rSlash - r/Maliciouscompliance Want to Smell My Fingers? OK!

Episode Date: June 1, 2026

0:00 Intro 0:08 Spicy photo 2:24 Signature 6:22 Smell my fingers 10:00 No OT 13:21 One color Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Shopping for a car should be exciting, not exhausting. But let's be honest, sometimes it feels like wandering through a maze blindfolded. You're comparing prices, wondering if the deal is actually good, trying to figure out whether that great opportunity is really a great opportunity, or if you're about to regret it six months later. That's why I love car gurus. When I'm looking at vehicles online, I want the information up front. I don't want to play detective.

And with car gurus, you can see deal ratings, price history, and dealer reviews all in one place. It makes the whole process feel a lot more transparent and a whole lot less stressful. And I really like the search tools on the app. You can narrow things down exactly the way you want. Make, model, mileage, price range. And you can set real-time alerts for price drops and new listings.

So you're not constantly checking back every five minutes like some caffeinated maniac at two in the morning. It's no wonder Car Gurus is the number one rated car shopping app in Canada on the Apple app and Google Play Store. Car Gurus has hundreds of thousands of cars from top-rated dealers, plus deal ratings, price history, and dealer reviews on listings, so you can shop with confidence. And when you're finally ready to buy,

car gurus connects you with trusted dealerships, helping make the whole process transparent and hassle-free. Buy your next car today with Carguerus at Carguerus.ca. Go to cargueros.ca to make sure your big deal is the best deal. That's c-ar-g-g-U-S-D-C-A. Carguerous.ca.ca. Visit BetMGM Casino and check out the newest exclusive. The Price is Right Fortune Pick.

BetMDM and GameSense remind you to play responsibly. 19 plus to wager. Ontario only. Please play responsibly. If you have questions or concerns about your gambling or someone close to you, please contact connects Ontario at 1-866-531-2,600 to speak to an advisor. Free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario.

Welcome to R-slash Malicious Compliance, where OP shows a picture of his dong to an angry cop. Our next Reddit post is from Bison Glass. While passing through the main square of the city, we both witnessed a movie-like chase where three police officers managed to corner a guy who was probably dealing nearby. I'd never seen anything like that involving law enforcement before, so I decided to tell my girlfriend about it live by sending her a WhatsApp voice message. So I raised my phone to record the voice message, but then something happened. On the other side of the street, exactly where they had cornered the guy, a young policeman

noticed I had my phone in my hand and shouted at me, hey, what are you doing? I froze, confused. I didn't process it. I just stood there, looking at him, thinking he couldn't possibly be talking to me. After three seconds, I saw him running towards me, still shouting, What are you doing? I got seriously scared, so I stretched my eyes. arm out towards him without touching him and went, whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down. What are you doing? Did you make a video? I didn't make any video. I was sending a voice message to my girlfriend. Go to your gallery immediately and delete the video in front of me. At that moment, I got embarrassed. Why, you may ask, well, I remembered perfectly well that the last photo I'd taken was a photo of my dick that I sent to my

girlfriend. I wasn't afraid. I don't mince words. If there's something embarrassing to say, I say it. The damage was already done. I say, look, I'm not joking, but the last photo is a photo of my dick. I don't care. Delete that photo immediately. He didn't hesitate. For him in that gallery, there was a video, except that video didn't exist, a non-video. So I humored him. I opened the gallery, and I showed him the latest media. I opened it, he saw it. He stood there for about two or three seconds, maybe to process what he was seeing. Then he closed his eyes and looked away from the phone. Get out of here. So we left. I was crying with laughter. My roommate was too. All in all, a pretty great evening. Good story, but also pro tip. You can and should, in fact, record the cops.

If you're in America anyway, I don't know about the laws elsewhere. But the cops can't stop you. And if they do, you can sue them and make a lot of money. So it's kind of a win-win. Our next Reddit post is from Jat and Surrey. I work as a lead technician for a specialized industrial firm where we handle heavy machinery repairs. Now, because parts are expensive and often custom ordered, our old system was simple. I'd email my manager, hey, we need a $4,000 hydraulic seal. He'd reply, approved, and I'd order it. Quick, efficient, and everyone was happy.

Enter Kevin. Kevin is a new efficiency consultant turned director of operations. Kevin thinks that email is for lazy people and decided that to curb unauthorized spending, every single requisition regardless of costs now requires physical ink-on-paper signature on a specific form-o-2, hand delivered to his office. I told Kevin this was a bad idea because we're a high-volume shop. On a busy Monday, I might order 40 different items ranging from $5 bolts to $10,000 engines. Kevin's response,

If it's not signed by me in person, the company isn't paying for it. No exceptions. I don't care if it's a nickel or a grand. I want to see every request that crosses your desk. I realized that Kevin didn't quite grasp what every request meant. I usually batch my orders or handle the small stuff through a general shop fund, but not anymore. Monday morning comes, and instead of bundling all the items into one list, I treated every single individual component as a separate requisition. Ten specific bolts? That's a form. A bottle of degreaser? That's a form. A replacement light bulb for the break room? Form. By 10 a.m., I had a stack of 64 individual forms. I walked into Kevin's office. He was on a conference call. I waited, and when he hung up, I laid the stack down.

