rSlash - r/Prorevenge I Got My EVIL Teacher Fired

Episode Date: August 31, 2024

0:00 Intro 0:06 Straight to jail 4:03 Not lying 12:38 Reverse gazumped Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to rslashprorevenge, where OP sends a scammer to jail. Our next reddit post is from proaway. This happened nearly 10 years ago when I was a college student. I was working full time and also going to college full time. After my morning chemistry lab, I drove from campus up where I worked only to realize that my wallet was missing from my purse. I'd used my wallet that morning, but it was nowhere to be found. I called my credit card company and, sure enough,

there was a recent transaction at a local bar for a large tab. I think any normal person would have claimed fraud and called the rest of the wallet items a loss. I immediately called the cops to report my wallet was stolen, either while I was in class or perhaps sometime during the day. The cops told me to contact a different jurisdiction. My school was on a reservation. I called the reservation police who told me that it's also not their jurisdiction since I wasn't sure the loss occurred on campus and I discovered the loss elsewhere. Cue my frustration and the budding vengeance.

I'm a people person and having worked retail operations for years, I had a good sense of how to communicate with employees. I called the restaurant where my card was used and gave a description of the situation along with the last digit of the card number. The luckiest part was the woman I talked to happened to be the server. She gave me some key information that legally she never should have provided to someone who wasn't a cop, but I think my story appealed to her. She said the tab was so high because they left such a huge tip, and the guy who used the card said his girlfriend was treating him to lunch and drinks, hence the female name on the card.

Also, he was with two people who paid for their own food and drinks with their own credit card. Also, he was with two people who paid for their own food and drinks with their own credit card. I asked her for the name on the second card, which she gave me without thinking twice. I took advantage of a customer database to find a phone number for the uniquely named gentleman who did pay for his own tab. I built up the nerve to call this innocent guy a couple of days later, claiming to be a private investigator. I calmly warned him that he would be considered unaccomplished to the crime if he didn't provide the name and phone number of the person he ate with at that specific restaurant.

He was nervous and didn't want to help, saying that he should call his lawyer before talking to me. I told him that as a private investigator, I would ensure that he's not held accountable if he would cooperate. The Guy was able to give me the thief's name, but not his phone number. Without the thief's phone number, I turned to social media. The name pulled up a local private profile. At the time, Facebook allowed banners to still be visible, which, if I remember the Stone Age of Facebook, was basically a status.

His status was complaining about a chem lab test that I, too, was about to take. I didn't recognize his face, but I could now confirm that my wallet was stolen from lab if my professor could ID the guy. I printed the Facebook page with his picture and status and brought it to my chem teacher. I explained the situation and he told me that that student sat at the corner of my table. It all made sense because in chem lab we'd put our bags and purses at the front of the class so as to not contaminate them with whatever we worked with. That's how he had stolen my wallet from my purse days before. Working with my professor, the campus police came in during

class and arrested him. And the best part, He was on probation for some other misbehavior. So he was actually put in jail for this crime. I wasn't part of the trial or anything like that, but I did explain my tactics to the reservation police, who patted me on the back. Oh, and I also received compensation checks from his prison for like two bucks a day until I was able to replace the fifty dollars lost. As a much older person, I now hope that he has his life together. I don't remember much of him in class, but he was a very focused student. We all make mistakes, but his life seemed to be defined by a string of bad choices. Looking at his name in public records today shows that he hasn't quite

found the right path yet. Our next Redditdit post is from Flanigo Milk. This happened during grade 11 in high school. My computer class had a year long substitute teacher because our amazing teacher was out for a year working on a government contract. Our previous teacher was outstanding. He had six different classes in our classroom all happening at the same time. Computer repair, programming 1, programming 2, networking 1, networking 2A, and networking 2B.

He would give a lecture for each of the classes on a specific day of the week, programming on Monday, repair on Tuesday, and so on. We would all work in our own groups, and everything went quite well. When the next school year came around, I found out that we had a substitute for the school year. I had two back to back blocks in this class because I was doing two courses. The new teacher was a foreign woman that none of us had ever heard of before, Mrs. S. Me and my friends were all optimistic because based on a very short conversation, she seemed

to be quite informed and had a good background. That optimism did not last long. On the first day of class, Mrs. S introduced herself as a programming teacher who had been in school for four years. She went on to tell us about her programming experience in Microsoft Excel and Microsoft Access. She then told us that the programming students wouldn't be needing Java and the C++ course that we had signed up for. And instead, we'd be doing Database and Excel because those are what she learned and she said, and I quote, They'll be more useful than C and the Java.

She also cancelled all the lunch clubs that use computers because she didn't think that high school students could be trusted with computers alone. Understandably, some of us were quite upset about that, considering that we came there to program. She also didn't give the repair people or the networking people any kind of support and completely stopped giving those lectures as well, preferring instead to just let the students figure it out themselves and self-teach without giving any resources to do so, and occasionally throwing out a test that the last teacher left behind for her.

