rSlash - r/Prorevenge Beat Your Wife? I'll Ruin Your Life!

Episode Date: September 5, 2023

0:00 Intro 0:08 Lawyers pro revenge 6:33 Lying neighbor 15:22 Terrible boss Visit BetterHelp.com/RSLASH today to get 10% off your first month Go to HelloFresh.com/50rslash and use code 50rslash for 50% off plus free shipping! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

To support sustainable food production, BHP is building one of the world's most sustainable cottage mines in Canada. Essential resources responsibly produced. It's happening now at BHP, a future resources company. Welcome to our slash pro revenge, where a wife-beater gets exactly what he deserves. Our next Reddit post is from called in the 90s. Let's call this guy Joe. I have to call him something, the man I ruined, but I can't call him by his real name, so

let's call him Joe. Joe was a wife-beater. I was hired by Joe's brother-in-law, the brother of the wife that Joe beat. My client was also Joe's ex-business partner. Aside from the whole, you beat up my sister thing, my client had another beef with Joe, a serious business beef. My client took it to court and gave me the case to handle. Joe and his lawyers fought me long and hard. Joe was confident that his BS and outright perjury would carry the day. It had always worked for him before. His BS and his fists had won him a good settlement with his ex-wife, free of child support, so maybe he thought that threats and lies would carry the day once more, but he was wrong. And after the trial,

I wanted judgment against him, a big judgment, far bigger than he could actually pay. Joe twisted and turned and shimmyed and shaked, but after a while, I'd located and taken all of his assets. It was easy, really. Joe had no thought of consequences, and so he didn't lawyer up until it was too late. If one of my clients ever sues you, you're in trouble, because my clients lawyer up before they even know your name.

But Joe didn't lawyer up until the process server through the papers at his feed and by then it was far too late. I went through Joe's assets like a meat grinder. And after a while Joe had but one property left, a house and he clung to that house because it was rented out and it was his sole source of income. Joe lived in the unfinished basement and he survived on what the upstairs tenants paid him. He cashed their rent checks at payday loan places, paying hefty fees, but it was worth it. Because he knew that I would garnish any bank account that he opened. Joe managed

to hide his rental place from me for a while, because he owned it through a numbered company, but my investigator found him one day and followed him home. Joe represented himself through the next stage, which took a couple of years while I punctured his corporate veils and his sad efforts at a fraudulent conveyance. But in the end, I took his last house, the house where he lived in the unfinished basement. Joe stepped out one day to get a pack of cigarettes, and when he came back, the sheriff had changed the locks. Can my client at least live in the basement? Joe's lawyer said to me, pro bono, because by this point, Joe had nothing to pay the lawyers.

I knew the pro bono lawyer. He practiced law nearby. I said, ask the purchaser, it's out of my hands, because it was out of my hands. I told Joe's lawyer that the new owner wouldn't let him back into his crummy basement apartment. Joe, a man who owned property all over town had just lost the last thing that he owned on Earth. Well, except for his truck. He still had his truck left. Joe's truck was this huge gas guzzling beast that he drove around in. It was too old and too frail to be worth seizing, so I let Joe keep it, and I was glad that I did that, because now the truck was where Joe slept.

That is, until he made a mistake, and he lost his truck too. He lost his truck the day that I got a phone call from the tenants of the house that Joe used to own. The tenant said, he came back and parked the truck across the driveway. Adding that Joe had gone nuts, he parked his truck in his former driveway out of rage, out of spite, and then walked into town, saying that he'd be back later that day and sleep in his truck. I asked, can you get around the truck? The tenant could not, because the driveway was blocked. So I

called a tow truck company, and in a couple hours the truck was gone, and parked somewhere else, somewhere special, in accordance with my specific instructions. The next day, the pro bono lawyer called me and said, my guy wants his truck back. Not happening, I said. But you have no right to the truck, the lawyer said. He has no right to block a man's driveway, I replied. It was terrible, really, taking this man's final asset, the last thing he owned on Earth. I imagine that this must be what God feels like before he strips a man of everything and sends him to hell.

Are you really going to take me to court over this? Said the pro bono lawyer. Do what you got to do, I said. The lawyer said that his client was coming in the next day to sign an affidavit, and then they were going to court to get the truck back. But I was unconcerned. The next day was bright, and the sun was shining as I looked out my window and sit my coffee.

My phone rang, I picked up. It was pro bono man. Why didn't you tell me that Joe's truck was parked right outside my office? The lawyer's voice was tight. I could tell that he must have been shaking with anger. Is that so, I said? How careless of my bailiff to leave the truck where your client could easily take it back. I really must speak to him.

Very funny. My client's gonna sue. No, he isn't. He's gonna get in that truck and drive away right now. I told my tow guy to fill up the tank and he gave it an oil change on me. Tell your client to get in this truck and drive off and then if I ever see that truck again, I'll seize it to satisfy the rest of my client's judgement. Pro Bono guy tried to argue, but I was firm.

