rSlash - r/Pettyrevenge I Tricked My Mom Into Ruining Her Pizza 🍕🤮

Episode Date: June 13, 2021

r/Pettyrevenge Every week, OP makes pizza for his family. He loves extra sauce, so he pours extra pizza sauce on his pizza. His parents flip out and accuse him of selfishly hoarding all the sauce for himself instead of sharing with the family. He tells his mom that he was only using the leftover sauce, and that there's no way she could finish the rest of the sauce by herself. Infuriated, OP's mom dumps the remaining jar of sauce onto her pizza, creating a gooey mountain of tomato sauce. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

At Enterprise, we know you're constantly on the move. Getting this? Thanks, Mom. Fixing that. You reach a destination. And then it's on to the next. And when life is moving at the speed of, well, life. Enterprise is right there with you.

Around the corner and around the globe. We'll keep you moving forward and surprise for lives and drive. Welcome to R-Slash, a podcast where I read the best post from a cross-reddit. Today's subreddit is R-Slash Petty Revenge, where a food thief eats a candy bar filled with two million Scoville hot sauce. Our next reddit posted from Oaknog. This Petty Revenge happened a few minutes ago and required very little effort on my part. million Scoville hot sauce. Our next reddit postage from Okinaw. This petty revenge happened a few minutes ago and required very little effort on my part. I make pizza for my family

about every two weeks. One pizza for me, one for my brother, one for my parents. I enjoy my pizza with a decent amount of sauce, but because I always make my pizza first, I never add as much sauce as I want to because I want to make sure there's enough sauce for everyone. Well, the last few times, I've noticed that we've had a whole half jar of sauce left over afterwards when it's too late to add any more sauce to my pizza. Inevitably, this whole half jar of sauce gets thrown out after a week because no one's eating it. So, today, I decided that I would sauce my pizza to my heart's content. My brother added a normal amount of sauce to his pizza, then I added mine with a few more spoonfuls than normal.

QYELING AND SCREAMING FROM ALL THREE FAMILY MEMBERS. Actual yelling and screaming over pizza sauce. They were yelling about how selfish I was for not leaving enough for my parents. I've went out to them that there's still a half jar of sauce and we never use it all anyways, but this fell on deaf ears. One thing to note here is that my family is infamously proud and stubborn, and I do not say this in admiration. Living among them, you learn how to manipulate these quirks to your advantage. I did not appreciate being aggressively yelled at, especially because of sauce of all things.

I knew that all I needed to do to get back at them was say one sentence. One sentence and it would all be over. I don't get why you're upset, there's no way that you're going to use the rest of that sauce. My mother looks me dead in the eye as she dumps the whole jar of sauce on the pizza. She's fallen for my trap. I smirk. By the time they're done spreading the sauce,

it's just one thick sea of red, taunting them in their hubris. I see the horror in their faces. They know that it's way too much sauce, but they'll never admit it. When it comes out of the oven, the sauce has overflowed all over the pan. Lord only knows what the oven looks like. Their first slice with the

pizza cutters since sauce flying in all directions. You can hear the great pizza god laugh. And the P.A. Stay Resistance? My father picking up the first slice and the cheese sliding right off of it in cartoonish fashion. They stare in silent anger, trapped in the saucy prison of their own making. As I type this, my parents are eating their scalding tomato sauce soup that contains some soggy dough and cheese. Meanwhile, I sit victoriously eating my delicious and perfectly sauce pizza. Opie, what a saucy tail, but P.A. State resistance, I think you mean pizza Day Resistance. Our next reddit posted from SickMisc.

So my mom is a very toxic person. The type who blames everyone else for Hermes Fortunes instead of owning up to her mistakes in trying to grow as a person. She always has to be the victim and always has to one up whatever problems you're having. It was tough to grow up with and it's still a pain to deal with. I'm a 28 year old woman by the way. My mom used to be really particular about her socks. Every pair was unique and she was far too snobby to wear mismatched socks. I know, lame, right? I used to wear mismatched socks just to irritate her, but that's not

actually what the story is about. She's also an alcoholic, so she would often drink too much and either forget her loose things. One day when I was 12 or so, my mom got slosh and started telling me that her life would have been better if she had aborted me. I was very upset, but I was a 12 year old girl who hadn't developed a backbone yet, so I didn't have the guts to tell her off. But I just had to do something.