What is this? The requisitions for the morning. You said you wanted to to see every request. I need these signs so I can get the shop running. It took him 20 minutes to sign them all because he insisted on reading each one. By the time he finished, I was back with 15 more. By Tuesday, he was visibly annoyed, and by Wednesday, the fallout began. Because I was spending half my day walking back and forth to his office and waiting for him to finish meetings to get signatures, the actual repair work slowed to a crawl. Three major clients called. to ask why their machines weren't ready. The breaking point was the emergency overnight. A local plant had a massive failure and we needed a $12-0 ring to fix a $200,000 pump. It was around 4.45 p.m.

Kevin had already hit it out for a networking dinner. Now, under the old rules, I would just buy it and get reimbursed, but under Kevin's no exceptions rule, I couldn't. I told the client, I'm sorry, but I don't have authorization to purchase the part until it's physically signed off by the director. The client was furious, and they called our CEO. The CEO called Kevin at his dinner. Kevin told the CEO, I'll handle it in the morning. The CEO told Kevin to get his butt back in the office now. Kevin had to drive 45 minutes back to the office in his suit,

just to sign a single piece of paper for a $12 part. The next morning, a company-wide memo went out. Digital approvals via email are reinstated for all items under $5,000. Kevin doesn't look at me anymore when I walk past his office. I still make sure to bring him a physical form for anything over $5,001. And I always make sure to wait until he's right in the middle of a very important lunch. After all, he wanted to see every request. I knew this story was going downhill when an efficiency officer said that email

are inefficient. They're quite possibly the most efficient form of communication ever invented. Our next Reddit post is from icy computer poop. I have this aunt named Gene who's, well, a bit of a jerk. One of those people who always wants to stir up drama, get people in trouble, cause fights, etc. When I was a teenager, she would go out of her way to try to get me in trouble with my parents because she said they were too lenient. At the time of the story, I was 14 years old, and I'd been a regular smoker for four years. My parents knew that I smoked, but had a don't ask, don't tell mentality about it.

They'd punish me if they caught me smoking at home or outside, but otherwise pretty much ignored it. This hands-off attitude drove dear old Auntie Jean nuts, so she would regularly try to out me for smoking to get me in trouble. This included demanding to smell my fingers when I came home, or if I'd been outside and out of stokely, sight for a while. If she smelled tobacco, she would rat on me to my mom, who would usually ground me for a day or two. One day, dear old Auntie Jean is visiting my mom, and they're sitting at the

table having a lovely little chinwag. I came home, went in to say hi, and immediately, dear old Auntie Jean demands to smell my fingers. I said, oh, wait a minute, I have to do something first, and ran upstairs before my mom finally got annoyed enough with dear old auntie Auntie Jean's whining to force me to let her sniff my digits. Dear old Auntie Jean yelled at me, I'd better not hear the water running, or I'll know that you wash the smoke stink off. So once upstairs, I went into the bathroom and proceeded to drop a nice stinky poo. I finished up as I normally would, but I didn't wash my hands. As per dear old Auntie Jean's orders. I came back down to the town into the

the kitchen and presented my hand for dear old Auntie Jean to sniff. She gave my fingers a good long inhale. Ew, that smells like poo, dear old Auntie Jean said. I nodded thoughtfully and said, okay, before turning to pour myself a cup of coffee. I had my back to them and there was a period of about 10 to 15 seconds of expectant silence as they waited for me to tell them what the smell was. Finally, my mom said, well, what was the smell? Oh, it's poo. Dear old Auntie Jean immediately began gagging and rushed to the sink. For some reason, the actual smell of poo didn't make her sick, but learning that it was poo did. Not sure if it's legitimately psychosomatic or just more drama, but she spent several minutes

retching in the sink. My mom was simultaneously amused, but slightly annoyed, and asked me why I did that. She told me not to wash my hands. I'm just following orders. You want to sniff my fingers, dear old Auntie Jean, enjoy a nose full of poop smell. The story cracked me up because asking to smell a teenage boy's fingers will inevitably result in one of two results. One, smelling poo

Or two, smelling ball sweat Because that's exactly the type of stunt You can expect a teenage boy to pull After getting harassed like this I mean, come on, what do you expect? Also, I'm a little concerned for O.P.'s health Because he clarifies he started smoking at 10 And he's drinking coffee at least at 14.

