rSlash - r/Prorevenge How We Ruined Our Douchebag Neighbor's Life!

Episode Date: May 12, 2020

r/Prorevenge In today's story, OP's family has to deal with an incredibly annoying and entitled family who tries to prevent them from building a barn. OP's father is clever, so he carefully creates plans that are exactly compliant with local regulations so that his neighbor can't stop him. Then, he puts up a gigantic sign that blocks his neighbor's view as the final touch of revenge! If you like this podcast and want to see more, hit the follow button! Watch on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2pQO1GC9Lk Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Welcome to R-slash Pro Revenge where OPs family gets clever revenge against their douchebag neighbors. This is a long tale. It's also a textbook case of why you don't abuse loyal associates. My spouse was the second person hired at a consulting company in a very specialized industry. At her 15 years with a firm, it grew to a respectable three office entity, with 8 to 10 employees at each location. She and the owner grew the business on the contracts, expertise, and presentation of my wife. To the extent that my wife's abilities and education were the main reason new business came through the door.

Over the years, her scope of responsibility grew so that the owner was basically 75% absent and mostly unaware of the day-to-day activities. As he got more and more removed from the business, he would make overtures that he would eventually retire and sell her the business. He was so dependent on her generating income that he took out a life insurance policy on her. I didn't involve myself too much, but at a major industry dinner party I attended with her, he introduced my wife to the table as my girl Friday, basically a secretary, which was weird. Over the years, she tried to get an agreement in place to buy the firm, even if it

was years away. He always delayed and made promises but never followed through. I told her, this guy doesn't respect you or your contribution. He'll never sell you the business because there's no reason to. He can make more money by stringing you along and essentially you are the business. Why would he sell it to you? One day out of the blue, my wife received a raise in bonus, a very minor amount of money, and a contract that included a non-compete, non-disclosure agreement. After reading it, she realized that the owner was trying to lock her down from leaving for

another firm. She'd been getting feelers from other companies. To make things even more suspicious, she received a call from a competitor who said they were in final stages of due diligence and they wanted to meet her. This butthole was selling the company and didn't think to tell her or ask her if she was interested in buying it. She ignored the agreement and there were no other agreements in place. She was totally free.

My wife is extremely loyal. She's missed so many special days working for this guy. Stuck around when they were wobbly, even skipped paychecks when there were tough financial times. She was furious. The absolute madness I've ever seen her. We discussed starting her own firm, and I asked, how much business is contractually obligated to stay there if you leave? It turned out that most agreements were either hand shakes or a 30 day at well. I also asked how many would leave with you? She said about 75% including her biggest source of revenue who didn't even know the owner. In a very short time, my wife took a

three week vacation. She had months of unused time. During which time she ran in an office in the same building and made all the arrangement to set up a new shop. She agreed to leave any and all company property behind and do her best to give the old company no obvious ammo for litigation. She called her clients and said, I'm leaving, if you want to look into relocating your account with my new company, you'll need to quit the old one before we can discuss it. Most understood the implication. While she was on vacation, she received a panic call from her boss. We lost XYZ company. Do you know anything about it? She said, I'm sorry,

but I just sent you an email. I've resigned. All my keys and company stuff is on the desk. Bye bye. The new firm took basically 90% of the business and seamlessly transitioned into the same company as it was before, but with a new owner. Even most of the office staff would come aboard. Within a year, her old company closed down except for the small office her boss ran. She sees him once in a while and he just scowls at her. This story reminds me of that old phrase. If you shoot at the queen, don't miss.

Our next reddit post is from Counter Street. This was about 25 years ago, so I was about 8 and we had just moved into a 150 year old house that was in need of major repairs. My dad, thinking ahead, knew he would need a large garage and workshop to really get started on the renovations properly. On the edge of our yard was an ancient barn that was falling apart and needed to be torn down. My dad figured this was the best place to build his new workshop, so that was the plan.

We'd met and were on good terms with the neighbor at that point. When the plans for the new workshop were finished, my parents went around to all the neighbors as a courtesy to show them the plans and get their blessings. The neighbors whose property the current barn and new workshop would border, I'll call them the Peters, were concerned about the height. The existing barn was 16 feet high and they asked if we could only build it one story, 12 feet high max, as to not block the sun in the yard. Sure, no problem my parents agreed. They wanted to go two stories for extra storage, but just one wasn't a

deal breaker. So the old barn was torn down in the foundation laid for the new one. During that time, there was a falling out with the Peters in my parents. I'm not sure what happened, but it turned nasty. One day, my brother and I were playing street hockey and Mr. Peters came out yelling at us. Get off the road, you half breed turds. My dad is black, so we're both half black. You have to earn your place in this town." Upon hearing this, my mom had to physically restrain my dad from going over and beating the living stuffing out of him. Eventually he cooled off and started on his plan. The plans for a one story went out the window.