I didn't exactly ask to be born. Q Petty revenge. Every night when my mom would get drunk, I would steal one sock from each of her pairs and stuff it behind the dryer. After a week or two of doing this, my mom no longer had any matching socks. She exploded and asked if I was wearing her socks,

and I innocently told her that no, I was not wearing her socks, and maybe she had just lost them after a few drinks. My mom was displeased. Eventually she found her stupid socks and remained suspicious of me, but she couldn't prove that they had actually just fallen there. Down in the comments, we had this story from Wild Seven Mom. My father, who was a violent alcoholic, would make me get him beers and poured into cold, salted, rammed glasses. I used to add a little urine. OP, when you gave your dad his beers, did you say, here's your beer, dad, you're in for

a treat. Our next reddit posted from Dyer Raven. So I was waiting in line at the bank. They have you line up outside, which isn't a problem. This particular day was a bit windy, which, again, wasn't a problem for me. A guy gets out of his car with a check in his hand. You see where this is going. The wind whips the check from his hand, and somehow I manage to step on the check as

a blue passed me. I wasn't really expecting a thank you, to be honest, but what I definitely wasn't expecting was the guy to chew me out for dirtying up his check. Thanks for stepping on my check, the bank probably won't accept it now. Call me a butthole, but I lifted my foot up and let it blow away in the wind down this street and said, well, they definitely won't accept it now. The guy flipped out as he was chasing the check down this street, and I got called up next in line.

Sorry, not sorry. OP, that's what you call a checkmate. Our next Reddit post is from Feudal Psycho. So I'm a photographer at a popular tourist attraction. When you come in, you get a free photo included with your ticket in front of your green screen and you can pick from several backgrounds later. A lot of people skip the photo because they don't wanna take a picture with their face mask on. It's cool if they politely continue,

but a lot of people make rude remarks and roll their eyes as if I, a 21-year-old girl made the mask mandate or something. A large group of Russian people come in. I recognize their nationality immediately because my mom is Russian and I speak it fluently. Anyways, their group isn't social distancing at all, not keeping the group in front of them any space.

They're not interested in taking a photo so they try to walk past, but my coworker and I explain that they have to wait. They start rolling their eyes and I could feel in my bones that they were saying nasty things about us. So I looked over at my coworker and said, I want ice cream in perfectly fluent Russian.

The group of Russian people looked at me as if they were about to mess their pants. This might not be the ultimate form of revenge, but knowing that they thought that I understood everything they said about me was more than enough to make me happy. Down in the comments, we have this story from Ticuron. This reminds me of working at a chicken factory. For two years, I worked with older Hispanic ladies. They'd talk about me in Spanish and call me lazy in other names. So, about two months before the plant was going to close, they're talking, and I said something to one of them in Spanish. All four of them stopped and looked at me in

horror. I just smiled and kept working. They asked if I could speak Spanish and I say, see, Parapurquito, no mouibian. That translates to, yeah, just a little, not very well. They were shocked! They knew that I'd been listening to them for two years and not saying a word. It was great, and they were much nicer after that. Our next way to post is from Greenest Fingers. I work for a large company. My workplace is set up in a large space where I work with seven to 12 other people depending on the time of day. The workplace radio is right next to my desk and even though I like music, hearing it all day

hurts my ears. One of my coworkers declared himself to be the king of the radio. Whatever he wants to listen to, that's what we listen to. Eight hours of classic rock each day, 40 hours a week gets old really fast. If anyone so much as thinks about changing the station, he'll lilding and plain and try to shame that person into submission. If you don't comply, he'll get up after a few minutes and change it back.

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investment grow tax-free. Now there really is a faster way to save for your first home with the new Questrade First Home Savings account. Learn more at Questrade.com. So, the petty revenge. I stole the remote control, and every time their silence in the music, I switched it down just a little bit. Nobody really notices as long as the change is small enough. Repeat is often as needed, and it's been blissfully quiet here for 30 minutes now. Our next Reddit post is from Tupist. A number of years ago, I was a paramedic in the UK.

At the time, there weren't many qualified paramedics. We had a food thief at the ambulance station where I worked, and he had a thing about Snickers bars. I like to keep my Snickers bar in their fridge because the caramel is chewy. It's just a texture thing. The problem was, if I left my Snickers bar in their fridge when I got a job, I could guarantee that it would be gone when I got back. So I hatched a plan. As a paramedic, I carried syringes and hypodermic needles.

I also had a bottle of 2 million Scoville hot pepper sauce in my locker. We had a good idea who the thief was, but no actual proof. But here I was, working the same shift as him. I got a Snickers bar, drew up 5 milliliters of hot pepper sauce, fitted a 14g needle, and pushed the whole 5 milliliters of hot sauce into the bar through the wrapper. I popped the Snickers bar into the fridge, and then put this range of needle away. Not long after I got a call to a job, and a way I went. A while later I came back to base, and I was met by another crew member telling

me the guy we suspected of stealing food was in the toilet being sick and he asked if I could have a look at him. When I went to the bathroom, he was crouched over the toilet, red-based, sweating, and crying. I asked what was going on, and he said that he thought that he had food poisoning. Full of mock concern, I ran some tests on him. I got his temperature, blood pressure, blood glucose, and a 12-let-ECG. Of course everything was fine, so I quizzed him on his symptoms. He had a burning sensation in his mouth, nausea, running eyes, and sweating. I said that I couldn't find anything wrong with him, but by any chance, could he have eaten

an irritant? He looked at me to see me holding the pepper sauce bottle. You could see the light come on when he realized what had happened. There was a burst of cheering from the other crewman watching as they realized what had happened. That was the last time that any food went missing. Down in the comments I'm going to read this reply from Coder Joe. It all came down to that one burning question. Beautiful.