Then I put down my phone and picked up my coffee. As he walked out, there was no longer a bounce in his step. The joy had left him. After that, I never heard from Joe again. You know, a bounce in a step. The joy had left him. After that, I never heard from Joe again. You know, this story unlocked a memory. I remember when I was in elementary school. Someone mentioned a wife-beater shirt, and I was like, a wife-beater shirt. What's a wife-beater shirt?

And they explained what it was, and I said, why are they called wife-beaters? And the kid I was talking to was like, I don't know, I guess because the people who wear them beat their wives. And me being like an innocent eight-year-old whose parents had a relatively healthy relationship, I was like, what? Why would anyone want to beat their wives? You're supposed to love your wife.

Why would you marry someone you love and then beat them? Huh? So I guess where I'm going with this is wife-beers deserve to suffer. As the world's population grows, so does the need for resources like potash to support sustainable food production. This is why BHP is building

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plus a scratch-and-win card where everyone's a winner. Download the Swiss Shalais app to place an order for delivery today. Visit SwissShalais.ca for contest details while supplies last. Our next reddit post is from Valadian. This happened about five or six years ago. For some context, my neighbor, Chester, is your stereotypical weekend outdoorsman type. He owns at least ten different baseball caps and they all have camo on them. He's one of those types of people.

He drives a Jeep, which will be important later, and usually spends his weekends either hunting, fishing, or prepping for when the bombs drop. I tried to explain to him once that we were within the Fallout range of a major city, so if we got hit, we'd be screwed either way, but whatever. Everyone needs a hobby, and some people's hobby is collecting canned peaches. Two weeks before the revenge, I came outside to see that my car had a broken window on the passenger side, and that part of the frame was dented just above the door handle. I can tell immediately from the size and shape of the dent exactly where it came from.

As I said, my neighbor Chester drives a Jeep and mounted on his front grill as a cable winch that he uses for pulling stumps and whatnot. It juts out almost a foot in a half in front of the bumper and is made of solid metal. Anyone with a picture of the winch and the shape of the dent in my car could see as I add just from eyeballing it. The dent is almost identical to the winch and situated at the same height that the winch was mounted. On top of that, Chester lives directly across the street from me and he likes to back into his driveway. Conveniently enough, my car is always parked on the street, so he has ample opportunities to hit it. I asked Chester about it, and without saying anything, he shook his head while biting his

lip like some kind of clueless cartoon character. I then asked if anyone who borrowed his car might have done it because the winch itself was pretty scratched up. Almost like he had been ramming it into things all over town. Again, Chester silently shakes his head and then tries to tell me that it was probably teenagers. No exposition mind you, he just blamed it on teenagers. I was fuming, but I kept my composure and went home to call the cops in my insurance company to report the damage. I managed to get a competent police officer who told me point blank that it was clear what

happened, but without a witness it would be pointless to try to prove it. The insurance agent was equally certain of Chester's guild, but ended up recommending that I pay out of pocket for the repair. Since I was parking on the street, that was a factor the insurance company might use against me if I filed a claim. It was a raw deal for sure, but at least the guy was honest with me. Fast forward to two weeks later. Chester and his family are going up north to rough it in nature for a week. And despite my cold attitude towards him in recent days, he asked me to keep an eye on his house while he was gone, since I'm the only person in the neighborhood that he trusts,

apparently. I agreed to it. Not because I had any type of revenge in mind, but because he gifted me a large case of beer for my service. His one request was that I call him if we had any extreme weather because he needed me to check on something. Two nights after he left, we had a nasty storm. Wind, hail, and even a few rolling blackouts.

The next morning, I called Chester to ask what he needed me to check on, but he didn't answer. Knowing Chester, he'd probably set up camp in some rural part of America with no cell, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, frequently a moat after heavy rain. I went into his garage where there was no flooding, but something caught my eye immediately. Four large freezer chests lined up side by side, taking up a huge chunk of the garage wall. I peaked inside one and immediately realized what Chester was worried about. All four of the freezers were packed from floor to lid with meat. Some of it was still in packages from the grocery store, and some of it was wrapped in butcher paper.

It was likely game picked up from Chester's hunting exploits. But on top of one of the freezers was something else that seemed out of place. It was a red solo cup full of frozen water, with a penny sitting on top. I thought it was weird and dismissed it immediately, but curiosity got the better of me later that day when I got home. I decided to google it, and what I learned instantly clicked as a way to get ultimate revenge on Chester for hitting my car and sticking me with the repair bill. There's an old life hack that people used to use when they went on vacation. You freeze a couple water, then place a penny on top of it and stick it in your freezer.

