We all had bullies when we were younger. Those awful kids who called us names, laughed at our clothes, and generally made our lives a living nightmare. We don't often get to have our revenge, but occasionally, some of us do. These Redditors tell the stories of when they were able to get back at their childhood bullies. We warn you now, these are extremely satisfying to read. Content has been edited for clarity.
“Back when I was in middle school, there was this boy that lived across the street from me. Our parents were close friends, so this led to us babysitting him and vice versa a lot. Whenever he would be at my house, he would be a little brat and break something then run to tell my parents that I broke it. Naturally, my parents believed him. He did a lot more of things to get me in trouble, but this is what he did most frequently. One day, when they were babysitting me, I got the idea of taking some of these little lawn gnomes that I found at a flea market and putting them in his closet, under his bed, in the shower, etc… wherever I he would frequently go. Then the next time I saw him, he would tell me how he kept finding them everywhere and when he would give them to his parents, they would just say he was doing it for attention. Each time he found one, I would find a new hiding spot for it.
Then one night, when I was sleeping over because my parents were going to be out really late and wanted me to go sleep earlier, I had a plan. Since I had already been torturing him for about six months with the gnomes, I gathered many from my adventures around the local flea market. Once he fell asleep, I quietly entered his room and put all the gnomes I had around him. There were dozens of them in his bed, all lined around him and by his face. The next morning, I am woken by the loudest and most blood-curdling scream I ever heard. I run in there to see what happened as a result of the gnomes, and he is sitting in the fetal position wrapped in his blankets repeating ‘No more gnomes. No more gnomes.’ When his parents got in there, they finally believed all he said about the gnomes, while I sat there trying to hold back my laughter.
Fast-forward to when we were in high school. Since I stopped hiding the gnomes a few years back, I was wondering if he was still frightened by them, so I grabbed a few of them and headed into school. During our first class of the today, I excused myself and opened up his locker (very easy to break into all you had to do was jiggle it a little) and on the shelf that was at eye level and placed them in a line on the shelf. Then after first block, I am walking to my next class and I see him bolting from his locker to the nearest bathroom. He was sobbing for the next half hour until a teacher could convince him to come out and talk about it. He didn’t come to school for the rest of the week.
Looking back, I may have gone a little too far, but he tortured me for years before and after I started with the gnomes.”
Strike For Respect
“In fourth grade, I was really into paper plane making. I even bought this book of all the world record holding paper planes and would read it every day. I had just moved to America and wore very tacky clothing, so I was made fun of a lot.
One day, I copied the design of the paper plane that had the record for longest time in the air (13.2 seconds or something) and threw it around the playground. It was in the air for 12 seconds! As I rushed to pick it up though, this awful 5th grader came out and stepped on it. Now, I was a tiny brown Indian kid, and he was a big hockey playing 5th grader, but the anger took over me. I punched him in the face, he bled, and I ran away thinking I was in trouble.
He never mentioned it to anyone though and was always nice to me throughout middle school and high school.”
“When I was in high school, I had a friend who was a grade higher than me. We lived down the block from each other. One day at school, I saw him in the hallway and asked him a question about soccer, which we both played. He looked at me and said, ‘Do I know you?’ and walked off. I blew it off and when I got home went over to his house to talk to him about it. He said, ‘Sorry, but you are a junior, and I am a Senior. I have standards.’ I hated him for this comment.
I spent a good two months hashing out my plan for revenge. I figured out that his mom and dad love their lawn and manicure it every two to three days. I found out his only child insecurity. He hated lawn work. One Friday night, I found a deli that made fresh dough for bagels. They throw out the rest of the dough from the bagels at the end of the night. At midnight, I grabbed a trash bag of this dough and headed to my ‘friends’ house. For the next 5 minutes, I threw little chunks of dough all over his lawn. By the way, this was in the full summer heat in the southern US.
The next day when the sun rose, those little nuggets of dough started to rise like hybrid mushrooms all over his lawn, and they stuck to the lawn like concrete. His mother and father came out to go to work and was horrified. They blamed their son and his senior classmates for it, and he spent the entire weekend scrapping that dough up.”
Like Having A Super Power
“I’m immune to poison ivy, so I was always uprooting it in our yard (about a full acre). I’d left it on this concrete area behind our garage (because it was near when I pulled it out – I was/am lazy). Anyway, I frequently walked down to a fishing pond across this canal in my neighborhood (this is in south Louisiana). I didn’t always have a functioning bike and the walk was only about a mile.
