People Share The Food-Related Revenge Plot That Went Too Far

There's a golden rule that tells us to treat others as we would want them to treat us. Well, I guess the people in the following stories either didn't know about this rule or just flat out didn't care. I hope they learned their lesson for how they treated their friends, colleagues, and waiters when it came to being a jerk with food.

(Content has been edited for clarity.)

His Revenge Had Some Layers To It For A Kid So Young

“This happened a while back. It was in study hall in 8th grade, actually.

I always brought two small sandwiches to school so I could have one at lunch and one in study hall since our teacher let us eat in that class. One day as I was about to eat my sandwich, I got up to use the bathroom. As I walked back in the classroom, I saw the kid in front of me eating my sandwich. I was pretty annoyed but nothing serious at this point, so I politely confronted him and he denied it completely.

I left my sandwich on my desk the next day just to make sure it was him, and what do you know, it was. So on the third day, I hatched a plan. I put habanero cheese on my sandwich and then doused it all in ghost pepper sauce. That stuff was everywhere, but it luckily didn’t smell spicy.

I got to study hall and my plan worked flawlessly. I left my trap sandwich on my desk and got up to use the restroom. This time I took as long as I could and ended up wandering the halls of the school. I did this because my study hall teacher was insane about the hall pass, and only one guy was allowed to leave the class at a time, even for water. After about ten minutes, I came back into the class to be greeted by the sandwich thief crying hysterically with a bright red face waiting for the hall pass.

He was in the bathroom for the rest of the day.”

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He Only Wanted To Get Back At Her For Her Rudeness…

“I work as a waiter. I had a friend once serve a mother and her 15-year-old son. The mother was belligerent, rude, and demanding. Every time she demanded something and was excessively rude to the staff, the boy would roll his eyes and give him a look that said ‘sorry.’ After the constant abuse, he went to retrieve the food.

They ordered chicken strips and a quarter-pound T-bone steak with mashed potatoes. He wiped a thin but healthy booger on the bottom of the steak, scraped some gunk from the table onto it, spit into the mashed potatoes, and mixed it in with a few choice hairs. He grinned to himself as he handed the steak to the mom and the chicken strips to the boy and said, ‘Enjoy the meal.’ He excitedly anticipated watching her first bites from the kitchen door but is stopped mid-turn by the mom. She said, ‘You can’t do anything right can you? Two people and you can’t remember who gets the chicken strips.’ She proceeded to switch the plates and a warm wave of dread wash over him as the boy takes a generous mouthful of the mashed potatoes.

Afterward, the mother paid the bill and prepared herself to argue payment with the hostess. After she was out of eyeshot, the boy mouthed, ‘Sorry,’ and left a $24 tip on the bill.

He said he couldn’t sleep for days.”

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His Neighbor Will Think Twice Before Cracking Open A Brewski

“I met the new neighbor while he was sitting outside shining his boots. He was in the Army National Guard. I walked over to introduce myself and we talked a bit about the Army. I helped him shine his boots and pulled a couple of brews out of the cooler that I kept in the back of my truck.

Fast forward a few months and I began to silently wonder if I had a drinking problem. The case that I’d bought the day before had dwindled to a six-pack. I shrugged it off.

I drove my wife’s car to work one day that week. My wife worked in a shop across the street from our house and phoned me to tell me that she saw the neighbor climb into my truck and stuff his pants with cans.

At first, I was going to confront him and demand restitution, but I decided that I could avenge my missing cans by switching to bottles. So I switched and when they were empty, I refilled them with…uh…recycled brewskis and recapped them. I put them in my cooler and waited patiently. A few went missing. I waited a few days, but nothing else was taken. My point was made.”

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He’ll Learn To Respect Other People’s Lunches

“Someone in my office would always crush lunches with his gigantic lunch box. Either he ate bricks or lead, I don’t know, but I always came to the office fridge and found that my lunch was in pieces.