This continued for about two weeks, until one day she came in quite irritated that we would actually be doing the Java now unless we wanted to keep doing Database. So we switched to Java and she basically left us out to dry from there. And since she wasn't teaching Excel anymore, she just spent her time harassing people in the computer repair class. First, she told us the shop room was too messy and made us throw out 90% of our training workstations and equipment because they weren't important in our eyes. This was equipment that didn't belong to the school, but actually belonged to our real teacher.

We took home everything that we could steal for safekeeping, but she did end up throwing out a few thousand dollars in computer equipment. Then she started imposing stupid rules on us such as, you can't have the computer on while you're troubleshooting inside it because you could electrocute yourself, or you don't need the case open to troubleshoot motherboard lights, or my personal favorite and the most scary. Maybe you should change the power supply to 240B if you aren't getting enough power. We followed most of her stupid requests as much as we could because she threatened to

lock us out of the lab room and give us only textbook work if we didn't. Needless to say, it was a challenging time. One of the students in the networking area got fed up with this and started doing his own coursework and lecturing us so that we could at least get some kind of use out of the courses. To his credit, he was actually pretty good, but Mrs. S had the balls to force him into doing it from there on out and then turn around and give him a low grade for not getting his own work done on time. A few months of this very uneasy balance go by and my mother comes down with colon cancer. I've already had a handful of other family members suddenly taken from me by cancer. So

understandably this is a very stressful time. I was joking with my friends and trying not to break down over the whole thing. I had this very unstable laptop that was running Linux that would crash if looked at funny, and it had a horrible habit of corrupting the OS when the battery died because the reserve shutdown sensor didn't work anymore. While I was working on the school desktop computer, I had a few pages open that I was taking notes in and a Facebook tab so I could keep in contact with my mother because she was in surgery and I was waiting for her to come out. I look over and the teacher is snooping through my laptop, opening folders and closing windows, and eventually pushes the power button to shut it down, which usually corrupts anything

I was doing. The following happened. What the hell do you think you're doing? I said. You shouldn't be on Facebook or writing notes on a personal computer during class time, especially when your grades are slipping. Oh, thanks for bringing that up in front of everyone. That gives you no right to touch my stuff.

You better hope you didn't just corrupt everything. This laptop breaks easily. Then you shouldn't have it out during class. Keep that tone up and I'll see you get detention. I'm sorry. I'm just having a hard time at home right now. My mother was diagnosed with colon cancer and I was waiting to hear back.

You don't look like a kid whose mother has cancer. Quit making sob story excuses. Are you effing kidding me? It took every fiber of my body not to stand up and slap that b-word right there. I gave her the dirtiest thousand yard stare I think I could have ever done while also trying not to burst out crying. I spoke to nobody for the rest of the day until I got home. People kept asking if I was okay and I ignored everyone.

My mother was out of the hospital and home by the time that I got home. People kept asking if I was okay and I ignored everyone. My mother was out of the hospital and home by the time that I got there. I broke down crying and told her about my day. Her face was comforting, but you could see the fire of an angry woman behind her brown eyes. She told me not to worry and that it'd be okay. A few weeks passed and I was called into the office for a one-on-one parent-teacher conference that someone forgot to tell me about. All the teachers that I had that year were present. Good and bad.

Including the learning assistant teacher, the VP and the principal herself. They told me that everyone was there to discuss my grade slipping as soon as my mother came. My mother was about 10 minutes late, leaving me to awkwardly sit with all these people. My mom comes in and is all smiles. Sorry I'm late. I got held late at the hospital. One of the teachers, I'm not sure who, asked her why she was at the hospital and if everything was okay.

My mother answered in her happy way, I was just getting my cancer checked on because I have cancer. The room went cold and her voice seemingly dripped with blood when she said it. My computer's teacher went pale, and everyone in the room was giving a confused, what on earth did you do, look. My mother then told the story about how I came home crying over how I was treated by Mrs. S. Meanwhile, Mrs. S tried to become one with the wall. My mom ended it with, How dare you say something so careless to my son! I hope you're ashamed, and I hope you don't get invited back for another year!

She then returned back to her normal happy self and discussed my grades like nothing happened, while half the teachers were still trying to figure out what just happened. And my mom told them that now that she was out of the hospital, my grades should improve again. I just sat quiet the whole time and tried to suppress bursting out laughing. After that day, Mrs. S never directly spoke to me again. She had instructions relayed through other people or gave them to the class as a whole. She did her damnedest to be nowhere near me and to say nothing to me.

