rSlash - r/Prorevenge Humble Farmer VS Corrupt Politicians

Episode Date: April 1, 2023

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This holiday season, let's swish Shalai to the cooking so you can enjoy spending time with those you love. Their iconic festive special includes the famous Quarter Chicken Dinner. Now with cranberry sauce, stuffing, lindor chocolates, plus a scratch and wind card, where everyone's a winner. Grab your loved ones and hurry to swish Shalai today. Visit swishshalai.ca for contest details, while supplies last. Welcome to our slash pro revenge, where a farmer grabs city hall by its city balls. Our next reddit post is from the RULY. This happened quite a few years ago.

My hometown has a thing called the ALR, the agriculture land reserve. Basically, there are areas of land that can only ever be used for agriculture to protect prime agriculture land from becoming highways and strip malls and things like that. A friend of mine, Fred, had inherited a piece of such land on the outskirts of the city. He had no interest in doing any kind of farming, but the ALR rules allow for the property owner to have a personal residence on the land. So he built a house on it and had a nice place to live just outside of town. Now, City Hall has ways of acquiring ALR land and using it for non-agricultural purposes. I'm not familiar with how exactly, but they can, and it's basically impossible

for anyone else to. One thing the city would do is acquire ALR land and turn it into condo developments. They had a vision for three high-end condos to be built where Fred's property was. They had already bought the properties on either side of Fred's land and were going after his land too. The city was only offering Fred the property value and since he just built a house there he would be losing on the deal so Fred said no. While the condos on either side of Fred's land were being constructed, the city used every tool they could to try to expropriate Fred's land. But the ALR restrictions made it tricky. Finally, they told Fred that

since his land was ALR, he needed to be using it for agriculture within 30 days, or they could take it from him. Fred's response? Pig farm. He cramped as many pigs onto his property as he legally could. Full compliance with farming regulations, health, and safety, the whole nine yards. Since he had fulfilled his obligations with the ALR, the city couldn't touch him.

Period. The city had already pre-sold a number of these condos, and naturally, none of the buyers were very happy to have spent a small fortune to live next to a big stinky pig farm. Most of the buyers obtained grounds for dismissal of their purchase agreements, while the rest filed a big lawsuit. The city's project was sinking fast. The city started negotiating with Fred,

and the story ends with the city finally making Fred an offer for his land that was so ridiculous that he had no choice but to accept. The city finished their condo project, but thanks to Fred, they didn't make nearly as much off it as they had anticipated. So to everyone out there who's lucky enough to have never crossed paths with a pig farm, let me tell you, pig farm stink is a special kind of stink. Our

next reddit post is from Ananamaton. I don't know why, but for some reason the teachers and administration who ran my strict Catholic elementary school decided that I was lying about my reading and writing abilities. Yeah, look, I don't get it. I really don't. Every year, I'd start the semester having to prove that I was actually doing my own English homework. They could never prove that I was cheating, so they eventually settled on measuring me against the smartest girl in the class, Kathy. I hated Kathy. Here's an example of this comparison business. We've been assigned a book to read. We read the first chapter aloud in class. I like the book, so I take it home and finish it.

Whoopty do. Next day, we're supposed to read the second chapter in our designated reading time. Given that I could usually read a book or two a day, a chapter doesn't take long, so I read it. And then I was done, so I started reading my own book. My teacher, Mrs. Smith said, O.P. were reading the other book right now. Read your own book later. I read it. Uh-huh, then read it again. So I did. She stood there and watched me and then said, I said to read the chapter O.P. I did. I said read it, not skim it. I did read it. Cathy, what page are you on?

Um, 15, ma'am. Okay OP, Cathy is the best reader in the class. If she's not past page 15, then neither are you. And that was that. I was too shy and embarrassed to really protest, so I didn't. I'd just stare and stare at the same page until Kathy turned her page, then I turned mine. This was agonizingly boring, and it happened almost every day. After like five or six years of this issue, I was pretty pissed about it. Year after year, semester after semester. Day after day, being told that I couldn't read as well as Kathy, when reading was the only effing thing that I was absolutely sure

I was good at, it ate it me! Rage and humiliation and frustration and just a lot of self-hate for not being able to speak up to force the issue to the point where I could prove that I was a good reader. It's stung! And in the fifth grade, I finally saw it. My opportunity for vengeance. You see, my school did this thing called accelerated reading, which was fancy talk for, get kids to read a book and take a quiz on it for points. They enforced it by making it a part of our English grade. Each student had a minimum set of points they need to make by the end of the year. They made it competitive by offering a pizza party to the class of the school's top reader.