So, after three bouts of this, and numerous notes from myself and other colleagues, I carefully removed his lunch box, emptied the contents (a gigantic sandwich, a Twinkie, chips, some vegetable pieces, and a few other bits), and ran over them with my car. I carefully packed up his lunch and put it back in the fridge.

He kept his lunch in a cooler by his desk from then on.”

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I Wonder If They Returned With The Photos

“My dad always tells this story about working with his buddy in a novelty restaurant in the ’80s. The place was a tourist trap where all the servers dressed up like Disney characters and took pictures with the customers.

My dad’s friend worked as a waiter (Friar Tuck) while my dad was in the kitchen. ‘Tuck’ started getting tired of his job. Day after day, tourists would send food back, complain, and make him take pictures with their precious kids. The long and the short of it is, he got sick of it and devised a plan; because this was before digital cameras, tourists typically had to wait till the end of their vacation to get their film developed.

Friar Tuck would take pictures with everyone, but whenever a family was particularly obnoxious, he would offer to take their camera to the kitchen because ‘all of the chefs were in costume too.’ He’d snap a few shots of his junk on their food and bring the camera back to them. They both worked there for almost a year and never caught grief for it.”

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He’ll Think Twice Before He Acts Like A Big Shot Again

“I worked at a large, upscale seafood restaurant. I had one regular customer who was a businessman who came by once or twice a week with co-workers.

This guy was a major jerk. He would order ridiculous drinks and not tip the bartender (and frequently insist that our bartender with 12 years of experience made his drink incorrectly), abuse waitstaff (myself included), order items not on the menu, and was very arbitrary about tipping. Maybe he did this to seem like a big-shot to his co-workers (who were usually nice) or maybe his mom and dad didn’t love him enough.

Every time this jerk came in, he ordered snow crab. Anyone not familiar with this delectable treat should know that you eat it with your hands and it’s quite messy. So every time, he would take off his watch before he ate.

One night, he took off his watch, presumably forgot about it, and left. I was hosting that night and his table’s server came up to me and told me that Mr. Jerk had left his watch. Conveniently, he also neglected to leave a tip of any kind. I took the watch, sold it on eBay for over $500, and gave it to the poor server as his deserved tip.”

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What Goes Around…

“When I was in high school, I flipped burgers at a fast food place. A few months in, I was fired by an assistant manager. She used to yell and bully people to get her way and I wouldn’t have any of that. So she claimed I was rude to customers and I was fired.

Almost 15 years later, I discovered she was working at a company owned by a friend of mine. I bought him dinner and convinced him to fire her.

The job she did had nothing to do with the fast food place and I hadn’t talked to her in 15 years. It didn’t matter that she might have been a good worker or a changed person. It was petty revenge, and yet I enjoyed it quite a bit.”

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They Didn’t Care For How He Spoke To His Wife

“Years ago, in a restaurant with a large group of people, the waitstaff saw my sister’s husband verbally abusing her. He never got his meal. We all ate without him.

Every time he asked, the staff said it would be just a few more minutes. I’m convinced they intentionally starved him. They don’t even know what a scumbag he really was. Thankfully, he’s out of my sister’s life now.”

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When You Fight Fire With Napalm

“So, everyone has heard of the classic ‘Ex-lax in the brownies’ trick, right? Well, my buddy pulled that weak sauce on me about a week ago, so I pulled this little diddy on him to show him just how much worse it can get. So there is this awesome weight loss supplement called Alli, which works by ‘turning off’ the enzymes that digest ingested fats so instead of being absorbed through the gut they are instead passed right through the GI tract.

Well, I took my friend out to a truce dinner at the local Asian buffet, pretty much fat covered fat in fat, and slipped him a dose mid-meal. The amount of raw sludge that has dripped, sloshed, and exploded out of that undeserving/deserving butt is more revenge than I could ever hope for.”