My God, O.P., eat some vegetables and go work out, please. Our next Reddit post is from Crazy Eho. Years ago, I worked in a meatpacking plant as a supervisor. It had its ups and downs, but overall it was good. Until a new production manager was hired. We'll call him Bob. Bob didn't come from the floor, or even from leadership. He had an engineering background.

Whatever, I'll try to keep an open mind. Well, my mind was only open for about four and a half minutes. The first day, the first time meeting him, he declares he's going to write the ship. Sure thing, boss, write the ship that's already sailing in the right direction. He declares that going forward there will be no more overtime. He states that we're pissing away money with the amount of overtime we pay. I ask for clarification. What about vacation coverage, sick calls, etc.

He replies, no overtime, no exceptions. Sure thing, boss man. Now, I should point out that the department I work in is massive. My direct team at the time was 70 people. There were other rooms that other supervisors looked after for a total of 200, 120 employees. Now, I'm assuming all of you reading this are infinitely smarter than Bob, and have figured out that with a team that size, we don't just get one sick call. We average seven per day. As for vacations, 10% of the workforce was our cutoff. Usually, we hovered at 12

people off each day. Not to mention leaves of absence, people leaving early, etc. So on Friday, I went to Bob one last time. I let him know that we're going to be short, 19 people next week and ask once more for him to approve overtime. I got a flat, no, in response. I considered going above him, but I figured letting the guy drown would be better. So I didn't ask for overtime. Employees were coming up to me. Boss, are you sure there's no overtime next week? Yes, I'm sure. Bob wants it that way. Come next week, two production lines aren't running. Bob comes up to me upset, demanding to know why two of the lines aren't running. Is it mechanical downtime? No, Bob. I have no one to run the line. He stammers something about staffing appropriately and having better planning.

I said, I asked you multiple times to approve overtime, and you said no each time. I was just following your direction. Cue him angrily storming off, with him yelling, get some effing people in here. Anyways, I have to call people at home and schedule overtime for the rest of the week because Bob sunk our ship instead of writing it. I couldn't staff those two production lines that day. For those wondering, us not running those two lines that day cost the company $120,000. No, I'm not exaggerating. Bob gets a strip torn off of him by his boss, a guy that I have known at that time for 10 years. The big boss came and spoke to me about it outside.

We both smoke, and he said, What the hell was he thinking? I thought engineers were supposed to be smart. I choked on my cigarette, laughing. Bob lasted about three months. I have a buddy who's an engineer over at Caterpillar. You know, they make the big cranes and bulldozers and stuff, and he says the number one rule of engineering is,

if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Our next Reddit post is from Financial Vehicle. I was 22 and fresh out of college with my graphic. design degree. My first gig was at an advertising company. We mainly did those really horrible print car ads that you got in your mailbox and immediately threw in the trash. You know the ones, only one font and it's huge and screaming at you. Every inch of space has a picture of car, cramming 50 cars into a 7 by 5 inch area. You know, trash. Fresh out of school, I foolishly made suggestions on how to make actual ads and not hot garbage. But it was made clear to me very quickly

and very aggressively that they won in trash. So I complied. Now, we had one client who was the client. He brought in the most money and bought the most trash ads from us. And he was also very specific on just how bad his ad should look. The font should be impact on all the ads, and it filled every corner of the paper. On one, One ad, I remember him demanding I squeeze over a hundred cars into a single space. It legit looked like a magic eye poster by the time that it went to print. I dealt with that guy and his unreasonable requests for over a year. Well, the guy amazingly got worse.

He started telling me which colors I could or couldn't use. And one by one, the colors dropped out. And eventually I had enough. After he said that I could no longer use orange, I said, Just to confirm, you do not like and don't want me to use red, orange, yellow, green, purple, pink, brown, white, or black? He confirmed, I said, okay. The only color left was blue. So I spent hours taking all the cars, all the fonts, all the text, and all the design elements,

and making them all the same exact blue. No shading, no highlights, just flat blue. The end result was one giant flat blue square, like someone took a paint roller over it. Now, I could have made a blue square in two seconds, but I spent hours using all the elements he told me to use to cover my own butt. Because when we sent that blue square to proof, the client, of course, blew up, called me screaming. I replied calmly that he told me the only color I could use was blue. I used all the pictures and elements he asked for and did exactly what he wanted and made them blue. Our calls were recorded, so I didn't get in any trouble with my boss.

And I got to waste several more hours remaking the same ad, but with the original car pictures and elements. It was a really fun day. That was our slash malicious compliance. And if you like this content, be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day. Hey, y'all's Kelly Clarkson with Wayfair. Ever order furniture online and wonder what if? Like, what if it doesn't hold up? That sofa was four days old.

You should have ordered from Wayfair. With Wayfair, there's no what if. Just style you love and quality you can trust. Visit Wayfair.ca. Wayfair, every style, every home.