences of deceit, especially when it plays on someone's emotions and dreams. It's important to consider how our actions affect others, even in jest.

This experience taught me to be more considerate and truthful with my friends. It's always better to share in real joys than to create false hopes.

VacationVillainPrankster