Soon, the new garage that was only supposed to be one story gained a second in the blueprints. If they were going to direct racist comments at his kids, my dad would build what he wanted. Soon, the New Garage was only supposed to be one story gained a second in the blueprints. If they were going to direct racist comments at his kids, my dad would build what he wanted. As construction started, the Peters came over to ask why there was two stories being built and were told to go f themselves. We didn't hear from them again until the roof started to go on. The bylaws of the township limited all outside structures to be no more than 24 feet high. The Peters called the township and then a building inspector claiming that the new garage

was over 24 feet high. If it was over height, the entire thing would have to be torn down and rebuilt, costing us tens of thousands of dollars. I remember the Peter standing there, watching the inspector with smug looks on their faces. Two days later we got the final report back from the township and inspector. 23 feet 11 inches. Just as my dad had drawn up in his new plans. He sent me up to the roof of the garage, just plywood no shingles yet, with some spray

paint and had me write. 23 feet 11 inches. Height approved. In two foot high neon orange letters across the entire roof, facing their yard and house. Not only did the garage block all sunlight from reaching their yard, but my dad waited until everything else was done before he shingled that side of the roof. They had to stare at those neon orange letters for almost three years. We didn't hear a pee from them for the next 10 years until they moved. Opie, your dad is an absolute legend.

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Oh my, mom, me, I gotta move out of pink! Our next Reddit post is from Mumblybumb. This was a few years ago. I got a job in a cinema. I was four or five years older than most of my coworkers, and it was most of their first jobs. Having had a couple of jobs previous, and a few years of maturity under my belt, I quickly became a very valued employee.

So much so, I was given a promotion as supervisor within six months. The general manager loved me. I was a a promotion as supervisor within six months. The general manager loved me. I was a Swiss Army knife. I would take care of projection duties when a projection manager was at our other sites. I dealt with a busy period very calmly and was able to diffuse potential situations from getting worse. I was very good at my job. I would be in charge of the building when whatever manager was there had to step out.

We had one general manager and four floor managers. They all liked me because I made their jobs a lot easier. When I was working, they didn't have to work as hard and when it wasn't busy, they didn't have to work at all. Two more years go by and one of the floor managers says she's leaving in three months. Without having to say it, I know I'm going to get her position. They always hire internally and I'm hidden shoulders above my coworkers. This is where it gets interesting.

Let's call this manager, blobby. So blobby does a stock take every Thursday. I always work Thursday mornings and projections, so for the last couple of years, had a standing arrangement to drink with my pals on Thursday night. I effing loved my Thursday drinks. I worked most weekends, so this was my Saturday night. One Thursday I'm doing my projection checks and the GM says that blobby is sick. Would I be able to do the stock take?

If it, I'll do it. A 9 a.m. to 11.30 p.m. shift. We have to count the stock at retail after we close, hence the late finish. It's a horrible shift, but the brownie points are worth it. So next week comes along, and instead of doing my projection shift on Thursday, I'm into a stock shift. I asked the GM what's going on, and he said, blobby requested me in. Even though me and the general manager get on really well, he's gonna side with his

manager over his supervisor. I explain I go out Thursday nights, and blob says, listen dude, I'm actually doing you a favor. When the manager job comes up and you know how to do the stock take in orders, it'll look fantastic and you'll 100% get the job. I grit my teeth and go along with it. It makes sense to learn another avenue of the job. So, Thursday nights come around and Blobby sits at his desk with his feet up while I basically do his job.

It's not a difficult task and after a month it's a piece of piss. Let me paint a picture of blobby. He's short, fat and balding. Ear pierced, things he's cool but he really isn't. Think David Brent from the office. Keep him on your side and work is a lot easier because he can be quite petty but what he did next was far from petty. Three months go by and we've one week left before our manager leaves.

They start the interview process, but for some reason the owners decide to sit in and do the interviews. Really strange. So the interview starts and I'm hit with, how do you expect to be our manager if your time keeping is so poor? They have a list of times I clocked in late. Five minutes here, seven minutes there. The thing is, time keeping wasn't an issue. You came in late the odd time and then if they needed you to stay back,

most would. Take a penny, leave a penny scenario. But these guys go to town on me. They have surveillance footage of me taking in a delivery, which isn't part of my job. Without wearing a high visibility jacket, your complete lack of concern for safety regulations is appalling. Emails from a few irate customers over the years that complained about me? I did the right thing in all those circumstances, but taking out of context, it looks like I was in the wrong. I've given up fighting my corner. I know I'm not getting this promotion.

