rSlash - r/Prorevenge Call Me Slurs? I'll Get You FIRED!

Episode Date: August 20, 2022

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Welcome to R-slash Pro Revenge, where a racist douchebag gets fired. Our next reddit post is from Hindergul, so both my first and last name are common, and they're commonly used by racist douchebags, mostly in the deep south, to name their kids. And the recombination of genetics and upbringing, those kids tend to grow up to be racist douchebags too. Because my name is so common, there's almost always been another person with my same first and last name at any place that I've worked. Most people who share my name aren't racist douchebags, but this story isn't about those people.

This story is about a different sort of guy. A guy with some seriously messed up friends. I should mention that we're all used to getting misdirected emails. It's inevitable when you have a common name. You basically just figure out who was meant to go to, forward a copy to him, and then CC the person who got the address wrong. Easy peasy. It hardly ever happens twice.

Once in a blue moon, you get something inappropriate. Fine, I get it. People can sometimes be rude and private. When this happens, I add a little note to the CC, letting the sender know that it's not okay to be a racist douchebag, and that if he does it again, I will go right to his employer.

The results are always pretty predictable. I get back a humbly worded apology and a promise to never let it happen again. So it's effective, and maybe even a teaching moment. Nah, who am I kidding? They probably just triple check the email address the next time they decide to be racist. But, you take what you can get, I guess. One time though, my very politely worded warning was not well received.

I got back an extremely vitriolic response from the sender accusing me of being every derogatory name in the clan handbook. I was invited to perform impossible sexual feats upon myself, unalive myself several times in a row, and all manner of other colorful stuff. He cheerfully told me about his actually quite impressive home arsenal, most of which he would gladly allow me to shove up my butt and pull the trigger. So yeah, the dude was apparently upset about being told what he could and couldn't write in a business email. I think I even could have let that slide, although I probably wouldn't have felt very good about myself afterward. But then my co-worker, who shares my name, decided to add his two cents. They were a much milder two cents, but they weren't exactly cordial.

Essentially, he told me to mine my own business and stop reading his emails and that it wasn't my job to be the email PC police. To tell the truth, I was a little stunned. He had never made a peep when I did the same thing to his other racist friends. And also, we had just been through the company-wide mandatory diversity training class where there was an entire module on how NOT to be a racist douchebag on the company email system. Maybe he thought the cartoon that his racist douchebag buddy Sint was so well drawn that it should get a pass, but I don't know.

I was a little pissed though. Even if this racist douchebag wasn't intelligent enough to know that vile stuff like this is offensive all on its own, he should at the very least realize that this puts his employer at risk. Be a douchebag on your own if you want to, but at least consider its effect on your paycheck. And so, that's how I ended up taking a short walk up to the HR office with a printout of the original email, the Cinder's Double Down Response, and my same named co-workers annoying defense of his racist douchebag friends.

Calls were made. By close of business that day, I was, for the first time, the only person at that company who had my first and last name. That would have been the end of it, but it turns out that since we're a huge government contracting company, we actually had a business relationship with the Cinder's employer. The Cinder wasn't involved in that business relationship, but our ethics committee decided that it was enough that emails had been exchanged for it to be necessary to inform his employer. There was a company to company communication, and I had to participate in a conference call

where I explained that there were two people with my name, and the racist douchebag that they had employed thought that I was a different guy. But the two long didn't read version is that the cinder got fired too. Also the police force where he lived was informed of the threatening language that he used, i.e. The mention of his guns. I don't know if the cops ever followed up on that, but I'd like to think that somewhere in a filing cabinet with a Manila folder marked racist douchebag was a printout of that

email. One can hope, anyway. Yeah, I mean, in addition to OP being right that racism is bad, he kind of brings up like a really good just like life advice, which is, you know, maybe it's not a good idea to send people death threats through your company email. What an idiot! Our next reddit post is from Thomas of Hookedin. This revenge story happened in the 90s when I was working after school as a line cook and chef's assistant at a Chinese restaurant.