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Sure, Just Throw A Spoon

“My parents built my brother and me an outdoor clubhouse when we were kids. He got the top of the clubhouse and I got the bottom. The bottom was just a square pit of river rock and spiderwebs. The access to the ropes and ladders were at the top of the clubhouse, and he had a table and some other stuff up there.

We were eating lunch outside one day, and I wanted to come up and eat with him. He said no (like he usually did), so I climbed up the ladder and threw my spoon at him.

It hit him in the head and actually cut his head open. I feel slightly bad about it now since we get along, but he was such a jerk (so were my parents) when I was a kid.”

Don’t Mess With This Chef

“I was a chef for a famous all-inclusive hotel chain.

One day, I was approached in the kitchen and told I needed to pack my bags and move 3,000 miles away to fix a labor issue at another hotel. I happily obliged but negotiated a deal where I would have my choice of any hotel location after I successfully fixed the labor issue.

I arrived at the new hotel and proceeded to diligently address the labor problem, while also taking over dinner service for 750 people.

After a few months, the labor issue had been fixed and settled, and the kitchen was running as smoothly as I like. I asked my manager about when I could make the move to another hotel per our arrangement, and I was told since I had done such a good job, they were going to make me stay where I was for an indeterminate amount of time – ie forever.

I let my management know this was unacceptable, and I demanded I be transferred in accordance with the original agreement that got me on a plan in the first place. I was told they would work on it.

I gave them a 3-week window to address the issue to give them time to discuss it with the head office. I told them if they did not come through in 3 weeks, I would walk off the job and never look back.

After 3 quiet weeks, I politely asked my manager if my transfer had come through or at least was still in the works. It was not.

The next morning, I gave the entire dinner staff the day off and told them not to answer any work calls. I set up the kitchen as if I were prepping dinner – onions and herbs in hotel pans full of water with foil covers, garlic sizzling in pans, etc.

I kept the charade up until around 4:30 pm at which time I left the kitchen, went to my room, picked up my bags and went to the lobby to wait for my ride. The manager freaked out (there were 750 pre-paid dinner reservations that night and NO food) and told me if I walked out, I would never work for the company again. I laughed, shook his hand, and said goodbye.

I never looked back and never talked to anyone there ever again.”

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“They Never Touched My Cookies Again”

“I used to buy small treat bags of gourmet cookies from a local bakery a few years ago. I would eat maybe one a day, but they were a treat for me. Back then, my husband and I had a retail store where a few friends would hang out. Well, my husband and our friends (most were guys) would just help themselves. But they had no self-control nor would they even ask for some. I would buy the bag of cookies for me, and they’d be gone. I would try to hide them but couldn’t.

So I bagged up a bunch of dog treats that the local pet food store had that looked very similar to the cookies we offered. They were all about the same size.

I placed them where all the guys could see them and waited.

Yep, they tried them. They all asked if they were a bad batch or maybe the bakery missed an ingredient or two in the dough.

I waited until they tried to eat more than three each before I told them they were dog treats.

They never touched my cookies again.”

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He Added A Little Something Special To The Recipe

“I was once jumped by a guy and he came into the restaurant I was working in with some friends about three days later.

I was working in the kitchen, but it was an open concept, so the customers could see the line cooks as we worked. Anyway, this jerk made a point to point me out to his friends and laugh about jumping me.

Needless to say, everything that guy ate was disgusting. Everything touched the floor, my balls, had hair in it, or spit. His roll touched my butt and I blew snot into his soup. I regret nothing.”

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It Just Keep Getting Worse And Worse For Kevin

“When I was in high school, I worked with this poor kid named Kevin at Wendy’s. He was a juvenile delinquent, was a few years older than me, little bit bigger than me, had nasty tattoos on his neck, and supposedly was out of jail on work release. He tried to be a tough guy and bully me whenever we worked together. Stuff like generally talking smack unprovoked, getting real close up in my face, and that stance where you puff out your chest and pull your arms back like you’re going to swing. The most irritating was when he would walk right up in my face then flinch like he was going to throw a punch at me, then just laugh and say some rude crap.

