rSlash - r/Prorevenge I Worked for the Russia Mob and Blew Up a Dumpster!

Episode Date: August 6, 2021

r/Prorevenge In today's episode, we have a bizarre story where OP worked for the Russian mob at a grocery store that was a front for a money laundering operation. OP and another coworker clash over a promotion opportunity, which culminates in OP sabotaging the coworker's bread recipe. The coworker has to toss the ruined dough, which continues to expand in the dumpster's heat and eventually explodes in a doughy mess. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to R-slash, a podcast where I read the best post from a cross-reddit. Today's subreddit is R-slash Pro Revenge, where OP works for the Russian Mafia and blows up a dumpster. Our next reddit post is from Silverwolf. I'm a professional baker and I've worked for various companies developing recipes and the like. I found a job at a local grocery store working super early mornings on their pastries for the day. There were usually a few other people there, one of whom was a mixer. Mixers typically follow a spec sheet with the weights of all the ingredients they need to batch mix.

It's kind of mindless work and doesn't require much thought. The mixer was a young guy, fresh out of his teens. We became fast friends and enjoyed chatting up about baking, and I'd help him put our supply order away. Good times. One day, a woman with a thick Russian accent came in and handed us business cards. She told us that, whatever we're getting paid, her company would double it if we came to work for them.

I scheduled an interview thanking this would be a great opportunity for me. It was a new grocery store concept, kind of like a glitzy, glammy, European style Costco, whatever that means. When I went in for the interview, the place was literally still under construction. I met the lead baker, and we hit it off right away. He warned me that the Big Boss had interesting tastes, and we'd need to work with that. No biggie, more money so let's go. They hired us both, and over the next several months, it was a really interesting and fun experience.

The Big Boss, who was a perpetually angry, thick, burly Russian man, wanted this place to be like Costco. He wanted mass production of quality pastries. They were bringing in crazy amounts of new equipment, including folders, shapers, and injectors that were easily worth millions of dollars. However, we didn't have much equipment to start with, and we were doing a lot of mixing in trash cans. Remember my mixer buddy? Well, he was working on the bread dough using spec sheets provided by our lead baker. Over time they brought in more staff, and it was a lot of fun developing new recipes,

experimenting with ratios, and figuring out how to make the types of products that our boss wanted. Oh, and did of products that our boss wanted. Oh, and did I mention that our boss was a huge butthole? Oh, yeah. When he was reviewing some cheesecake I made, he said, good job, sweetie. I came back with. You can call me Miss, Ma'am, or my name is fine. He scalded me, and from that point on, he treated me like garbage.

We hired on other women, and I watched him hit on them Some of them were just cool with being sexually harassed, I guess This place was paying top dollars, so you had to get in good with the big boss, right? So the stage is set here the big boss quickly turned his business into a game of survivor He would fire people on the spot for no reason. One day, one of the people that he sacked was our lead baker. It came as a surprise since he was developing all the recipes that we were using. I inherited a lot of his notes and his work was divided between me and the mixer. So this whole time, the mixer was kissing the boss' butt really hard. He noticed

an open position with the lead Baker gone and quickly became invested in the idea of him running the bakery show and making some serious money. At the same time, my relationship with Big Boss was quickly declining. For example, I gave him some sample cinnamon rolls that I made and he came back with, I hate these, they're terrible. I said, what do you not like? We can change anything about them. The dough, the filling, the icing. I don't know. I just don't like them. On a hunch, I gave some cinnamon rolls from the same batch to another lady there that he had eyes for. And I asked her to present the cinnamon rolls to him as if she had made them. She offered

him the same product that I'd given him minutes before and he loved it. Right, sure. Anyway, I noticed that my notes were out of place one day and a coworker informed me that my mixer buddy was stealing my work and presenting it as his. The mixer had also been approaching me and asking me lots of baking questions, which was fine. But I knew that his knowledge of industrial ratio baking was mediocre at best. He was just a mixer. Following a recipe was the only thing that he knew how to do. Knowing this, I made a decoy copy of my notes, but this time I put in really, really awful

recipes with huge amounts of salt or yeast. Anyone who knew how to build a recipe could look at it and go, whoa, that is way too much, but not my mixer buddy. My original plan was to leave this in an obvious spot as bait and let him steal the awful recipes, but Big Boss had other plans. We sat down for a pre-launch meeting and he informed me that I wasn't going to be working in the bakery anymore, and I was gonna be moved

to store setup. The mixer was going to be taking over as the lead baker. I guess all that butt kissing really paid off. And the boss wanted me to give him all my notes so far. No problem boss. A day later the fun really began. The mixer mixed up a huge batch of super salty cake batter. I heard the big boss screaming at him that this is way too much salt, but