The place specialized in noodle soups and the main attraction was our soup stock. The owner used a much revered passed down family recipe. It consisted of freshly cracked pork bones, fresh spices and fresh vegetables all kept at a rolling boil for over 12 hours. It had to be started the night before and the owner was very particular about the soup stock. If it ran out, then it ran out. He refused to cheat, as some places do, by adding water or soup stock. If it ran out, then it ran out. He refused to cheat, as some places do,

by adding water or powdered stock. The owner himself was really awesome, an old Chinese gentleman. He had some incredible stories. For example, he enlisted in the Quo Ming Tang Army in the 40s and worked as a chef for KMT officers during World War II. He told us about how one time his division's headquarter was overrun and he had to escape on a push bike ahead of the advancing Japanese Army. Eventually, when the Chinese Communist Party took over in the 50s, he was assigned to a steel factory to work there for the rest of his life. He GTFO'd and eventually made his way to the US as an asylum seeker. I digress, but my point is that he was an awesome guy and a genuinely kind and considerate boss.

He always made sure that his employees were fed before the evening shift, and he let me study during quiet nights. His son, on the other hand, was a real piece of garbage. This guy dropped out of college after two years, even though his parents had saved up for him to study medicine. He floated in and out of jobs, but mostly stayed unemployed, living with his parents and using their money well into his mid-30s. He eventually

started working at the restaurant, as the front of house manager in name only, but in reality, he did nothing but watch TV and take naps. Even though I was only a line cook, the old man and I got along really well. He trusted me, and he would routinely get me to make the soup stock the night before under a supervision. Sadly, the old man died after my fifth year working there. That's when the sun took over. The sun had zero cooking experience, but decided to take over as the chef. He didn't like the idea of putting the soup on overnight because it was a waste of gas, and instead got me to do the prep the night before and then would just switch the pot

on himself in the morning. He would also routinely add plain water to the soup when it got low so that he could continue selling noodle soups. The most incredible thing, however, was, disgustingly, he got the waitstaff to throw customers unfinished soups back into the stockpot for reuse. When I confronted him about it, he told me that it wasn't a problem because the heat killed any germs and threatened to fire me if I said anything. Not surprisingly, customers started leaving as the food quality degraded.

This caused the sun to panic and cut even more costs. He fired most of the old staff and thus overworked the remaining staff. He couldn't fire me because I was the only one left who knew how to do the soup. He also stopped using quality ingredients and started to buy cheap, pre-packaged stuff in order to reduce my prep work hours. After a few months of this, I got sick of this BS. Since I was about to start college, I told him that I was giving him my notice. He, of course, took this poorly and told me that I was a loser. He told me not to bother coming in tomorrow, but I was to spend the remainder of my shift

showing a recent hire how to do my job, stating that he wouldn't issue my last check if I didn't complete a thorough handover. I laughed in his face and walked out on the spot, and I didn't bother chasing up my last check. As a parting gift, I sent an email to our local food safety board, informing them of the poor sanitary practice of reusing leftover soups. I helpfully also enclosed a few photos that I had sneakily taken of this practice. The board sent inspectors the very next day and closed down the restaurant. They even found other issues such as unhygienic bathrooms and uncleaned eating utensils.

He was issued a massive fine and a list of undertakings to carry out before he could reopen the restaurant. The restaurant remained closed and eventually it was sold off. I didn't bother chasing up what happened to the sun, but I hope that he learned his lesson and has done something productive with his life. Man, as stark as it is, I'm kind of glad that the old man died early because if he had stayed on longer, then he would have had to watch as his son ruined the business that he traveled all the way to the other side of the world

to build. Man, imagine surviving World War II, fighting literal Nazis, traveling to the other side of the planet, building a successful business, and then watching your stupid son ruin it. What a kick in the balls, man! Our next reddit postage from NSS. A few years ago, a friend and I decided to find a Minecraft server to play on together. After searching for a while and joining and leaving a handful of inadequate servers, we eventually landed on a nice one with a fairly large and active community. The server had a reset a couple of weeks before we joined, so most of the server was undeveloped. As usual, we joined the game and chose a direction from spawn to walk in order to find a suitable place to settle and set up our base. After about 20 minutes we found a good location near enough to the rail system, but far enough

away from most other players, except for Noob 1 and Noob 2. Noob 1 and Noob 2 were definitely younger than me. I was probably older than the general demographic at 25 years old, while they were probably closer to 15. Noobs 1 and 2 weren't the best builders. They were the type of players who spent most of their time begging the admin for mod privileges. However, they both had the best armor in the game, full diamond, along with diamond swords, and plenty of inter pearls. They were loaded!