It made me snicker. Yeah, and if this guy thought that it hurts going in, then just wait until it comes out. Our next Reddit posted from TalonCard. I run a business selling fire and EMS supplies. Since my job involves civilian education, mostly CPR training, we have quite a few civilian customers. One of them has only placed two orders with us over the past two years. The orders were for CPR training valves.

They're these little plastic pieces that go in the face mats for mouth to mouth training. They're cheap alternatives to using the actual one-way valves that come with the mask. They used to come tend to a box and just sat loose in the box. The manufacturer changed the packaging to be more hygienic. They now come in a sealed ziplock style bag in her individually wrapped. This customer placed another order with us a full year and a half after her first order. She made the order after the packaging changed and she ordered 1,600 of these valves. We don't keep that many in stocks, we have to have them dropship from the manufacturer. Two weeks after they're

delivered we get a phone call from the buyer. According to her, we sent her a completely different item and this is not what she wanted. She wanted a full refund and for us to pay for the return shipping. I asked her what's wrong with the product. She said the product came in bags and she won some in a box. I explained they don't come in a box anymore. This woman doubles down and insists that I'm cheating her. I ask why she insists on having them in a box.

She says that, with a box, she can just put them on the table and have people pick when not as they grab their other training material. Ugh, talk about Unhygienic. I explain to her that she can just take them out of the bags and put them in a shoe box or any box and it'll still accomplish the same thing. Nope, she wants them in a box and if I can't send them in a box then she wants her money back. I again explained that no manufacturer offers them in a box anymore, they all went to a more

hygienic packaging. This woman is being a complete b-word, so I do something that I never do. It's written in our return policy that the customer has to pay a 20% re-socking fee for all returns. In the 15 years that I've worked this job, I've never enforced this policy. I've also never encountered such a raging B word. Since the item wasn't effective, I told her that I wouldn't refund the shipping either, and she would have to pay for return shipping.

This crazy woman said fine, they were useless anyway. This crazy woman lost 350 bucks in shipping, had to pay another 350 bucks to ship it to me, and then lost over 400 dollars in restocking fees. In the end, it cost her almost 1200 bucks and she still has nothing to show for it. So that's my petty revenge. I then just sold off all of her return items. Alright, lady, let me run this idea past you. What if instead of wasting $1,200 on nothing, you just took, let's say, 10 of those dollars

and win and bought a couple of boxes? You know, just like a cardboard box or something. It's not like they're hard to find. That way you get a box, 1600 valves, and you get to save $1190. You stupid idiots!" Our next Reddit post is from RunBunBun. Years ago, I was browsing through a rack of shirts in a woman's discount clothing store. I was the only customer in there when I Karen walked in. I heard Karen tell the clerk that she'd come back for a size small denim

dress that she'd seen a couple of days ago. She said it buttoned down the front and head flowers embroidered around the hem. The clerk said if there were any left they'd be in the dress section. But instead of going to the dress area, Karen made a B-line for the same rack that I was looking at, standing right beside me, blocking my access to the clothes that I hadn't looked at yet. No, this was a good sized store, but she had to look at the rack that I was on. So, I moved on to the jeans. Karen followed me to the jeans, too. Again standing right beside me and reaching in front of me to grab a pair to try on. When I moved over to the dress pants, she followed, and again to jewelry. I hope I'm not in your way, I said to her sarcastically.

Oh no, you're fine, she said. Oblivious to my tone, as she reached right in front of my face and snatched a pair of earrings right off the rack in front of me. I moved to the clearance area, so naturally Karen did too. Finally, my shadow and I headed to the dresses. Suddenly, hanging on the far wall behind a short black dress, I saw an inch of denim with embroidered flowers peeking up behind it. I walked over, pulled the black dress down, and low and behold, the holy grail, the

ugly denim dress, in size small. I heard carrying gasp, and I saw her moving in toward me from the corner of my eye. When she was a mere three or four feet away, reaching towards a denim dress, I reached out and snatched it up and waltz right over to the check-out counter. She followed me and had the nerve to ask me, aren't you going to try that on? I went a bite if you don't want it. I just smiled sweetly and said that I'd take my chances since I had 60 days to return it. As I left, I could hear her whining to the clerk that she'd asked about the dress first, and it wasn't fair. She didn't even try it on!

I returned the dress to another store location across town shortly before the return period was over. Definitely petty. Maybe if you'd gone over and looked in the dress area, instead of shadowing my every move, you would have scored that ugly denim dress, Karen. So I'm looking through the comments, and some people are saying they hate it when people do that. And I'm like, what are these people talking about?

I've never heard of someone doing this before. Is this the thing that people actually do in stores? They just follow a random person and be annoying just to be annoying, I guess? Can someone please explain this to me down in the comments because this is totally alien to me. That was ArtSlash Petty Revenge, and if you like this content, you can subscribe to my podcast to unlock additional episodes.

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