My coworker got it. If it wasn't me, I was happy it was her. She was also very good at her job and would no doubt make a fine manager. So, after giving so much for the company over three years, I found myself doing things half-heartedly. Why go the extra mile when it wasn't appreciated? So, I'm still on stock duty on a Thursday night. While Blobby is down dealing with the customer, I'm in the office in putting the stock figures. I accidentally closed the program. I open

Blobby's folder where the program is and see a file saying discrepancies. I don't know why I clicked it, but I did. I see my name, OP's folder. Of course I'm going to click in and see what's going down in Funky Town. I'm absolutely shocked. There are about five subfolders in my folder. Lates, dangerous delivery, potential stealing, associates, and hungover. We've already talked about Lates in dangerous delivery. The stealing one is me leaning over a closed hill, but it looks like I'm trying to hide something, which I wasn't. Other nonsense. The associate's folder has pictures of me standing with my co-workers chatting when it wasn't busy, and the hungover folder was screenshots from my Facebook when I was out the night before and then in work the next day. It was clear as day that

this grunt handed this information to the owners. Finishing up that night was so effing tough. I wanted to rip that earring out and pop his bald head like a pimple, but I played it cool and finished my shift. Monday comes around and I asked to talk to the general manager. I explained what I found and it's really serious because it's an invasion of privacy. CCTV should only be used to review footage when something goes wrong. explain what I've found and it's really serious because it's an invasion of privacy. CCTV should only be used to review footage when something goes wrong, not used to stalk

me. The GM says he only found out after the interviews were over. The reason he didn't do them was because he was also leaving. He was a good man and didn't BS around. He said, blobby hated me. Don't know why, but he was always bringing up issues with me. He didn't recommend me getting a new job because more than likely,

Blobby was gonna be the new GM and my life there would be unbearable if he got it. So I talked to my brother and sister who are a lot smarter than me about what roads to go down. File a complaint? What's the point when the owners used his dossier against me? Bring him to court?

Too much hassle for very little payoff. If you're still reading, I applaud you, high five. This is where it gets fun. Blobby wants the GM position more than anything. He has a bit of competition, but he's the front runner. I could spend the next two months looking for work, or I could be ambitious and try to bury this piece of garbage. I chose the latter, so I'm drinking with my girlfriend one night and we're joking about how to get revenge. She scared me a little with her suggestions, some tame ones like

Kia's car and then straight up to burn his house down. If any authorities are watching, we're only joking. And just like that fat Fatboy signed his own death certificate. While I'm on the stock shift, he makes a passing remark. We have to start nailing this stock take down to the last popcorn kernel. The yearly stock take is in 6 weeks and the owner is doing it and she's a ballbreaker. I know all about her. She ripped me to pieces in the interview. Don't worry, blobby, OP is on the case, those numbers will be perfect.

And he goes for the Oscar with this line. You're a good worker, effing travesty you didn't get the manager's job, but when I get the hot seat you'll be made a manager as soon as a position comes up. No interview required. What a prick. I'm so good at the stock take that he doesn't even check my work. I'm making the orders and counting the stock. So over the next six weeks, I start to screw things up.

I put the orders in on a Wednesday for our Friday delivery. I normally eyeball it and see what movies are coming out, and we always had a nice bit of stock on hand. Not too much, not too little. That's about to change. I start adding 25% to every order we get in. I shall blob the dockets. He signs them happy days.

Then when I'm doing the stock on Thursday, I put in that we ordered our usual amount. The system balances on the computer, but what we have in the stock rooms is a lot more. I do this for the next 4 weeks. I'm royally screwed if he ever looked in the stock rooms. They're nearly exploding with product. Lucky for me and unlucky for him, he's a lazy grunt. It's the last week before the ballbreaker does the end of the year stock take. I balance everything on the computer as usual.

Before we call it a night, I tell him to check the pre-sales tomorrow. We're gonna have a busy week, so I say to him. Email our suppliers and get a bit extra. It'll all get used anyway, and we're looking perfect on the stock count. Granted, I've been adding on 25% for the past month or so, but he goes ultra blobby and bangs out an emergency email to our suppliers, asking could they double the standing order for tomorrow. Check, F-ing, mate. When I get home that night, I type up my resignation letter. I ask the general manager who has a couple weeks left if I can

leave immediately due to unforeseen circumstances. He agrees because he's a good man and gives me his personal number and an amazing written reference. Which is me the best and thanks me for all my hard work. Like Andy Dufraine, I've crawled through a sea of poo and came out clean on the other side. I can find in one of the regular workers what I've done over a couple of pines. He said that the next day when the delivery came, they couldn't fit it all in the four different stock rooms. The rule of thumb would be about three weeks stock on hand. We must have had about eights. Now, I know you're going to say I'm really hurting the owners. I'm not. All the stock will be used. Except for maybe a few bags of popcorn that will expire, everything else will get sold for an exorbitant profit.

Word on the grapevine was that the yearly stock take went into the Wii hours of the morning. 3am to be precise. Blobby was boxed in. The stock was a cluster fuck. Tens of thousands of euros off. He could take the blame himself and look incompetent, or say I did it to which he looks worse considering he was behind the dossier to slander me. I don't know what he did. All I know is he didn't get the GM position and within six months was working selling furniture. I never spoke to him

about it, but one would hope he knows it was me who screwed him. If you blobby, you rotund walking beanbag. He blocked your promotion so you blocked his promotion. Balanced as all things should be. That was our slash pro revenge and if you liked this video then hit that subscribe button because I put on new reddit videos every single day.