moerketid posted:

Surely that was written by someone from this thread.

quote:

This is a bit of revenge that I helped some good friends with last summer.

Preface:

My friends are a lesbian couple, one is from the US, the other Honduras. Both are very sweet ladies, highly educated, in their early 40's, and are good friends to my wife and me. We love them dearly.

Unfortunately, their neighbors are not very nice people. Basically, your standard issue bigoted, homophobic rear end hats. Dirty looks and derogatory comments are flung across the fence almost constantly. The final straw was when a row of rose plants mysteriously died, mid-summer last year. Looking closely at the flower bed, it was obvious that something had been poured over them to kill them.

My friends were at their wits end. While they could move, they really love their house and the neighborhood is great, except for the dip sticks next door.

The Revenge:

Enter me and my evil mind.

As mentioned before, one of the ladies is from Honduras. I asked her how she would like to become a "guerrilla."

The two of them came to my house to get training. I outfitted them with one of my weapons, a 1942 vintage 303 Enfield that fires some very, very large shells.

Of course I disabled it, as neither of them had ever fired a weapon in their lives and that is not a gun you want to learn on. However, I did teach them how to strip and assemble it, with a blindfold on.

Yeah, you know know where this is going.

The following week, they set up on their picnic table and practiced field stripping the rifle, the whole time having the shells standing on end, in plain view. One would field strip, then assemble the rifle, while the other stood behind with a stop watch. After a few times, they'd change places. This went on for a full week, to make sure that the neighbors got a full view.

Oh did I mention they decked themselves out in camouflage and basically looked bad rear end as hell when they did it?

Yeah, it was awesome.

Not a word has been uttered since from the rear end hats.

Tl;Dr:

The way is shut.

It was made by those who are Guerrilla Lesbians.

And the Guerrilla Lesbians keep it.

The way is shut.

quote:

I take credit for the revenge described in this post, because even though I was not the one who inflicted it, I designed it. So here goes.

A zillion years ago back in grade ten, I had this sort of friend. Not really a true friend; I had only one and he'd moved away. But Frank was about the closest thing I had to a friend at that time. Frank was, at that time, small for his age. The following summer he went on a growth spurt, and was six inches taller when grade 11 started. But in grade 10, he was still short. Short, somewhat overweight, highly intelligent, and possessing no physical skills at all. Gym was no fun for him. Shop class was even worse. He was one of the geekiest kids in the school. We were friends, because if there had been a competition for the top geek, he and I would have been among the favourites.

Now Frank had it more or less ok at school, because he wasn't a bad guy. I was an rear end in a top hat as well as a geek, so my experience was quite different. Unlike me, Frank got along with people, was friendly, and so by Geek/Nerd standards, his life actually wasn't that bad at school.

But at home, it was different.

Home was not much fun for Frank. Money wasn't the problem; his dad was in a respectable profession earning very well. His mom was nice. His parents were Catholic, and made Frank go to church and a Catholic school. They were a bit too uptight (prudes, in fact), but other than that, they were ok. Life at home would have been fine for Frank, except for his brother. We'll call that brother Steve. Steve was a few years older than Frank. Bigger, stronger, way more popular, athletic blah blah blah. Steve was everything Frank was not. If he wanted a girl, he got a girl, unlike his hapless younger brother. I suppose this would have all been ok with Frank, if Steve were a nice guy. But Steve wasn't a nice guy. He was a bully. He tormented his nerdy younger brother whenever the opportunity presented itself. A slacker at school, Steve put real effort into hassling Frank. He had a genuine talent for it.

The one saving grace for Frank is that Steve went to a different high school. The Catholic school had opened the year Frank started grade 9, and so Steve never went to high school with Frank. But Steve did what he could both before and after school to make Frank's life a misery.

Steve's morning greeting was a slap to the back of Frank's head. A quick elbow into Frank's gut was an almost daily occurrence. The physical stuff was always out of sight of the parents. Steve never left a mark; soft-tissue injuries were his speciality. Never a bruise or cut, but always lots of pain. There wasn't much Frank could do. Fighting back was out of the question. He'd learned that if he tried that, it would end with him being pinned to the ground, Steve on top of him, slapping Frank's face lightly but repeatedly until Frank started to cry, not from the pain but from the humiliation.

