rSlash - r/Nuclearrevenge Grandpa Fed a Guy to Gators

Episode Date: February 28, 2026

0:00 Intro 0:07 Life ruined 4:02 Bullying 8:28 Blind 12:15 Everglades Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Our next Reddit post is from No Anteater. My parents came to the United States in 1987 from Zacatecas, Mexico. A few of my uncles and aunts were living here in South Central L.A. before my parents came. I have five siblings, two sisters, and three brothers. I'm the youngest now at 18 years old. My sister is three years older than me, now 21. She was 13 at the time of this story. My uncles were gang-affiliated, and my eldest uncle, now 62, was an amazing tattoo artist.

My dad wasn't a gang member, but was well known in our city for participating in gang activity, but was never jumped in. One of my uncles threw a party for his daughter's birthday. Practically anyone who wanted in the party was allowed to join in. I know, a stupid mistake for them. My sister was left alone at the party, sleeping in my cousin's room, since our parties always ended up going until the next morning. The door to my cousin's room did not have a lock. As my sister was sleeping, she felt someone touching her. As she woke up, she realized it was the boyfriend of one of our older cousins.

He was 19 at the time. Nothing was known beyond that until a month later when my sister finally told my mom. It was brave of her since she was only 13. Many people at that age keep quiet for years. By then, everyone in my dad's part of the family became aware of this, including my older cousin, the one with the P-word boyfriend. She was heartbroken, but agreed on something with her dad. She set up her then-boyfriend into meeting with her at a local park.

My dad, along with my uncles and a few members, waited at the park at around 9 p.m. in a very lonely, barely lit, quiet part of the park. A friend of my uncle named Santee had a small RV where they waited. This piece of trash arrived at the park. That's when my dad and the rest ran up to him and started beating him up until they dragged him into the RV. Once inside, they still continued to beat the stuffing out of him until they arrived at my uncle's place, the one who did tattoos. Once they arrived, they took him inside where my uncle was ready with all of his equipment and gave him some new artwork all over his face, neck, head, and hands.

All over, he had writing indicating that he was a P-word, including an extremely big tattooing. two across his forehead all the way to the right side of his head. They waited until he woke back up around 2 a.m. They dumped him in front of his father's house. He wasn't to be discovered by neighbors until the son came out. My father left a heavy, well-written note on the door of this guy's house. This note led to the guy's dad giving him his own set of beatings and finally kicking him out of the house. Surprisingly, one of his friends let him stay with him for a while until a month after the incident. Him and two of his friends were found guilty on a murder charge. Apparently, the murder happened around three months before this whole incident. The P-word was charged with a second-degree

murder along with a few other charges. He was sent up to Chino Penitentiary. Two months in the pen, he was assaulted, beat, and finally killed by some African-Americans getting shanked three times in the chest with a screwdriver. I'm not sure if this happened due to his tattoos indicating that he was a P-word, or if it was mostly a race thing. Regardless, if any of this didn't happen, he would have still been taken to the pen due to his conviction. So my uncles and father have no guilt for this. My older cousin understandably mourned his death for a while, as it was so unexpected for him to turn out to be such a piece of trash in this world. They were together for three years prior to this incident. As for my sister, she's doing well for herself, currently attending Cal State Long Beach. I don't know if this is true,

having never been to prison myself, but I've heard that P-words are quite universally despised in prison. So maybe that's why it went down. Our next Reddit post is from those webs. When I was younger, especially through middle school, I dealt with bullying and toxicity constantly. This situation happened when I was in seventh grade. During that time, I was progressively bullied by a group of kids I'll call the Goonies. I am not a small person and I never have been. Around that time, I was around 5'11, 150 pounds.