The top reader. Every effing year was Kathy. And whoever had Kathy in their class, oh so loved having Kathy in their class. The end of the year pizza party was a shoe-in to whoever had Kathy after all. She was so smart, so good at reading. She only needed to make a base score to pass, you know. But Kathy loved to achieve so much that she would usually make double that score, so it was impossible to beat her.

She just really loved reading, you know? You might be wondering, uh, OP, if you're so good at reading, why didn't you overachieve and kick her butt? Three reasons. One, apathy. I gave up trying in school a long time ago, largely because of my teachers. Two, I was one of the students

that had to be supervised to make sure that I didn't cheat. Thanks to this, I was too embarrassed to ask to take the test until the last semester. 3. Everyone from 1st to 4th grade were only allowed to read books at their reading level. Solid idea in theory, preventing kids from cheating the system and guessing their way through high level point value tests instead of reading. But do you want to know how many points in f'ing Hank the Cowdog book was worth? Two, three if you're lucky. And that was the high end of point value for those reading levels.

Most were only worth like half a point. If I wanted to pass, I had to read like 10 to 15 kids books. And God, I was so far beyond that point. So yeah, since I just generally didn't really care, I'd usually wait until the last minute and then take all the tests at once and just barely scrape by a pass. This probably didn't help with my teacher's poor impression on my reading level, come to think of it.

But fifth graders, oh, fifth graders had free reign to take any test they wanted, any test, any test at all. I remember looking at my English syllabus on the first day of school and seeing that holy, blessed freedom. I looked up at the back of Kathy's head and the class across the hall. I could win, but then I realized I could do better than win. I could destroy her. Destroy her and prove once and for all who the alpha reader in the school really was. I could destroy her and show stupid Mrs. Smith and Mrs. James that they were all f'ing wrong.

I could read. I was the best reader. I could do it. You're flying to meet with a new supplier to keep your business growing. And with the business platinum card from American Express, you can earn $820 in new value and more, which includes a $200 travel credit toward your flight. Now a boarding business class. American Express, don't do business without it. Terms and conditions apply as at mx.ca slash business platinum.

So you think you know sports? Points vet is the sports book for you because we've got the features for true competitors. Like live same game par leagues. Use your sports martes to make picks live on the players and teams you're watching. And qualified bets can use our early cashout feature. So you could take your winnings to play live blackjack on the same points bet at the platform that gives you everything you need you know what to do bet on it points bet sportsbook and casino but I needed patience I couldn't let anyone else know what I was up to I couldn't tip my hand to early and drive the competition up. You see, at this time, Kathy's highest score was 45 points. She fully intended to make at least

80 points, and now the other kids were properly competing now that any book was game. Also, the final pizza party was on the line after all. I didn't want anyone else realizing that a new contender was in the ring. I wanted my victory to be a landslide. I knew that it could be a landslide, with the arsenal of books that I'd read over the years. So, I waited. I didn't take any of my placement tests, despite my teacher's urging and punishing me for failing to meet my quarterly minimums. I suffered embarrassment, timeouts from recess, loss of field trips for low grades, my parents' confusion, but nothing could move me from the plan. My score stayed

at zero. Kathy exceeded her own expectations, finishing the year with 92 points. I remember the last Friday, the last day to take tests, and my my classmates struggling to get even half as many points as her. The next kid in line had 60 points. Me? I was still at zero. Just as planned. After school, instead of going to the homework room and after school care, I went to the

library with Mrs. Riley to take my AR test since I still had to be supervised. This was fine. I needed a witness. I started taking tests. I took all the tests. Every book I'd ever read that was available to be tested, I tested. All of the babysitters club, all of Sweet Valley High, all of Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, the great illisterated classics, the unabridged versions of those same books, every Jack London

novel, all of those dive-in-every-survival books, the three Harry Potter books that were out, all the Calvin and Hobbes and Garfields comics, I even took tests on freaking goose bumps, animorphs, the magic tree house, and all those F-ing-hank-the-cow-dog books. And those are just the series. I read loads of standalone books, and I took tests on those too. I can't even freaking remember them all. Every freaking book I'd ever read, I test it. It took hours. About one hour in, Mrs. Riley tried to stop me, but I shocked both of us when I very firmly

told her, no, I'm not stopping until I'm done. I never spoke into an adult like that in my life. It doesn't sound like much, but I was the quietest, shyest, most pathetic thing when it came to adults, especially teachers. I barely looked up at them. Later, my father came to pick me up. I told him I had to take all the tests. Mrs. Riley told my dad that I'd passed, so I was fine, grades wise. My dad tried to make me leave.