Frank's parents were of no help. They'd talk to Steve, and Steve would say that he'd only been joking around, that Frank was too sensitive, that he had never, ever actually hurt Frank. It was easier for the parents to buy this bullshit than to actually do something about it, so Frank was on his own.

Frank tried retaliating verbally. That should have worked, because when it came to repartee, Steve was totally outclassed. But backtalk was not a good option, because the moment the opportunity came, Steve would inflict major payback. It just wasn't worth it.

Steve did not have a big repertoire of non-physical torment, but what he did, he did well. I can't tell you how many times Frank came to school with gum on his rear end. Or how many times Frank opened up his briefcase (yes, I'm sorry to say he carried a briefcase to school), and pulled out his homework, only to find that Steve the bastard had had hosed with his homework. One day, just before Thanksgiving, Frank pulled out an English essay to hand in.

“gently caress!” he said. I asked him what was wrong. He passed over the “essay”. It was supposed to be an essay on “Great Expectations”. But all that remained of the essay was the title page. When you turned to the next page, there were a few rambling paragraphs about what a stupid piece of poo poo the book was. Frank had to show it to the teacher nonetheless, and then get an extension so that he could re-write the whole goddamned thing.

Later at lunch Frank told me the whole story. I was kind of surprised, because he'd never talked before about his problems with his older brother. But he was really, really pissed, and he didn't know what to do. Then he said to me,

“You really hosed over the vice-principal last year. Help me out. How can I get Steve back?” (the story of how I hosed over the vice-principal is itself an amusing tale of revenge, but it would be far too long a digression for me to relate it here).

I asked Frank to tell me everything he could about Steve. Frank had never mentioned his family before, so I knew nothing about Steve. I learned about Steve's strengths and weaknesses, his hobbies, the hot girlfriend, his social life, what things mattered to him, and what didn't. I listened very carefully as I got the story. The general picture of Steve was not very impressive. A big, strong bully, who cared little for school. As long as he passed a course, that was fine (“Hey I got a 60!” was the closest he could get to academic excellence). Sports were important to him, but I didn't think that messing with Steve's career as a high school jock was really the way to go. But the girlfriend: serious possibilities came to mind. Steve loved to brag to Frank about how Steve was getting some, and Frank wasn't. Before Steve would go out on a date, he'd tell Frank that he was going to be getting laid that night, while Frank would be “wasting his time on some math poo poo.”

After thinking on the problem at home that night, I spoke to Frank again during lunch period.. And I laid it all out for him. A perfect plan for revenge. The only questions were, did Frank really hate Steve? And did Frank have balls? Turns out that there was a clear affirmative on both counts.

My little chat with Frank was on the Friday. Monday he comes to school, and clearly he's been beaten up. Fat lip, some facial bruising. So I knew something had gone down. At lunch, Frank filled me in. It hurt him a bit to talk because of the fat lip, but he assured me that it had been worth it. Here's what happened.

Saturday night, Steve's parents thought he was going out to play basketball. But he was going out to see his girlfriend (why they cared whether their 18-year old son was banging some girl is beyond me, but as I said earlier, they were kind of prudish, so Steve had to hide stuff). So off Steve went, after first giving Frank his comparison of what their respective evenings would be like. Frank would be doing some kind of dungeons and dragons poo poo, while he, Steve, would be in the basement of his girlfriend's house while her parents were out at the goddamned bridge club. And off Steve went.

He came back around 11 pm. He went into Frank's room, and as usual, didn't bother to knock.

“Hope you're not jerkin' off,” said Steve. “But I wouldn't blame you if you were. It's not like you have a girlfriend or something.”

“Hope you used some protection tonight,” said Frank. + “What?”

“You know, protection. So that she doesn't get pregnant.”

Normally Steve would have slapped Frank for talking this way. But there was something about Frank's tone he didn't like. “I used a rubber, of course. Do you think I'm stupid?”

