1. by Wheeler Jones
A 'friend' of mine... let's call him Peeler Flones, worked for a big corporation. As such, one of the small perks was internet access... one day though he was written up for accessing sites not deemed work productive... and the head of I.T. wrote him up personally.
The 'gentleman' we'll call IT-boy was a real piece of work... considered himself not only a genius, but also a rebel. He decided the best way to show this would be to doff a trademark cowboy hat he wore to work one morning... proudly. This hat also had his name beautifully stitched into the inside of the hat... obviously because, well, you decide. I don't like all the blanks filled in...
Anyway, Peeler, after being written up, decided that this hot-shot needed a little medicine.
Revenge was exacted.
Shortly after the revenge, IT-boy announced that he was very ill... that in fact, he could possibly have a brain tumor. When his boss asked why It-boy made such a conclusion, IT-boy explained that every Tuesday and Thursday, his head would swell significantly. Asked how he knew this, It-boy grabbed his cowboy hat, and attempted to put it on. Too small. MUCH too small.
The next day the hat fit fine though.
After a trip to a very well-known neurologist (in their circles anyway) all tests proved that there was nothing wrong with IT-boy.
As suddenly as the brain-swelling began, it ended, though why it did such on Tuesdays and Thursdays IT-boy never did find out, though he had gone through the laborious process of tracking his diet and everything else that could possibly be unique to those days of the week.
As I said, it passed finally.
Of course, this revenge cost Peeler a trip to the hat shop, weeks earlier where he bought an exact reproduction of IT-boy's hat... with IT-boy's name sewn in as well... only 2 sizes smaller that IT-boy's original hat...
And if you ask nicely, to this day, Peeler might even show you that hat....
2. by Ken
Several years ago I discovered my ex-wife in a compromising position with another woman. For many men reading this, I am sure you are thinking, "Dude! suggest a Kenny sandwich". For the most part I would be game for that kind of action but trust would have to be paramount in that type of situation. Unfortunately, that event started the breakdown of my marriage and also the beginning of a nasty divorce. My ex would stop at nothing to make me look like a crazed lunatic. I found myself separated from my sons due to her lies. I have to give my ex credit for she is a talented drama queen worthy of an Oscar. She can turn on the taps with the blink of an eye. She built up a web of lies that involved the police and the courts. Each time I went to court resulted in a victory for me. For each lie she told, I stood my ground and held my head high. She forced me out of my home, left me with a ton of debt and slagged me off to my sons. With all of her attempts to make me out to the person I am not, I never once responded in kind. My time would come. I always reminded her that I did not want any part of an adversarial system that pitts former couples against each other and the best route for us and the boys would be a 50/50 split, you go your way and I go mine and discuss the children only. After we split, I met a wonderful woman and found a different life that wasn't full of drama. I ran into the woman who helped my ex out when we split a while ago. Upon seeing me, she burst into tears and gave me a hug and told me she regretted all that had gone on. She also confessed that she and my ex were no longer speaking.
I had all kinds of revenge fantasies. Some real beauts too, like planting a little stash of pot in her bag when she flew to England to see her family, calling her father and telling him that his daughter was unfaithful, putting sugar in the gas tank, creating one of those faux mastercard ads that would really embarrass her and circulate it on the internet, sign her up on one of those dating web sites that involve farm animals, etc. While I was having these nicely entertaining revenge fantasies, my life was improving. I moved into a bigger house with my girlfriend, moved my business to my home, made more money and had more of a social life. Essentially I am much happier than I have ever been. My sons prefer to be with me because I am an overgrown kid and I listen to them and never speak ill of their mother. I found the happier I got in my life, the more miserable and jealous she became. I can say from experience that happiness is the best revenge.
p.s. I promise to return to being an interesting rambling lunatic soon.
3. by Cottingley Fairy
"Go to the middle of the tracks and stop!" My Driver's Education teacher kept shouting this to me when I stopped the Oldsmobile full of other students at the flashing red signal lights at the railroad tracks. He always tried to trip up students - telling us to head the wrong way on a one-way street, ignore Stop signs because "no one's looking", drive faster because we needed to get back to school- then he'd bellow and mark down the grade if we did it. So I refused and reminded him there was a train coming. He got louder, I refused louder, he glared and shouted, and I just stubbornly gripped the wheel and mashed the brake harder, and kept glancing at the oncoming freight train through the passenger-side window, then to the popping eyes of the instructor, then to the train, then to his eyes.
Enough time passed I realized the train was moving slowly. I also knew he would fail me if I crossed the tracks with a train in sight and already bleating its whistle at the stopped cars. But I had also had enough of the instructor yelling "Go to the middle of the tracks and stop!" at me. He meant for me to stop the car between the two sets of railroad tracks so he could see if a train was really coming but I did not realize it at the time. I finally let go the brake, stomped on the gas and the big Olds leapt forward, and then I mashed the brake again, plopping that fat car across the first set of tracks, the one that happened to be occupied by a heavy oncoming freight train. "LOOK!" I yelled. "I TOLD YOU A TRAIN WAS COMING!" The train engineer freaked and hit the whistle, no doubt visualizing the headlines of multiple student driver deaths. The teacher turned in his seat, saw the train for the first time, and after leaving a nice set of eyeball prints on the window glass, shrieked, "Move the car! Move the car!" but I just sat, calmly explaining that I had seen the train coming and he'd better not mark me off for crossing the tracks. He flipped out completely, no doubt visualizing a more personally-related headline plus an obituary.
Point made, I shifted into gear and we rolled off the tracks and headed back to the high school while the teacher was literally pouring pills into his hand and gobbling them down. With the addition of all his overly dramatic hand-quivering, brow-mopping, body-sagging, and stammering, I soon became quite annoyed with his histrionics. I later heard (from EVERYONE) it was the worst fright of his entire life and the pills were real. But I'd bet that he does not try to trick driver's ed students any more.
To the commenter "laughing hysterically": Your comment Friday was intriguing, but not entirely clear (Particularly the part about "Catholic pillowtalk"). If you could re-post, maybe with smaller words for the slow, it would be appreciated.
To Travis Mac, the Ralph Nader (I mean from Nader's consumer advocate days, before he went nuts) of this blog: A lawyer friend says he hopes you aren't a lawyer. He also strongly hopes on behalf of your loved ones (if you have any) that you are not taking content you've found on the internet and running with it per your understanding of public domain. As to your other comments, you're not wrong and I'll address them later in the week. In the interim, we always prefer constructive criticism (i.e. rather than saying simply that this sucks, say it sucks and suggest how it might suck less).