wait, it gets better. We were setting up industrial baking equipment and we had to test larger quantity mixing machines. They did a test run for some bread dough with my decoy recipe that had triple the yeast and sugar. It didn't come out right, obviously, so the mixer had to throw it away. His choice? The dumpster out back in the dead heat of summer. This was hundreds of pounds of dough. The funny thing about massive amounts of bread dough is that it doesn't just magically stop rising and be thrown away, especially in a hot dumpster. A few hours later, I looked out back to see my mixer buddy shoveling this massive blob

of dough into trash cans. Because it had exploded from the dumpster like an uncovered blinder spewing out of bread smoothie. So OP included a picture of what this looks like and for those of you who are listening but not watching, God how do I describe this? Imagine enough bread dough to fill a small truck, both the bit of the truck and the inside of the truck and the engine compartment of the truck. It's this like white, yellow sort of gelatinous looking mixture that is just utterly overflowed from this dumpster.

So basically, it's like a mudslide, but instead of mud, it's bread dough. And oh my God, it just occurs to me. This is from a dumpster. It's from a food dumpster at that. So that means that all that bread dough would have like joined with everything else in the dumpster to create this, basically, it'd be like a fruit cake, but instead of fruits and nuts, it's weak sold garbage. So I got sweet revenge. I should also point out that this store was really strange. They had been ordering double the amount of all this crazy industrial baking equipment

and just storing everything in the back. We had nowhere to put any of the stuff they ordered. I also looked up the company they were subcontracted under and it was a dead address in Russia. The big boss also had arm security guards everywhere. This was a grocery store mind you. I had a feeling that this company was just a front for money laundering. Eventually, I was fired by big boss, which was great because I'd been job hunting full well knowing that this business was a sinking ship. I had a new job lined up already. They had their grand opening, did business for three months, then closed.

Rip Mixer. So OP, I guess you could say that in that job, that mixer made a lot of dough. Our next reddit post is from CM Senior. So I'm a cancer researcher and a guest professor at a university school of medicine teaching my specialty, which is imaging. Besides the usual acquisitions of medical images using MRIs, CTs, etc., imaging has a lot to do with image processing. Some days, I'm just a glorified programmer slash IT guy. And as anyone who's ever programmed anything will tell you, coding is a very personal activity. With enough experience, you can tell who

wrote something just by looking at the lines of code. I'm also in my late 20s and I'm not native to this country, and it's my first year here as a guest professor. So some students took me as this inexperienced gullible forendude. As part of my modules grading, the students have to submit two reports that are each were 10% of their final grade. These reports are about image processing, and they have to code a fair bit. As usual, there are students who make a lot of efforts, students who do minimal work, and students who cheat. As I was grading the reports, I noticed a small group of students who found reports from previous years online and literally copy and pasted those reports, changing only their names.

It was a phase palm moment because those reports weren't even good and they had lots of errors. Naturally, I gave each of them a zero and just kept grading the reports that I had left. Meanwhile, these students casually asked me in the halls about their reports. Of course, I can't comment on that until I release the grades. One time, this student who copied 98% of another report according to plagiarism checker asked me when I would release the grades and came up with the story that he worked really hard on his reports. He said that his exam hadn't gone well so he was hoping the grade on his reports were enough to get him to pass.

I mean submitting another person's work as your own is very wrong but it was an online submission and impersonal. Right now this guy was just lying through his teeth and to my face, I could feel my blood boiling, but I didn't lose my composure. Instead, I came up with a plan. I knew that my exam was the last exam of the semester, and that after that, the students usually go home or on family vacations while they wait for their grades to be posted online. So, I graded their exams and put their grades into my Excel with the report grades. Four of my students had zeroes due to cheating on their reports, and if I graded their reports

with 50% of the max grade, they would barely fail the module. But they would fail nonetheless, so it was on. In order to be fair, I bumped everyone else's grades. A bunch of people with miserable reports ended up barely passing because of my grade bump. But even though the reports were bad, it was their own work and not copied from anywhere. You see, students are entitled to make an appointment to review their grades after publishing and before the grades are locked in for that year. Basically, we just go through their exam and reports together, and their goal is to convince me to give them extra points and hopes that they pass the module.

I knew that cheaters would come. After all, they thought they fooled me once already, and they still had the points on the other report to bargain for. So, I just waited for their emails. Low and behold, they write me the same day the grades go online and saying how hard they worked on their reports, and that they don't understand how they only got 50%. They also said they wanted to make an appointment. I was ecstatic. Sure, let's review your grades. Do you remember when I said that my exam was the last exam?