“You used a rubber? Do you mean one of those rubbers that you keep on a shelf in your closet behind some poo poo that you know mom will never touch? You mean one of these?” said Frank, holding up a little condom package. Steve snatched it from Frank's hand so fast that it was gone before Frank even realized Steve had moved.

“You little poo poo! You touch my stuff again, I'll beat the living poo poo out of you!”

“I won't touch your rubbers again,” said Frank. “No need, now.”

“Now what the gently caress does that mean?”

“It's like this. Earlier today when you were out, all your rubbers were on my desk, right here. And I also had one of mom's sewing needles. I think I've still got it. Yup, here it is. See? It's really sharp and thin. It was really easy to puncture a hole right through the middle of every single loving one of your precious rubbers. Take a look.”

Steve opened his hand, and looked at the rubber he'd snatched back from Frank. At first he didn't see anything wrong, but if you looked at it with the light just so, you could make out the tiny hole in the middle. There was a pause while Steve processed this. He ran to his room across the hall. There was the sound of objects being thrown from shelves. A pause while Steve saw with his own eyes what Frank had done. And then Steve was back in Frank's room.

“He really beat the gently caress out of me,” said Frank told me over lunch, “but it was worth it.”

The commotion was pretty loud, and Frank was Steve's speed bag for not more than a minute when the fight, if you can call it that, was broken up by their dad.

“What's all this about?” shouted their father, and Steve in his rage, picked the condom package off the floor, brandished it in front of his dad, and screamed out the story about “what loving Frank had done.” Now Steve's girlfriend might be pregnant. She might have to get an abortion! And she had no loving money, so Steve would have to pay for it! He'd kill Frank for this, the little -

The tirade was cut short when the dad gave Steve a hard slap.

“An abortion? Paid for by someone in this family?”

Things went from bad to worse. Screaming, yelling, recriminations, the mom came down, more screams, tears. Finally the dad got around to yelling at Frank for creating the problem. But Frank was ready for that.

“Dad, I punctured the rubbers only after Steve left tonight. Any rubbers he had on him, I never touched.”

This led to a discussion about why Frank would do such a thing, and for once his parents actually listened to him about Steve's constant, unrelenting abuse. Steve tried to interrupt, but all he got out of this was being banished to his room, so that Frank could tell the whole story.

After hearing all this, I told Frank that the revenge plan had worked out way better than I'd imagined.

“It gets better,” said Frank. And it did.

The next day was Sunday. Off the family went to church. Dad in a suit, mom in a nice dress, and the two sons wearing dress pants and jackets. The perfect little family, except for the bruises all over Frank's face. It really pissed of Frank's parents that they had to make up crap to explain away Frank's injuries. The ride home from church passed in silence. And the rest of the day was no better. The dad spent the day tinkering on some project in the garage, and later the mom started on Sunday dinner. But she wasn't in the mood to actually make anything, so she went out and bought some meat pies. The boys stayed in their rooms all day, Frank because he was working on his science project, and Steve, because he was grounded. Really grounded. He wasn't allowed out of the house except for school, and when he was in the house, he wasn't allowed out of his room except for meals and bathroom break. After a wait that seemed like forever, it was six o'clock. Time for Sunday dinner.

Steve was permitted out of the basement, and came sullenly to the table. The mom put on this air of false cheerfulness. Frank was quiet, the fat lip still very fresh and so it hurt to talk. The dad just wanted to get dinner over with. It started well enough. They all ate their salad, and there were attempts a civil conversation. Then the mom brought the meat pies fresh out of the oven, steaming hot. Large steak and kidney pies. A real treat.

Frank dug into his pie, and tried it. But he came to close to his fat lip. It really, really hurt. Hurt worse than the punch that gave him the fat lip, and he dropped his fork and clutched his face. Steve's big mistake at this point was to laugh a bit. Not much, and he covered it up, but he had laughed enough for his dad to hear him.

The dad stood up, grabbed Steve's plate with one hand, the son's hair with other, and mashed Steve's face into the meat pie.

“He screamed!” Frank told me. “He actually screamed like a little girl! It was beautiful!”

