rSlash - r/Nuclearrevenge They Beat Him with Baseball Bats

Episode Date: April 17, 2026

0:00 Intro 0:08 Gang revenge 10:12 Tax Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

One day, you're negotiating with suppliers. The next, you're installing a shelf in the back room. Running a business means moving in many directions all the time. TD's new small business banking accounts are built for how your business moves. It's how we're making banking more human. Welcome to R-slash nuclear revenge, where OP breaks a guy's kneecaps. Our next Reddit post is from Craigl-Tom. This isn't my story, but rather my dad's.

I know the believability of this might be hard, but I believe this story. to be true. My dad was a very nice and hardworking man with some of the greatest patience for BS I've ever seen. But he had a temper that could make an angry moose turn the other way if he was pushed far enough. Well, when this happened, he was definitely pushed far enough. He told me this story once and only once about 10 years ago and never spoke of it again. This story happened in the late 70s. My dad was a young man striking out on his own for the first time. He lived alone in a really bad part of town while a attending college and working at a gas station as a steady job. But the area had a lot of thugs and a lot of violence. There was a group of guys he knew from high school that just loved to mess with him. The first thing

they did was spray paint graffiti all over his car. Then they started harassing him every night he was coming home from work or class because they were always hanging around his building. The leader of the gang was a big guy that dad referred to as Ted. Ted was a relentless bully to several other kids in school. He beat up my dad many times over the years. But in high school, in particular, he hated my dad because Ted failed and dropped out during senior year, since they wouldn't let him play football with his failing grades anymore. My dad, on the other hand, finished with some pretty decent grades and got a partial scholarship to a local community college.

So to say that Ted resented my dad was putting it mildly. And one day, when my dad was going into his apartment, Ted and his gang ambushed him and beat him terribly in a back alley. My dad laid bloody and unconscious in that alley all night. He was found in the morning by an old lady walking her dog, and she called for help. He was in the hospital for months with several broken bones and head trauma. This caused him to lose out on a lot of college classes, and he had to retake them. Of course, he told police that it was Ted and his cronies that beat him up,

but the police weren't very good at their jobs. And they claimed they had no evidence that Ted did it, because he and his friends all supposedly had alibis and there were no other witnesses. Well, that did not sit well with my dad. He spent some time in physical recovery after getting out of the hospital and then moved to a new apartment with a friend as a roommate. And together, they plotted his revenge on Ted. My dad told me that back then, if police failed you, you took payback into your own hands. Now, a thing of note is that my grandfather on my dad's side worked at the city dump.

and he was always bringing things home to collect, donate, fix, or resell. My dad helped him out with this a lot. He learned a lot about fixing and making things. And while his father was at work, he found ways of sneaking into the dump at night. And as a teenager, he would sneak in there at night with friends to find stuff they used to build a hidden fort in the woods nearby. My dad said the fort was so well made that it even had a makeshift wood stove that they made out of recycled bricks and a metal barrel to use in winter to keep the fort warm. So over a few nights, my dad and his friends snuck into the dump just like they used to

in order to look around for things they could use. Bit by bit, they found some old stinky clothes, shoes, and some old wooden baseball bats and other useful things for the revenge. The dump also had an assortment of used tools the employees found in the trash and set aside to be used on site, but they were also regularly borrowed. So no one really kept track of them. My dad and his friends kept all the stuff they were going to use in the revenge at the 4. So they had the perfect place to build the tools of their revenge.

Next, they made sure they had as solid of an alibi as they could make. My dad and his friend were living on the top floor of an old three-story apartment building and was already well liked in the building for being handy and fixing a few things for his neighbors. The walls between the apartments were kind of thin, so the neighbors often heard the comings and goings of people on the same floor. They'd come out to greet my dad and his friend when they came home in the evening. and apparently the building had no fire escape, so the doors were typically the only way in or out. And the main door of the building was generally locked at night, with a clerk sitting watch the entire time.

