rSlash - r/Nuclearrevenge I Cost My Dumb Neighbor $80,000
Episode Date: November 13, 20250:00 Intro 0:06 Smoking 5:46 Service records 8:50 Speaking up Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices...
Transcript
Discussion (0)
Boarding for flight 246 to Toronto is delayed 50 minutes.
Ugh, what?
Sounds like Ojo time.
Play Ojo? Great idea.
Feel the fun with all the latest slots in live casino games and with no wagering requirements.
What you win is yours to keep groovy.
Hey, I won!
Boarding will begin when passenger Fisher is done celebrating.
19 plus Ontario only. Please play responsibly.
Concerned by your gambling or that if someone close, you call 1866-3-3-1-2-60 or visit comixonterio.ca.
Get you and your crew to the big shows with Go Transit.
Go connects to all the main concert venues like TD Coliseum in Hamilton and Scotia Bank Arena in Toronto.
And Go makes it affordable with special e-ticket fares.
A one-day weekend pass offers unlimited travel across the network on any weekend day or holiday for just $10.
And a weekday group pass offers the same weekday travel flexibility from $30 for two people and up to $60 for five.
Buy yours at gotransit.com slash tickets.
Welcome to R slash Nuclear Revenge, where O.P. Gives his neighbor an $85,000 fine.
Our next Reddit post is from NIM.
Heads up in his next post, OPE uses the word Bogan, and I don't know Australian slang super well.
I think Bogan is an acceptable word to say, and not something I have to, like, bleep out.
My understanding is that Bogan is roughly the same as like white trash or redneck or something to that effect.
So if I should bleep this word out, I'm sorry, you guys.
My street is usually quiet.
We mostly all own our houses, except for the odd one in each street that's a rental.
Due to the area improving, we don't have the usual trouble that used to occur.
But there are those moments that make things annoying and unpleasant.
And the new renter directly across the road from me became one of those unpleasant things that needed
to be weeded out.
My house is on a slight decline, living on the low side of the street, so my driveway slopes down
to my garage.
And from the other side, if you sat down there, you're invisible to the
the prying eyes of the houses on the opposite side. So recently, I started finding cigarette butts
around where I placed my bins. No biggie. I just started tossing them into the trash and pondered
who the hell's been smoking here. A few days go by and I wasn't at work. And on a day off cleaning
in the garage, sometimes I would notice my neighbor from across the street pop up on the top
end of my driveway, then turn about. This struck me as a little odd. This kept up and I just kept
putting the stray butts into the bin. But it annoyed me. Why smoke here and then not flick them into the
bin? It's less than two meters from the bin. So I had a chat with my wife, and I asked her if she had
noticed anyone doing this. Despite the obvious disturbed look she gave me, she said she had no clue.
So I knew it wasn't anyone here in my house. It's just the two of us and eight cats and two dogs.
They lack opposable thumbs to operate a lighter, so option B was set up a wireless camera with motion
detection, and I installed the app on my phone to alert me, which was possibly one of my better
ideas for the day. It didn't take long to see where the butts were coming from. The next
bloody day, my neighbor got caught, super brazen. This douchebag swaggeres down to my driveway,
puts his butt in park on it, and lights one up, less than two meters from the bins. He smokes the
cigarette dry and then flicks it at my bins and wanders back to his nest. That brazen effing,
littering grunt bag. I had to do something, but first I had to give him a chance. So the next time I
had off work, I waited for the ping from the app. And sure enough, there he was on rinse and repeat
mode. Not wanting to risk startling him and have him scatter like the cockroach he was,
I went out the back door and round the side of my house and out towards the front. As I approached,
he had just finished up, flicked the butt at the bins, and stood up as he turned around to find me.
The proverbial deer in hidlights as he spotted me does not quite cover it.
What felt like an eternity after he had just processed that he had got busted?
What the F do you want?
Escaped his lips.
I just asked, mate, if you're going to do that, at least smother the butt and put it in the bin.
All this bog and trash could reply with was,
you don't own this part of the strip?
Counsel does.
And you can't make me do anything.
Thinking he had just won the Olympic gold medal for being a grunt,
He shoves past me, walks across the road, and returns to his nest.
All right, douchebag, no medal for you. Game on.
So from there, every time this guy smoked, I would put the cigarette butt in a Ziploc bag and then write the time and date on them.
This is what I did for a year. Collect his butts, write the time and date on the bag, and show it to the camera for authenticity.
This guy left so many cigarette butts. I wanted this, he wanted this, who was I to deny him?
So from there, I submitted every single Ziploc bag with corresponding video evidence as a report
to the council's website. It took a few days, but one day I got the hint that something was going
down. First, my neighbor got a letterbox stuffed with mail. That's weird. The next day were
some angry noises coming from the house, like real loud. It sounded like a huge blowup between him
and his missus. Thankfully, someone who lived next to him called the police, and that shut them up for a bit.
And then I get a letter from the council asking me to send them the cigarette butts as evidence.
So, I mail them off and be done with it.
The next day, I thought I was having a stroke.
This can't be real.
I've never seen this Bogan in an effing suit before.
Well, it turns out, my littering neighbor got charged $250 for each individual offense.
And there were 345 offenses.
Well, let's just say he left for court for the day and he did not return.
But eventually a moving truck turned up and out came the internals of the house.
TV, fridge, sofa, bed, angry-looking woman crying kids.
Okay, I feel a little bad for them, but considering who spawned them, not so much as an ounce of regrets.
Eventually, I found out that he took a plea for community service and a whopping fine over jail time,
which caused his wife to leave him.