Although I was big for my age, I had never been one to fight back. I have impulse control issues and ADHD, so when I get worked up, I have a hard time calming down, or I got overboard. Even so, I could mostly hold back my emotions when I was on medication. The Goonies were the group of kids who constantly made my life hard throughout school. The group consisted of 5 to 6 kids, mostly small, and on the football team, but, due to their numbers, they had an advantage over most people in the school. They consistently preyed on people who were without a group. Most of the time, they just took food items during lunch and asked for money from others. On the bad days, they would fight others and take whatever

they wanted. They had been praying on me and my group of friends for a while, mostly talking trash and taking food. This time was different, though. I had worn my grandfather's chain and cross to school. I had gotten it as an inheritance when he passed away. the week before. When I tell you that it meant a lot to me, it did. My grandfather was my pride and joy. We had the best relationship, as my father was mostly out of town working. He'd never been in the best health, but he got lung cancer a few months before and passed on. The chain was all I really had besides some model train sets and a ukulele. That day, I wore my chain to remove some of the grief that I was feeling from his passing to make it through the day. My friends knew about the

and were trying to comfort me throughout the day. But the one class I don't have with them was Jim, and in our school, we're required to remove jewelry before class. That part was uneventful. The problem was when I went back to the locker room. All the goonies had Jimmed the period after me, so I would see them when I was in the locker room. As I walked in and took my chain out of my locker, one of them took notice and immediately asked what I had in my hand. I, of course, wanting to not cause problems, said nothing important. I went to the bathroom to put it on, and when I walked out, all of them were waiting for me. They started to tell me to give them what was around my neck. In that moment, I was on the verge of tears because I didn't want to lose one of the only things I had left to remember my grandfather.

So I made a run for it. They blocked the door and started punching and kicking me, and I didn't want to cause a fight because I knew that it would get out of hand, and up until then, I had a perfect school record. When they stopped, I sat up and tried to leave. The main goony, the leader of the pack, grabbed the chain and ripped it off of me, breaking it and mangling the cross that my grandfather took such pride in. He started laughing as I stared at him in pure disbelief. I saw red.

I lost it and started pummeling the main kid, grabbing him by his collar and smashing his head over and over again into the concrete, while his friends watched screaming, trying to pry me away. The gym teacher heard all the commotion and came in running, yanking me away from the main goon and locking me in his office. He called the nurse in an ambulance. He was freaking out. I got suspended for three months due to cameras in the hall. The camera saw them jumping me. The only reason I didn't get arrested was because of that camera. Thank God for technology. This might not seem like nuclear revenge yet, but here's the list you were waiting for. Injuries, fractured skull, broken nose, broken jaw, eight lost teeth, severe brain damage.

He was out for four months with some time in the hospital. He didn't make it back onto the football team due to the fear that his head would get hit. His grades also took a hit and he had to repeat two years. My group, on the other hand, has been free from bullying ever since. So what do you guys think? Did I take it too far or was it deserved? Let me know in the comments. I do definitely think the bully deserved to get their butts whooped,

but to this degree, to the degree of losing teeth and brain damage, probably not. But hey, this is our slash nuclear revenge, where no one really stops to ask, should I have done that? Our next Reddit post is from SCP. Once upon a time, there was a kid, Marco. Marco was your everyday kid, a little skinny. I remember him being slightly geeky. If you left your pens unattended, he disassembled them before you'd disassembled him

before you turn back around in your seat at times. He was nice, polite, and fairly helpful. This was in middle school. One day, though, he disassembles the pen of a bully. Let's call the bully Polo. Polo is huge, but with fat. Polo looks like if you drilled three holes in him, a giant could use him for bowling.