They must have spent a ton of time mining before I arrived because they spent all their time harassing me any time I would join the server to play. They were usually logged in because it was summer and they had nothing better to do. I would be out planning my base build and they would run up in full armor with a diamond sword and kill me instantly. I was always unarmed and I had an inventory filled up with diamond blocks that I meticulously collected. Fortunately, the server allowed players to protect a small portion of the land based

on how long they had played the game. I was able to protect a small cube of space from new one and new two so I could store my items. For those of you who have never played Minecraft, you drop all of your inventory when you die. Over the next week, my friend and I spent time slowly building up the base one small section at a time. If the noob saw me, they would run over and kill me, so a lot of building was done from inside, removing dirt and replacing it with stone.

Now, I'm a perfectionist when it comes to Minecraft builds. So I was making sure to use the perfect materials and build the fortress exactly how I wanted. New one and new two slowed me down heavily, but eventually I had a towering fortress overlooking their tiny dirt hut. My whole fortress was protected. They couldn't break any block or open any chest. However, they could still kill me if they got inside, which happened on a few occasions. They would kill me, take all my stuff, and then make fun of me after running home. I'd had enough.

I put the finishing touches on my fortress and closed off the top. I found out that they were getting inside by throwing Inder Pearls through my windows. Inder Pearls allow you to teleport wherever they land. Now that they could no longer get inside, they would stand at the front gate and beg to be let in. I let them in once voluntarily and I was swiftly murdered. I decided that it was time to go from build mode to revenge mode. Under the front gate, I spent hours building a dropout

flooring directly in front. I wired it to a lever inside that, when pulled, would drop out the floor. This would make whoever was unlucky enough to be standing on it fall about 30 blocks. Not enough to kill someone, but enough to significantly weaken them. At this point, I wired up arrows and a lava dispenser to attack the victim upon impact. I made sure that all my work was inconspicuous and hidden, and I waited for Noob 1 and Noob 2 to come to my front door and harass me. Finally, that time came, and I didn't have to wait too long. Noob 1 stood on the trap door, unaware of the fate that awaited him. Noob 2 was circling the fortress looking for another entrance.

All the while, insults were hurled back and forth. I egged them on, daring them to try to come in, now that I knew that I was ready. I felt like Kevin McAllister in home alone. Finally, Nube 1 and Nube 2 grouped up at the front door. I approached and looked at them through a small hole inside the door. They gathered at the hole and looked at me. We exchanged glances. I pulled the lever.

Both Noob 1 and Noob 2 fell into the pits. I pulled the second lever, triggering the arrows and lava. Noob 1 dies. Noob 2 logs out. Due to my preparedness, I thought I had put an item collector under the killing floor to pick up any dropped items to prevent the lava from burning it up. I ran down to collect my new diamond armor set, a stack of meat, and inter-purls. Newb1 Rage is about his lost gear.

He fell into my trap a few more times, losing his most basic gear in the process. He begged for me to return it. After about 30 minutes, he told me to deactivate the trap so Noob 2 could log in, then safely warp to his base using a command the server had installed. I agreed, however, I never deactivated the trap. Cued diabolical music as I collected my winnings. Too long didn't read. Noobie kids mess with me on a Minecraft server while I tried to play, so I killed them

and took all their stuff. Our next reddit postage from Sharkbait. Some trashy tenants have been living at my parents' property for a while. After a cash windfall, the tenants decided that it was time to move out. Fine, whatever. The tenants start complaining about mold and they start being laid on rent and they take us to courts. But they never showed up to courts. This elongates the process, so they end up basically living for free in our house while taking us to court for poor living conditions. I know, right? A few months go by and at this point they have to show up in courts.

One of them shows up at court crying that their baby is dying because of the mold. Blah, blah, blah. The judge lays in on her saying that you've been living there rent-free for over six months. So if your baby is sick, why don't you leave? Also, we had a mold guy come into inspect the house and he basically said that it's not mold that's giving their kids breathing problems.

It's their cigarette smoke. Their case gets thrown out and they have to pay back rent. Literally that night they get a ewhald and leave town. I followed their every move on Instagram knowing they would eventually slip up. A few weeks go by and they start posting pictures of their new house. Eventually they put a location on one of their pictures. Bad move, honey. Bless your hearts. I got on Google Earth, found the street, found the actual house by matching the red door to one of their pictures, and sent it to a lawyer. The mother

effort got served, and the guy had to sell his vintage car to pay us back. That was our Slash Pro Revenge, and if you like this content, be sure to follow my podcast because I put out car to pay us back. That was our Slash Pro Revenge, and if you like this content, be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.