So now, this guy has to burn the candle at both ends for both the fine, the community service, and child support.
Godspeed, my rotten Bogan.
Godspeed and good riddance, you grunt.
For context, $250 fine times $345 individual instances equals $86,250.
Our next Reddit post is from Most Agreed.
This happened a few years back.
My dad found out that he's super allergic.
to some kind of shrub in central Texas after he was transferred there, Fort Hood.
As a result, he was restricted to office work and prohibited by army doctors from outdoor duties.
His West Point grad commanding officer was a hyper-warier kind of dude,
who detested soldiers who didn't want to train 24-7.
Unfortunately, he thought that my dad was milking his allergies in order to avoid being a real soldier.
My dad was also married, and my mom was pregnant with my older sister,
a situation that infuriated the captain because of reasons.
The commanding officer never, ever passed an opportunity to humiliate my dad by questioning his manhood,
doubting his commitment to protecting the Constitution, disparaging his duties, etc.
The commanding officer would call him out in front of the company or debase him in front of higher headquarters staff.
He'd call the house at 6 a.m. on Sunday and ordered dad in for BS reasons, anything to piss him off.
In short, he made his life a living hell.
For what it's worth, the first sergeant loved my dad's work performance and said so privately.
Well, my dad found out that the CEO was working on a project that if it went well, would lead to the CEO's promotion.
So, dad decided to screw with the CO's official records before leaving.
As company clerk, my dad had full access to unit personnel files, orders, etc., which also meant that he has keys to the building as well.
This was during the pre-digital pre-computer era.
The night before my dad was to get out, he took all the captain's personnel folders and mailed them separately and anonymously to various posts around the globe, knowing full well it would take weeks to deliver them to geographically unrelated unit mail rooms around the world, which may or may not open the packages in order to return them.
It just so happened that the unit was in the field for a two-week exercise on the day my dad left, which meant a skeleton,
crew would man the phones and mow lawns until they returned from the field. No one was the wiser
for weeks. One of my dad's old poker-playing sergeant buddies wrote a few months later telling him
that the captain went ballistic, that the missing files seriously damaged this captain's career
prospects, since some of the files were lost in the system. Therefore, the CO's coveted assignment
orders were canceled, and the entire personnel record had to be reconstructed manually by the
Department of the Army. My dad said that it was a teaching moment for this cruel butthole that you should
never screw with your unit clerk, because even chairborne rangers know how to seriously wound
enemies, foreign or domestic. Down in the comments, we have this funny line from Anonymous Delta.
I'm an administrative assistant in the Singapore Army, and I can attest to the power of the desk.
We have a saying, we have the power to cripple an army, our army. Even though it's a joke,
very real consequences can and will happen if we don't do our jobs.
Our next Reddit post is from Lowell What Mufflers.
Many years ago, I worked at an automotive repair shop that was owned by a very nasty person.
This person actually had two shops that he ran, and the best way I can describe him was as a tyrant.
Both shops had cameras, and he would watch us work from the comfort of his home.
If he saw something he didn't like, such as taking a five-minute smoke break, or not sweeping for half a minute
during downtime, or if he just wanted to bust balls, he would call the shop and harass us.
Or, better yet at times, he would show up and harass us in person. In addition, he would regularly
berate us for no reason, threatened to not pay us because the shops weren't busy, and would have
an absolute meltdown if you dared question his authority. It was spectacular, in the worst
of ways. After working for him for a few months and dealing with his shenanigans and getting sick of
pointless arguments with him, I started reconsidering my employment there. Around the same time,
the owner decided to move me from one shop to the other, really for no reason other than likely to
try to push me out, as that was what he did with the few people that I'd already worked with.
I genuinely disliked the idea of working at this other shop. It was older and a bit run down.
Plus, it was in a pretty terrible area with high crime. But I wanted to line something up
elsewhere before I jumped ship, so I made the move. This is where the beginning of the end started
for old Mr. Owner. Once I got settled into the new shop, I got to talking with my fellow technicians.
As it turns out, the owner was unsurprisingly a racist scumback, and every single one of the
employees at this location, aside for me, was African American. I'll spare you the details,
but let's just say it's a miracle that the owner came into the shop, said what he said, and walked out
breathing. In addition, he would regularly send people home with no pay for the day just to be a
turd. This went on for a few weeks, him coming by, being nasty to all of us, and I was over it.
And I was just about to leave as I had lined up other employment. The other techs were also over
it. I went to give the owner my two weeks notice via phone, discreetly, which I should have known
wasn't a great idea. And instead of discussing it like a human, he decided to come down and talk
face to face. Well, the owner was so incensed that I put my notice in that he forced me to
clock out and go home, and also forced two other texts who decided to stand up for me to do the same.
I decided that I had enough of this guy's shenanigans, and that not only did he deserve to have
some kind of reciprocation against him, but the other texts deserve better than to be
continuously walked on. So I filed a complaint with the Department of Labor and outlined everything.
Within a few days, they'd launched an investigation, and of course, the owner found out who filed the complaint and called the shop and gave me hell about it, stupidly, because the phones he had were on recorded lines.
Guess who requested to listen to that conversation? In the end, he terminated me before my two weeks were up, as were the two texts who stood behind me.
I filed for unemployment, which he fought me on by filing appeals with a judge, then not showing up three times in a row.
This prompted the judge to bar him from requesting appeals against me and granting me full unemployment pay.
Months later, I got a written letter from him extending an apology and an offer to work for him.
Two months later, I got a letter from the Department of Labor saying the investigation was closed,
and that he had been found guilty of multiple charges and was barred from operating a shop or any other business in the state for several years.
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.