My dad and his friend came home, checked in with the clerk, said their good evenings to several neighbors, and then locked themselves in their apartments. They waited till midnight and then used a knotted rope found at the dump to climb down three stories from their apartment window, which coincidentally was right above the dumpsters in the side alley. They hid part of the hanging rope behind a gutter pipe and then hoofed it a few miles to the old fort where they'd hidden what dad referred to as revenge cycles. He told me they were bicycles that they had pieced together from junk parts found in the dump that were built and modified using the borrowed tools to have mounts for carrying the baseball bats and a few other things they couldn't fit in backpacks that they needed to be ready without making too much noise or bogging them down. They rode the revenge cycles to the bungalow in an old neighborhood where ten were ten. was living with his friends, though squatting may be a better word. Dad said that it was a drug house

where dealing was regularly done, which was good in a way because that meant they wouldn't call the police unless they wanted to risk exposing their operation. My dad had scouted the area for a few nights to plan their attack, then waited for the perfect opportunity. First, my dad and his friend put on Halloween masks to cover their faces and took a tire iron that they'd brought and quietly removed the lug nuts from two of the wheels that were on Ted's crappy van. Then they spray painted an insignia that was used by another gang from the area on the side of the van to make it look like this was a rival gang dispute. My dad and his friend then spied on Ted and his gang for hours from the windows using homemade periscopes that were painted dull black so they wouldn't be seen. Ted and his

cronies spent some time getting drunk and high until Ted got so wasted he went to bed. My dad and his friend waited patiently for Ted to start snoring and quietly snuck into the house through the window of the room that he was sleeping in, locked the door from the inside, and bolstered it with a chair. Then, in unison, they bashed both of Ted's legs multiple times right on the kneecaps with the baseball bats. And when Ted tried to cover himself, they bashed his arms too. Then they held Ted down and emptied a plastic bag full of fresh, warm doo-doo. They both contributed to make all over Ted's face before getting the hell out of there fast because Ted was screaming. Ted's cronies couldn't get into the room before my dad and his friend were out of there.

They ducked into another yard and rode off on the revenge cycles from a different street before anyone saw them. They heard from other people in the area that Ted's cronies tried to load him into the van to take him to the hospital. But as soon as they got going, the wheels on the side of the van came off and they had to call an ambulance. Both of Ted's kneecaps were so badly broken that doctors said he would never fully recover and would have to walk with a cane for years. As for Ted's cronies, a few of them got arrested. Police came to the hospital to take a statement from Ted and noticed a couple of them didn't look so good. They asked them a few questions and searched them. They ended up in the slammer for drug possession, which prompted police to search the bungalow they were living in.

But some of the other guys were smart enough to move all the drugs to another location when they thought a rival gang was after them, so the cops didn't find much. Ted's remaining cronies later got cornered by my dad and his friend the next night when they followed them in their disguises on their revenge cycles to a back alley where they'd been known to regularly hang out and sell drugs. And this time, they brought a gun to hold them hostage with. My dad's friend held the gun, while my dad disarmed them all of some knives they were carrying and then beat them up with a bat. After the beatings were over, my dad and his friend claimed to be with a rival gang and told Ted's cronies that if they didn't leave town, they'd get something a lot worse than a simple beating. And for some added incentive, they sprayed one of their feet with lighter fluid and dropped a lit match onto them, causing the guy to freak out and kick his flaming shoes off.

This seemed to work, as all of them were gone from the city not long after that. My dad and his friend hid the revenge cycles and dropped the knotted rope from the window into the dumpster below, where they later retrieved it in the morning while taking the trash out and disposed of it. Police, of course, did eventually come to talk to my dad and his roommate, but they claimed no involvement in what happened to Ted. And neighbors and the apartment clerk all told them that they never left the building after getting home on those days. My dad and his roommate then let the police come into their apartment to search the place, But they didn't find anything that could be considered evidence, as they'd already disposed of the stuff they'd used by taking apart the revenge cycles.