Well, these students were already on vacations. Some very far away. They begged me for an online appointment. No can do. University policy and all. Furthermore, these students had three days to show up for the appointment. Otherwise, their grades were locked in, which was also university policy. So here they come, cutting their vacation short and catching planes, and to some spend hours and buses and trains to make it on time. I know what many of you are thinking. They would come, I would show the plagiarism checker results, and reveal that I know that it's not their work and send them on their way. Well, I considered that,

but I had something better in mind. Those appointments usually take 10 minutes. I show them their work with my notes and what's wrong and right, and they try to find inconsistencies in my grading and bargain for more points. However, I wasn't even giving them the opportunity. Muah! So, one by one, they sit with me individually. I go through their exams and reports

and I ask them questions, lots of questions. Why'd you do this? What's your reasoning for this? Of course they don't know the answers because it's not their work so they mumble some random stuff because they don't know what to say. Point by point, mistake by mistake, I explain why it's wrong, how it should be done, lecturing the same material that they'd already been lectured on during class. I make it boring. I make it painful. I spent hours with each one of these students throughout those three days. They always came back with the same. But I worked

so hard on this. And I saw the little smirk on their faces because they thought that it would be so easy to fool the gullible foreigner again. As the hours went by and I'm walking through the air as one by one, I could see their expressions change, little by little their hopes of passing being slowly crushed. And finally, they realized that I knew they cheated and I wasn't going to give up in the extra points. At this point, they tried to cut their appointment short and leave, but I wouldn't let them. I would say, we need to finish the review of your grades, its university policy, and I just kept going.

Extending their misery for one more hour or two, it was legal torture, plain and simple. It was glorious. In the end, every single one of those cheaters left with a crushed soul looking their eyes and a fail for my class. They knew that I'd caught them, that I baited them, and they fell for it. They'd ruin their family vacations, spent money to travel back and forth, and wasted precious summertime. When they got here, I bored them to death, and they had nothing to show for it. And next year they'll have to repeat the module with me. I hope you enjoy your summer. See you next year. Wait, OP, so you're a multi-lingual professor, doctor, coder.

And these students thought they could outsmart you? I'm sorry, but those students really had it coming. Also, down in the comments, we had this story from Charis. My dad's a professor, and his colleague marked an essay and found that her words were used extensively, but not credited. The student didn't know the lecturer was divorced, and the plagiarized stuff was written under her married name. Whoops! Our next reddit posted from Yeshua. I bought a house four years ago in a quiet neighborhood. I had wanted to move into that neighborhood for years. My best friend lives there. It was a couple of blocks from my kid's school, and it was a good neighborhood. Then, COVID hit.

My neighbors across the street were forced to move at the beginning of the pandemic before the eviction moratorium was in place. They were really good neighbors. We were friendly with each other and we were sad to see them go. So when the property owner rented to a new family, we were hoping that we could cultivate a friendly relationship. Unfortunately, that was not the case. About a month after they moved in, the lockdown started. And that's when things went from zero to a hundred real quick. For the next year, every night there was a huge party. There were cars down the street with music so loud you could hear it over regular house noise in every room in my house. My friend in the next cul-de-sac over would text me regularly to ask

at the music that he was hearing was my neighbor's music. We tried to be civil. I asked politely. I brought them beer and I offered them some killer for 20. Eventually they threatened me and my wife so we started calling the cops almost every night for 4 months. We organized with the neighbors and they started calling the cops as well. Eventually the other neighbors on the street started selling their houses because the

renters were just that bad. We were still upside down in our place, so that wasn't an option for us. Eventually, the cops told me that I had to stop calling and that it wasn't their issue to deal with. That was a much bigger nuisance in the renters' music. Around this time, the housing market really started taking off. Houses in my area were selling for 40 to 50 thousand dollars over the appraisal value. My wife and I calculated how much money we would need to sell our house for to move,

and we listed our house for that amount. In just three days, we had a handful of obscene offers to choose from. But it was the lowest offer that stood out to us the most. Their offer was a good $20,000 under the next lowest offer, but they sent a letter. I'm a sucker for a letter, especially one with a picture of a young pregnant couple, a dog, and a patrol car. It turns out the young man is a newly appointed cop at the local police department. And he takes his patrol car home. I knew at that point that this was the family to sell my house to, money be damned.

I moved out as the neighbors were throwing a huge party. The next day the cop moved in, and they haven't had another party since. I drive by my old neighbor's house regularly on my way to my buddy's place. They just sit quietly in their garage looking bored. I make sure to honk and wave every time. OP, I like how the cops were like, sorry not our problem, and you're like, fine, I'll

just make it your problem. Also, down in the comments, we have a similar story for micro-giant. I did the same thing with the condo ones, but the cops' offer was only $3,500 under the other offer, so I was kind of lucky there. The cop wound up arresting my obnoxious neighbor several times until he finally wound up spending so much time in jail that he ran out of money and his place got foreclosed on. My initial theory was that he lost his job due to missing work, but another former neighbor of mine said that his primary income was being a weed dealer, and a combination

of having a cop living downstairs and our state legalizing weed pretty much killed that, so I don't know how true that is. That was our slash pro revenge, and if you like this content be sure to follow my podcast because I put on your Reddit podcast episodes every single day. you