Epilogue:

Frank later told me the bullying never completely stopped, but it came down a notch or two. Steve remained grounded for some time, and even after he was un-grounded, he was closely watched. He had a serious case of blue balls as a result.

TL;DR bullied high school kid gets revenge on his older brother, in a strange combination of condoms and food.

jalopybrown posted:

pathetic little tramp posted:

I asked my friend from Honduras if she wanted to be a "guerilla" and she was all about playing the part of the people who ravaged her country and turned her entire life and history into a loving hellscape.

General Panic posted:

I SCORN YOUR FOUL YEAST-BASED CONSUMABLES.

All of these stories where a customer goes nuts because the shop doesn't stock something are the most unbelievable, because this happens to everybody at some point and all that ever happens is that you say, "Oh, sorry" and walk out, or maybe ask them if they know somewhere nearby that sells the item.

jalopybrown posted:

GWBBQ posted:

I posted a few months ago about a couple of those customers from when I worked at Radio Shack. They're rare, but they are out there.
http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=3501091&pagenumber=81&perpage=40#post410983848

moerketid posted:

We used to have a tiny martial arts store/unit in an indoor market in Glasgow (Scotland). It just sold stuff like belts, wooden training swords, padding, outfits, instructional books, mats and a couple of vaguely related things like wall hangings. It wasn't very exciting and I guess you'd be hard pushed to make a larger store out of it. Anyway, they are quite real, unlike the rest of the story.

quote:

All of these stories where a customer goes nuts because the shop doesn't stock something are the most unbelievable, because this happens to everybody at some point and all that ever happens is that you say, "Oh, sorry" and walk out, or maybe ask them if they know somewhere nearby that sells the item.

Seedge posted:

Argyle Market or down the Barrows? I only ever went into the market to buy Magic cards from the comic book store in there, Static. If only I'd known about this!

Not Always Right posted:

(I’m a manager. I am ringing up a woman I have sold things to before. We are making small talk as I ring her up. Note: I’m a lesbian.)

Customer: “I can’t believe the president came out in support for gay marriage!”

Me: “I know; kind of unbelievable!”

Customer: “That f** lover is going to burn in hell for that!”

Me: *biting my tongue* “Okay.”

(I finish ringing her up and hand the customer her bags.)

Customer: “They should round up all the gays and put them down.”

Me: “That would be bad for me, seeing as I am a lesbian.”

(The woman turns pale and walks out without saying a word. A few hours later, I get a call from the manager of another one of our stores. On the line, I can hear the same customer I previously sold items to ranting.)

Manager: *also a woman* “So, this woman is here wanting to exchange a bunch of stuff from your store. When I asked her what was wrong with the items, she said you tainted them; I have no idea what she is talking about. Could you maybe clear this up for me?”

Me: “Well, I bet it is because she found out I was gay.”

Manager: “I see.” *starts talking in sultry voice* “Well, I’ll see you tonight for our date. You should put on that that black lace bra and panty set I got you for your birthday! I love you!” *hangs up*

(I am very confused, seeing as I have never dated that manager, nor did she ever get me underwear, and as far as I know, she is not gay. Fast forward a few days later to the manager weekly conference call: apparently, the customer left the other store after thinking the other manager was also gay. That manager then called every other store in the area and told everyone about the customer. Over the next few days, the customer went to every store in a 20 mile radius trying to exchange the ‘tainted goods’. Everyone she talked to pretended to be gay when working with her and she left every time. To my knowledge, she never got her exchange.)

moerketid posted:

But you see, I read your story and he sounded like a rambling lunatic. This was believable. It would have been NAR-worthy if the exchange had been:

"Do you sell screwdrivers to open up Nintendo controllers?"
"No, sorry sir but you can buy one on eBay for a couple of dollars"
"Yes, I'll take one of those thanks"
"No sir, as I explained we don't carry them..."
(REPEAT EXCHANGE UNTIL COMICALLY PAINFUL)
"What! How dare you! I'm going to sue your rear end into tomorrow! Get me your manager!"
(ENTER MANAGER)
"What seems to be the problem, sir?"
"This little punk refused to sell me a screwdriver to open up Nintendo controllers! He thinks I'm a terrorist!"
(A REGULAR IN THE STORE, HITLER, IS BUYING BATTERIES. HE COMES UP BEHIND THE RUDE CUSTOMER)
"Achtung, what is going on here?"
(THE CUSTOMER TURNS WHITE AND RUNS OUT THE STORE)
(HITLER AND I HAVE BEEN TOGETHER EVER SINCE!)