He's not nice. He's not handsome. He's got a posse of equally disgusting friends who all gang up together to bully others. I suspect that if they hadn't ganged up with each, other, they would have been bullied. Perhaps they had been in the past and got a taste of power over others when they ganged up. I don't know. I kept him myself. One day, I see Marco with a swollen eye and wet hair. He's limping a bit too, and his backpack is ripped. I ask him what the hell happened. Turns out,

Polo threw him into a bathroom stall by his backpack, which ripped. The toilet got him in the knee and Polo shoved his face in the toilet water bashing his eye into the seat. I asked him, why Polo did this to him, and he says it's because he took his pin apart. It was just a bit crystal or some cheap pin like that. Things escalate over the next few weeks. Eventually, Marco has to take time off when Polo strips him naked in the bathroom except for his boxers and makes him shove his clothes into the toilets. The school, being full of your typical buttholes, tries to expel Marco for damage to school property and does nothing to Polo. This is stopped by video evidence of the gang leaving the bathroom, laughing and rifling through Marco's backpack,

then tossing it in the trash. When Marco comes back, he's different. He's not happy. He's quiet, subdued. He doesn't talk to anyone, and bruises magically appear on him between classes. He withdraws into himself and begins to look positively skeletal. Of course, no one at the school does anything except the one nice jock. The jock comes across polo stealing Marco's backpack and folds polo into a trash can. Of course, the jock is suspended, but he does it again when he comes back. The teachers give up on suspending the jock after his parents threatened to sue. The fact that someone bothered to stand up for Marco, though, seems to have given life back to him. He starts opening back up and putting weight back on, which is very good. One day, though, he's wearing a scarf. And

a very special, beautiful, knitted scarf. His grandfather had knit it for him before he died. Polo steals the scarf and comes back the next day with a bag of ashes, handing it to Marco. He laughs hysterically. Marco comes back the next day with a backpack full of sugar-free haribou gummy bears. Polo, being the glutton that he is, steals every single bag of bears and eats them by the fistful throughout the day. Marco cries, but I remember that something in his sobs did.

quite reach his eyes. Near the end of the school day, Polo lurches out of the classroom and bolts for the bathroom. He doesn't come back the next day. Or the next. Someone says they saw blood in the bathroom. Polo comes back a few days later with an eye patch and modelled, fading, bruising all across his face. He's permanently blind in his left eye, and the bruising makes him look like a ripening fruit for as long as it lasts. He's in and out of school for doctor's appointments for a while. He didn't mess with Marco again and instead became very introverted and quiet. The reports of blood in the toilet of the bathroom he went to were never confirmed, but it's quite likely. Our next Reddit post is from Demo the Wiz. Back when my friend's

great-great-grandfather was in his early 20s, he had been very close with this one family. They were described to me as a family of swamp people, but Floridian. There was the grandfather, father, mother, uncle, two daughters, and three brothers that lived in this little trailer park in the woods. They kept to themselves and didn't bother anyone. My friend's great-great-grandfather only knew them because he had met the youngest daughter while in school and were dating. He got a job from the grandfather and was kind of absorbed into the family. He worked in their bait shop with the uncle and life went on. Well, one day, the eldest daughter went to a party that some local boys were throwing and dragged her sister along. The guy and the uncle were at the bait shop. The

mother and father were at home. No one knew where the three brothers were, and the grandfather was on the couch napping his sixth beer away. During the party, the two sisters split apart, and the younger one ended up getting pulled away by two guys. They did, you know what, and then ran when the older sister found them. News got back to the family quick, and as my friend put it, the brothers miraculously materialized and the old man rose. For the next week, the men of the family search for those boys and found them. They weren't locals. They were visiting family. But the men broke into their home, beat them up, tied them up, and took them deep into the Everglades. In the glades, the grandfather handed my buddy a revolver and said,

She's your woman. So my buddy took the gun. My buddy thought about just shooting them did then and there, but instead shot them each in one leg and told them, if you find your way back, I guess I'll forget you. Then my buddy and his family left. Those guys were never heard from again. They never came out of the glades, and their truck was later sold to a neighbor by family members. My friend told me he asked why the guy didn't just shoot them, and he said, I wanted to see if God would forgive them, because I wouldn't. That was our slash nuclear revenge, and if you like this content, be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.