I got along with just about everyone at work, and he did somewhat, but we just did not fit together. One day, the exchanges between us were so apparent and obviously stressed, everyone working was talking about me fighting him. I dispelled these rumors as I wanted to keep my job, but my destiny on this day said otherwise.

First was the backdoor incident. The store had a large back door with a peephole in it, and it could only be opened from the inside. There was a buzzer outside that employees would push if they wanted back in. Well, Kevin was locked outside and his patience while awaiting his re-entry had run out. Instead of tapping the buzzer, this guy was mashing it and holding it down while everyone inside went nuts. We were all busy, and I was running to the back to grab some heavy boxes. While holding these boxes I was going to open the back door while I walked past. I tried to push on the door, but it wouldn’t open. I leaned into it, but couldn’t push much more because of the boxes. I was in a hurry, so I yelled ‘GET BACK, I’M GOING TO KICK THE DOOR!’ He didn’t hear me over the loud, constant buzzing. I gave that door a swift ‘THIS IS SPARTA’ kick and it opened about three inches then bounced closed again. I kicked it again and it opened, revealing a bashed up and somewhat upset Kevin.

He was trying to look in the peephole when I kicked the door. I broke the crap out of his nose; the tip was almost touching his cheek, bright red-purple, swollen eyes, broken. He was ticked off. I immediately started apologizing and backing away from him, but he came at me like a rabid monkey. We were quickly surrounded by employees and separated. I was told to go up front and manage fries and to not come into the back part of the store until Kevin left to the hospital.

Then the final event. Less than 10 minutes later, I was working the fries, which entailed grabbing a metal basket out of boiling hot oil and dumping the fresh fries into an adjacent tray. I was doing this, and everyone around me was talking about how I just broke Kevin’s face. On his way leaving our store for the hospital, he decided to come right up to me again and try to instigate a fight while I was dumping some fresh fries. Kevin pulled his signature move of flinching at me like he was going to throw a punch. I retaliated by returning my own flinch with the basket I was holding. I didn’t actually hit him with the hot fry basket, but I forgot about the boiling hot oil still clinging to the basket. When I flinched at him and shook the basket, tiny boiling drops of grease splattered his face and neck.

I had just broken his nose on accident, then threw boiling hot oil on his face on accident. He instantly threw me to the ground. I was a wrestler, so his freshly broken and burned nose was just smashed and wiped across a dirty floor for a few seconds before we were broken up. He was an absolute mess. He left for the hospital and I got sent home. That was it. No charges. No questions from my manager after. No more being scheduled with Kevin. Not even any paperwork about two vicious assaults and fights on the same day. I felt really bad but simultaneously justified. Both incidents were honest accidents which could have easily been avoided if he weren’t such a jerk. I still felt like the outcome was worse than reasonable.”

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He Could Have Just Asked His Teammate To Stop

“A kid on my track team would always come by and take a drink of whatever I had on me. I was sick of it and brought a soda with me which had been spiked with three times the recommended dose of ex-lax.

Sure enough, he came by, and I said, ‘You know what Tony, why don’t you just take the whole thing.’ Well, we were having a home meet that day, and he was our best pole vaulter and part of the relay team.

I thought maybe he’d feel a little off and under-preform. In the midst of our warmups, he went missing and was absent the entire meet.”

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Way To Take It Out On Everyone Else

“In third grade, I was falsely accused by the hall monitor of talking during quiet time. Even after my dad came in and talked to the teacher, she still punished me by keeping me from watching a movie and eating cinnamon bread with everyone else. So the day before the class watched the movie and ate snacks, I unplugged the breadmaker right before we left school so no one would get any.

I figured if I couldn’t have it, no one could.”

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