GWBBQ posted:

* - My parents couldn't afford karate classes for me, the only times I ever went to lessons was when kids I knew in elementary school had birthday parties at the local dojo. When I was in 6th grade, my father dug out his old karate uniform, spraypainted a belt silver, and bought me a toy lightsaber at KB so I could be Luke Skywalker for Halloween.

Tatum Girlparts posted:

Oh man are we reaching a generation who actually try to live out these lovely STDH stories?!

quote:

I was honored to meet [Paul Ramsey] in person at the American Renaissance conference and had a fantastic time exchanging ideas, having a few beers, and enjoying some real Tennessee hospitality (the type where Communists get threatened by the locals, the Reds smash a bottle over a nationalist girls head, then they get beat in a bar fight, and then they are thrown out and the nationalists get bought several rounds of drinks by the locals to apologize for letting the Reds in the door.)

--by Matthew Heimbach.

quote:

While attending the American Renaissance Conference in town, Matthew Heimbach, founder of the Towson University White Student Union, reportedly found himself and friends in a bar fight Saturday evening with one of those that participated in the counter protest against the conference.

Heimbach, according to sources, had entered a local bar with friends and words were exchanged between the person, who is antifa, and his girlfriend. Things quickly became physical when as the evening progressed a person Heimbach came with grabbed the antifa's shirt and keffiyeh - a Middle Eastern scarf - and said "You don't need to wear this poo poo on your head!" Although Heimbach was involved in the verbal sparring, he stood down when blows began to be exchanged, but a woman who was with him was in the brawl, resulting in a beer mug being smashed across her head. Reports are that injuries were not serious, and all parties involved were thrown out of the bar while no charges were filed.

moerketid posted:

The Savoy Center on Sauchihall Street actually! And I also used to be in Static all the time with my ex and his pals - back in the early 2000's, though.

http://imgur.com/gallery/GUrkw31 posted:

MRW a lady refused to let me wait on her cuz I "look ethnic". Asked to see my manager, was extremely upset that I am the manager.

Mister Roboto posted:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ohbtQoEzr5o

Mister Roboto posted:

WTSDH: Wait...this poo poo DID happen.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ohbtQoEzr5o

Mogambo posted:

I wonder what kind of class this was.

Mogambo posted:

I wonder what kind of class this was.

Mogambo posted:

I wonder what kind of class this was.

Mogambo posted:

I wonder what kind of class this was.

N. Senada posted:

How to Exit Dramatically 101.

FrozenVent posted:

D-, failed to demonstrate dramatic elements.

HEGEL SMOKE A J posted:

From the Townson White Student Union, a white supremacist college group:

http://towsonwsu.blogspot.com/2013/05/may-day-ramzpaul-video.html

What probably happened:

http://www.onepeoplesproject.com/in...emid=14&lang=en

The master race

RevengeFantasy1999 posted:

When I was in junior high, I had a "best friend," let's call her Kim, who basically treated me like dog poo poo. She was always insulting me, always bossing me around - basically she was just a lovely little person all around. I don't really know why I was her friend, but I was. Anyway, on top of being a little poo poo, Kim was also a RAGING pathological liar. She was constantly trying to one-up me with these huge, obviously not true lies, but since I was a pushover and she was my only friend, I usually just took it and pretended to believe her.

But one day, Kim told a lie and I decided I had enough.

She waited until we were at the bus stop with a bunch of other kids and started telling them a very elaborate lie about how she had been visited by God in a dream and was told that she was pregnant with the next Jesus Christ, and that the baby was the biological son of the most popular guy in school (who she knew I had a crush on). She went on and on and on all day about how she could now feel this child kicking in her womb and how God said the baby's father was her soulmate and they would be married in a year's time, blah blah blah, and some of the dipshits on the bus actually believed her, or at least pretended to. I stayed quiet about it all day, nodding politely whenever she started in on her story about how she was the new Virgin Kim.