And at night, they burned the baseball bats, masks, and shoes, and clothes they wore. And the knotted rope in the fort's barrel stove till there was nothing left but ash. As for the gun, well, my dad said that it was never real, but was instead a very realistic metal toy gun revolver that looked real enough in the dark to hold up to someone. They got rid of it by tossing it into the dump. The cops were satisfied that my dad had nothing to do with the incident and just bid them good day. My dad never told anyone else but me and his younger brother that he and his friend did all that. As for Ted, Dad said he never really bothered anyone again. And Ted ended up eventually leaving town some years later because he was convinced another gang was still out to get him.

But what happened to him after that, Dad didn't know. I could tell he felt some measure of guilt for what he did back then. but also seemed to feel fairly justified in it as well, since Ted had badly hurt many people around town, just like what he'd done to my dad. So I suppose it was well deserved on some level. But my dad adamantly told me to never try anything like what he did, and I can't say that I blame him. Our next Reddit post is from Fancy Cat. I seem like a nice, laid-back, easy-going person, so most people make the mistake of thinking I'm a spineless wimp they can take advantage of. Operative word there is seem. In point of fact, I have a vicious, vindictive temper. I'm just emotionally lazy. I don't like wasting time and energy on confrontation that can more profitably be spent elsewhere. However, if you mess with my family or my money, very bad things will happen to you. This happened about 20 years ago. I was working as a cad drafter for a small drafting a design firm, practically fresh out of college. I made a good salary, not great, but comfortable. Very soon, I found myself

as the drafter and receptionist and office manager and file clerk and even janitor when I needed to pick up a little extra money. My boss was almost never in the office because I was there to handle everything. After a year of working like this, on Friday the 13th, my boss comes to me and tells me he doesn't have my income tax paperwork ready but has a reasonable excuse and he asks me to file an extension. I told him, this is kind of last minute, don't you think? But okay, I'll do it. And I did. Every couple of weeks afterwards, I'd ask him about my tax paperwork, and he'd tell me no, not yet, and had umpteen excuses why not. Finally, he told me his lawyer had them and was finishing preparing them, and they'd be ready any day. Really? I did wonder why his lawyer was working on them instead of his accountant, but I didn't say anything.

My tax extension would be up on Sunday, July 15th, so I had to turn my taxes in by Saturday, July 14th. On Friday, July 13th, about 5 p.m., I was sitting in my office chatting with my mom, who was there to give me a ride home. My boss came into my office and had the gall to ask me to file another tax extension and gave me some totally bogus excuse. You see, what he didn't know was I had found all my tax paperwork on his computer a few weeks before. They just needed to be printed out and signed off.

So I knew he'd been lying his butt off this whole time. I remember staring at him for a few moments, absolutely dumbfounded, then smiling and saying, Okay, my mom told me afterwards. When she saw me smile at him like that, she thought, uh-oh, O-P's gonna kill this guy, and I don't know if I can stop her. I'm sure he wishes that's all I'd done to him. First thing Monday morning, I walked straight up to my boss and dropped my resignation on his desk. He was like, what the hell? And tried to argue. Me, I didn't argue. I just told him, I'm leaving. Do you want me to work my notice? He said, hell no, get your stuff and get out, which was another huge mistake in a long line of

them. Because I left and went straight to the IRS office, where I gave up all the goods on this guy. He apparently never actually paid any of my taxes or his, though he did take it out of my pay and I had proof. It so happens before he was a CAD designer, he was a CPA who left that field under a cloud. The IRS was not happy to hear his name again. Everyone knows you do not mess with the IRS. Not content with that.

I then contacted all of his business associates and told them what he'd done, that he was being investigated by the IRS. And if they didn't want to be investigated too, they might want to steer clear. I didn't tell his wife, whom I was on very good terms with, but only because I wanted him to have that pleasure. I'll give him this. He was stubborn. He managed to hang on to his business for about a year of living hell before going under.

But I smirked every time I went by his empty office. Down in the comments, O.P. explains that her boss was literally just skimming money out of her paychecks and paying it to himself. So this guy had it coming. 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. fans, your chance to witness history is here. You can win tickets to the FIFA World Cup 2026 final thanks to Visa. All it takes is a BMO Visa credit card to enter.

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