If the power goes out, the water will eventually melt and the penny will fall to the bottom of the cup. If you return home and the penny is at the bottom of the cup, that means that your freezer was off for an extended period of time. And now everything in your freezer has potentially defrosted and become unfit for consumption. I immediately got up and ran back to Chester's garage to scope out the legitimacy of my nefarious deed. As luck would have it, Chester's circuit breaker was hidden near a tool shelf, not directly visible to the naked eye. Who would put a shelf in front of a

circuit breaker? Chester, of course. So, I promptly took the cup out of the freezer and sat it on Chester's porch to let it get a little sun. After a few hours, the ice had melted enough that the penny slipped right to the bottom of the cup. I then put the cup back in the freezer, being very careful to position it exactly where it was when I took it out, before moving on to the last phase of my insidious plan. I started blowing up Chester's phone with calls and frantic text messages. Chester, where's your circuit breaker? I can't find it in your powers off.

Get back to me ASAP. I did this countless times over the next two days before I finally got a call back from Chester. He immediately told me where to go in his garage to find the circuit breaker, which of course I already knew thanks to my prior detective work. I flipped the breakers, and with that my revenge was complete. All that was left was for Chester to come back home, which took another two days. When Chester got back home, I was nervous, but eager to see if my charade

had worked. The next day, I got a knock on my door. It was Chester. He asked me if I wanted some meat to give to my dogs. Apparently, the power had been off for too long, and all the meat in his freezers had thawed out while he was gone, so he was throwing it out. I asked him how much meat he had, and he said that it was probably somewhere close to 300 pounds. He didn't want to waste it all, so he asked if I wanted to give some to my dogs. I graciously helped myself to roughly half a freezer's worth of meat, some of which I stored in my own fridge, and the rest, Chester was nice enough to offer to hold on to in his freezer until I needed it.

The kicker is that Chester had no idea the meat never actually defrosted and it was still perfectly good. That night, I helped myself and my dogs to a couple of nice steaks. courtesy of Old Chester himself, who was still busy walking the neighborhood, unloading the tainted meat on anyone who had a cat or a dog that might want it. It was at least four or five months before me and my dog went through all the meat chest or a given us. I don't know if I made all my money back for the repairs on my car, but I didn't have to buy any meat for months.

Opie, I like the Revenge and all, it's pretty good revenge, but it's just needlessly elaborate. If you wanted to, you could have just literally walked over to his garage, steal as much meat as you want, and like, what's he gonna do about it? There's no way witness is, so you can't prove it, right? It's kind of funny to me because I read so many stories about revenge, sometimes you get stories where people are just like, okay,

I'm gonna destroy this person's life, I will stop it nothing to make them suffer. And then you get stories from people like OP where obviously you can tell that deep down OP is a really good person and OP doesn't want to break any laws, they don't want to hurt any feelings. OP wants to get revenge but they don't want to be mean because deep down they're just not a mean person so they can cock this unnecessarily elaborate plan where they did lie about the circuit breaker and melt a penny and trick the person into being the victim of revenge when come on OP you could just walked over there grab some steaks come back cook

your steak and had your revenge like that you could you could have broken a window walked into his bedroom and peed on his bed you know I'm not saying you should have it's just it's funny to me when good people, like deep down good people, try to be evil because they're not very good at it. So no shade, OPM, I'm not trying to criticize you. This revenge is pretty good. It's just, you know, it's just funny to me, man. Our next reddit post is from NoCat. This was several years ago. So my boss, an extreme type A personality, found out that I was seeing a young lady at another one of our offices.

It was a long-distance relationship. He was the type who liked to control everything and mess with people for fun. He was also married to another employee, but he was very unfaithful. He also had a hobby, photography, and he liked to take pictures of themselves and his con quests in the act, so to speak. Then he would show the pictures around the production floor and brag about it. Well, on his next trip to the other office, he tried to get my girlfriend to sleep with him, but she spurned him.

So he made up some lies to get her fired. It took a long time, but I was patient. I knew that he kept the photos in his office. He couldn't risk keeping them at home where his wife might stumble upon them. One Saturday, I was working overtime and the cleaning lady came through. They unlocked his office. I came in acting like I was taking dimensions on some drawings. The cleaning lady just asked me to close the door when I was finished. The cleaning lady left and went towards accounting. That's when I went through

this guy's desk. Sure enough, in the back of one drawer, I found a stack of photos four inches tall. I took them all. Then I waited until he went on another trip. When he did, I went out for lunch and I had dozens of pictures of him in the act with four different women, all showing his face and the women all had dark or red hair. His wife, by the way, is a blonde. I drove to the town that he lives in, to the closest post office to his house, and mailed the pictures to his wife with no return address. She divorced him and her lawyer took him to the cleaners. My girlfriend is now my wife and we aren't mad anymore.

That was our Slashpower of Inge and if you like this content be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.