After school, I would always get off the bus at Kim's stop and spend the afternoon at her house doing homework until my mom got home. That day was no different. I got off the bus with Kim, smiled and nodded enthusiastically as I listened to her jabber on about how she was supposedly inseminated with Pedophile God's holy creation.

"You're okay with me being pregnant with Ryan's baby, right?" Kim asked me as we started up her driveway. "I know you were kind of in love with him, but I feel like this is fate, you know?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said.

"Okay, good," Kim sighed with her smug smirk. "I mean, it's not like you're really Ryan's type anyway, you know? He's always hanging out with those really skinny girls."

Twat.

But I said nothing. I just nodded and smiled like I had done all day and followed Kim into her house, down the hall, and into her kitchen, where her mom was sitting at the counter reading a book.

"Hi, girls!" Kim's mom sang out as soon as she saw us. I always liked her. "How was school?"

"It was fine," Kim said.

"Did anything interesting happen?"

The polite smile on my face slowly crept up in the corners to a full-on poo poo-eating Grinch smirk.

"Kim, why don't you tell your mom the story you told everyone at school?" I looked into Kim's eyes and could almost hear the sound of her stomach falling out of her rear end. "About how you're pregnant."

I calmly sat in the nearest chair, folded my hands in my lap, and watched as the world burned down around me.

DrHerpington posted:

• Atheism.
  
• Anti-popular-girl Syndrome.
  
• Stereotypical popular girl and guy names.
  
• Setting it in middle school.
  
• Being inexplicably friends with someone you really dislike.
  
• Being allowed to just sit in someone's house after dropping a bomb like that, instead of being asked to leave because it's personal.
  
• Somebody's mom believing another kid's story automatically.
  
• Using a British word to sound fancy ("twat", but "arse" and "bloody" could count too).
  

quote:

This is a perfect story. Not only is Kim completely out of control, she's also rude, and fairly stupid about religion. I love the way you bide your time and effortlessly, sweetly, politely, and helpfully consign her to a raging inferno of De-Mom-ic fury.

NoUU posted:

Edit: Oh lord the replies on reddit

DrHerpington posted:

Oh, look, another revenge fantasy thread on reddit!

"What is the most satisfying time you've caught someone in a lie?"

http://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/1e08x3/what_is_the_most_satisfying_time_youve_caught/c9vqikj

• Atheism.
  
• Anti-popular-girl Syndrome.
  
• Stereotypical popular girl and guy names.
  
• Setting it in middle school.
  
• Being inexplicably friends with someone you really dislike.
  
• Being allowed to just sit in someone's house after dropping a bomb like that, instead of being asked to leave because it's personal.
  
• Somebody's mom believing another kid's story automatically.
  
• Using a British word to sound fancy ("twat", but "arse" and "bloody" could count too).
  

quote:

Way back when some friends and I (all white kids from LA suburbs) drove into down town LA and decided to buy some pot. We found a guy at a gas station who said he would sell us weed only if we smoked a blunt with him. This dude was thug, his name is juice. He was terrifying to my honkey rear end. I was in the back seat of my friends moms escalade (we roll hard yo) and when the blunt got to me I stupidly said "ahh man who friend of the family lipped this!?"

I died. Or at least I wished I did, because I seemed to be the only person in the car who wasn't immediately uncomfortable. Then Juice politely chimes in, " I'm about 6 seconds from slapping your rear end!" I turned red, apologized profusely for what I had done.

Juice just say there quietly for like 2 full minutes looking at me, asked me if I was going to smoke the blunt or baby sit that poo poo and then he busted up laughing called me the bravest idiot he had ever met. We became friends and he always used to come over to,my house and cook dinner with my mom. Great guy, even better cook.

Mr. Mallory posted:

Sure.

Non Serviam posted:

Why would he sign his own Facebook post?