My grades improved quite a bit and the year ended with me passing. Mrs. S was previously offered a job at the school as a secondary computer teacher, but after all the trouble, the job was rescinded. The next year, when our first computer teacher returned, he was furious to learn that most of his equipment and personal books had been thrown out. We returned the things that we snagged during the purge, but he still lost a few thousand dollars in personal teaching stuff. The school paid him back with ten thousand dollars, but he says he lost so much more than that in time and preset handmade equipment. We told him all about the horror show, and he gave us all an extensive test normally given at the end of the year, which the vast majority of us failed.

We ended up redoing all the computer courses from the previous year, because in his words, she didn't even teach us the basics. Mrs. S can no longer teach in this district or the neighboring districts. Our next reddit post is from Fabine. This happened 15 years ago, and it's one of the proudest moments of my life. My best friend and her husband have 5 kids together. They lived in an expensive city and rented an old 4 bedroom house for 400 bucks per week. The house was very run down, with a disgusting kitchen and stinking drains, but it was all they could afford at the time.

Still, they made it work. The owner was a nice lady who was extremely wealthy and very fond of my friend. She froze the rent for five years and promised to let them buy the house once they saved enough to get a loan from the bank. Since she helped other people in a similar way, they knew they could trust her so they saved every cent they could. It took them five years, but they finally told her they were ready. Two days later, the nice old lady passed away before anything was put in writing.

Enter the new owners, the ladies' four adult children. They were each extremely wealthy in their own right. They inherited a huge portfolio of properties. When they first spoke to my friends, they assured them that the sale would go through, but they would have to wait until probate had settled. Confident, my friends started making some changes to the place. They started by stripping wallpaper, painting, and making plans. Finally, probate was settled, and the owners agreed to go ahead with a sale for the previously

agreed upon price. My friends applied for the loan, but to their shock, it was refused. The owners had raised the asking price by $80,000 without telling my friends. To make things even worse, the house would be put on an open market. In seven days, there would be an open house, and with the market the way it was, it would probably sell immediately. My friends were devastated. They might be able to borrow enough, but it would take longer than a week to get. To make matters worse, property prices had soared recently and rents had gone up a lot

while theirs had been frozen. Not only were my friends going to struggle to get the money, but if the place was sold to someone else and they were asked for a higher rent or were evicted, it would be nearly impossible to find an affordable place with more than two bedrooms. I was scared for my friends, but also I was incandescently angry. Those greedy bastards were some of the wealthiest people in the city. They were screwing over a struggling family for less than 20k for each of them. They didn't need the money, it was pure greed and it was obvious they'd always plan to do this. So while my friends scrambled to come't need the money, it was pure greed and it was obvious they'd always

plan to do this. So, while my friends scrambled to come up with the money, I started plotting. I looked up advice on what helps to make a sale. We needed to make the place as undesirable as possible without making my friends look like bad tenants. Apparently, your house is supposed to look uncluttered, so we moved all the furniture from the walls, added some extra furniture, and borrowed ornaments. We also hung a load of motorcycle memorabilia on the walls. This made the place feel smaller. And as for smell, my friend boiled a head of cabbage on the stove, and we sprayed ammonia around the front and the back doors. It smelled like the neighborhood cats had been marking their territory.

We also poured two dozen rotten eggs down the drain to make it smell like sewer gas. We obtained a moldy old couch and dumped it in the front yard of our neighbor across the road, with their permission of course. We started calling friends for help. Anyone with a loud and bad car was asked to do a few laps in front of the block during opening day. The street was unusually busy that day. Everyone we knew found a reason to drive by. It was practically rush hour. We also called our mates from the rugby club.

A big portion of our club are very large men. The next door neighbor set up a barbecue in their front yard and we offered them free food and cheap beer. They came on motorcycles, wearing their roughest gear. There was quite a crowd. A lot of people showed up for the open house. Quite a few were in and out within minutes. One lady sat in her car and watched the party next door before driving away.

The one bloke who stayed any length of time was brave enough to start up a conversation with someone leaving the party. He asked the guy if they were there often, and he said, yeah, every couple of weeks or so. Then, the morning after we continued the party, our last party was three doors up. The party-goer also helpfully mentioned the troublesome drains that were always getting blocked by tree roots and stinking up the house. The potential buyer left without making an offer. So my friends were the only ones to make an offer. They still had to pay more than what they'd planned, but not as much as what those greedy bastards wanted.

My friend signed the paper and paid the deposit that day. So when that one buyer who was talking to the neighbor put in an offer $30,000 higher than what my friends offered, there was nothing the owners could do about it. After all, our government has strict anti-gazumping laws. For context, gazumping is when an agent or seller accepts an offer that you make to buy a property at an agreed price, but the property is sold to someone else. This usually happens when the vendor is able to sell the property to a higher amount to

someone else. I would have loved to see the owner's face when they found out. That was r 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.