I was not having it. For the second time in my life, I managed to speak up for myself. I ended up standing on the chair, screaming at my dad. I'm not leaving until I win. I told him I had to make the highest score. I had to win. I couldn't leave until I'd won.

I think I was crying almost hyperventilating. He had never seen me act like this and didn't know what to do except to let me take the tests. Mrs. Riley and my dad let me take the test and tell about midnight. At that point, the program locked itself. No more tests could be taken and the year's competition was over. I could see my score and I was laughing and crying and just an effing mess. Mrs. Riley actually hugged me and writing this out now, I understand that she was seriously cool to actually stay so late and let this sobbing mess of a child do this. My incredibly concerned, but kind of proud that took me home. I couldn't wait for Monday. You see, they announced the winners at the AR competition over the

Intercoms to the whole school. I timed my victory perfectly. By keeping a zero, my name was never added to the school scoreboard. By waiting until the last data test, the board wasn't updated with my score. Kathy was still the victor as far as anyone knew. No one knew the truth. No one, but Mrs. Riley. Mrs. Riley, who was in charge of the contest as a librarian, and knew that I'd won legitimately. I spent the entire morning hour with the biggest effing grin on my face. I grinned through prayer, through the pledge, through the unrelated announcements, and I was so excited I laughed when the principal started reading the AR winners. My classmates clearly thought that I was nuts. My teacher, effing Mrs. Smith, who was by far and above the worst teacher I've ever had,

kept shushing me. I could not be shushed. Kathy was in the class across the hall. I could see her back and the confident faces of her classmates as they waited for the announcement of their inevitable victory. And then it happened. The second place winner is Kathy in class B with 92 points. My classmates gasped the class across the hall gasped. Kathy actually jerked with shock. And the winner is OP in class C with a grand total of

458 points. I kind of want to end it there but you guys need to know what happened next. Nothing. Effing nothing. My classmates, my teacher, the class across the hall, many of whom had come to their door and were staring at my grin were silent. You could hear a pin drop, every rustle of uniform. Sweet, glorious shock. Six effing years, half my life at that age, and they all thought that I was stupid, that I was slow. Mrs. Smith, Mrs. James, Mrs. Riley, all wrong. I won, and none of them saw it coming. It was amazing. Mrs. Smith thought that I cheated, of course. But I had Mrs. Riley, and also my parents as backup.

Because of the confidence I gained from completing this plan and earning the all and respect of my classmates, finally gave me the strength to tell my parents what was happening to me. How I was being harassed and how my teachers treated me. My parents transferred me out immediately, giving me the greatest exit any bully child could dream of. A big bang! Proving once and for all that those bastards were effing wrong about me. Beating Kathy, who, thinking on it now, didn't do anything but exist to be everything I supposedly wasn't,

and I kind of feel bad for ruining her moments. And blowing the whistle on my bullies. I left behind a legacy in my passing. Last I heard, it took the rest of the Harry Potter books, and some serious dedication from another fifth grader to beat my record over a decade later. Opie, that's a super sweet story. I'm glad you had your moment in the sun. It's just so funny to me because you're such a nerd, Opie, and I say that from a place of love because I myself am quite nerdy as well.

But it's just such a nerd mentality to be like, I'll show them. I'll read a lot of books. That'll teach them who's boss. You sure did teach those teachers a thing or two by studying really hard and learning a lot? No, the thing that every teacher hates. Students who learn and read books. No!

Our next read it post is from Green Monkey. I had a really sucky roommate one time. Absolutely no respect for boundaries. He eats all my food, leaves the house trash, etc. One of his favorite activities was to pick my lock when I wasn't home to smoke my pot every single day. So one day I was cleaning before work and found some concentrated Salvia extract from my brief foray into ethnobotanacles. Salvia is a powerful and quick-acting, legal plan which induces full-blown visual and auditory hallucinations for about 15 minutes when smoked.

It's not exactly unpleasant, but I wouldn't call it fun either. Naturally, I pack my bong full of the stuff and leave it in my locked room. I come home from work and the bong has been smoked. My roommate spends the rest of the night dropping hints to me trying to figure out what the heck he just smoked without coming out and admitting that he broke into my room and stole from me. I never said anything and he never touched my stuff again. Down in the comments Mr. Marf replies, God, 15 minutes, I smoked at once and it lasted maybe 2 minutes.

But I spent the whole 2 minutes fighting to keep my molecules from mixing from my Bids molecules so we didn't come one Bids slash human being. Kind of like the human slash fly creature from the fly. 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. be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.