A ‘big kid,’ probably 2-3 years older than me, was a real prick. He’d do stuff like ride by me on his bike and act like he was gonna high-five me, but then slap my face and ride off laughing. Anyway, one day he did that, and I went back home upset. I got my water soaker and was going to shoot him if he messed with me again. Then I saw the poison ivy and got an evil idea. In the bucket it went with some water, stirred it all up good, dumped that in my water soaker, and went back to the pond. On the way back home, he came around messing with me again. I hosed him down and he broke my soaker, but man it was worth it.
From what I hear, he didn’t go back to school for almost two weeks.”
That Has Got To Stink
“At an all male military boarding school during high school, there was this HUGE prick on my hall. We took his Febreze bottle and filled it with pee. Then took said bottle and sprayed his pillow, wall locker and opposite corner.
He gets back, smells urine, and immediately grabs his Febreze and douses EVERYTHING again. Suck it, Donovan.”
They Are Still Friends
“I had a friend in high school who became a prick during our senior year. There were a bunch of little things that added up to our friendship falling apart, but at the worst of it, I pooped on his car one night.
Real simple, I just crawled up on the hood of his car and took a giant dump on his windshield. I just knew that he’d walk outside the next day and think, ‘What on earth is this?’
Fun fact: we’re actually great friends again now. He still has no idea it was me.”
He Was Not A Friend
“My so-called ‘best friend’ in primary school stole my shiny Pokemon cards.
I was only 6 or so at the time, but that didn’t stop me from being a sadistic little first grader, and having older brothers. Well, let’s just say I knew how things worked.
Guess who found out the truth about Santa, the tooth fairy, AND the power rangers all at once?
Don’t mess with 6 year old me.”
“I was being bullied by this kid two years older than me in school, but I didn’t want to tell the teachers or my parents because I wanted to handle it myself. Anyway, he wasn’t hitting me or anything, he was just verbally harassing me during the day. But hey, I was fine with that, I had plenty of friends to chill out with, and he was a lonely bully.
So we have to write a Physics exam, and we all have those graphical calculators. You can write programs in them and archive them so a RAM reset can’t delete the programs, only a defaults reset can. Right before the exam, he came to me and told me to give him all the ‘cheat’ programs I had. Well, what he did not know is that I prepared one with wrong formulas for that prick. When I transferred the program over to his calculator, I had a huge smile on my face. He got a 6 for that exam, which is equivalent to an F.
Sweet, sweet revenge.”
“When I was around 13/14, I used to hang out with my 21-year-old neighbors. I didn’t realize at the time that all these guys would do is convince me to do stupid stuff, then run away when I got in trouble. This continued until I was about 17 when I finally realized what was going on. I was furious and wanted revenge, but by the time I thought up a plan, these guys had moved. I decided I would make my move anyways.
These guys were serious stoners and always had parties. I went to a party once and chilled in the back. In my car, I had 5 cartons of heavy whipping cream that I had purchased 6 months prior (I left them in the fridge until that day). I took each carton and poured one in each of the air vents. I had one carton left over, so I poured it into the A/C unit (not sure if it did anything). The smell coming from the cartons was so rancid and disgusting I had to stop myself from barfing a few times. A few weeks later, the house was up for sale, no one would buy it because of the smell though (or, so I heard). They gave up on selling it and tried burning it down.
After an investigation the oldest brother was arrested for fraud and served one year in prison. I haven’t heard anything about them since.”
“I went to school with someone who was a real prick. He bullied me a substantial amount and eventually I got fed up with it.
One day when we were in the library, I saw him log on. As he went to access his emails, I snuck a look at the keyboard and noticed his password. Lo and behold, the idiot used his name and a number and that was it.
Cue creeper time: when I went home, I had a quick look through his emails. I noticed a rather interesting discussion between himself and a friend of his. To cut a long story short, his mother had convinced Centrelink (unemployment benefits in Australia) that he had a learning disability in order to claim more money.
I forward this email archive along with his password to Centrelink. They probably couldn’t directly access his email account due to red tape, however, I think someone must have done it off the books. A few weeks later at school, I hear that ‘Bob’s’ family was getting taken to court and being forced to pay back all the excess money that was claimed under false circumstances.
I don’t know how it ended up as I graduated before the case was settled, but I know they had to pay back several thousand dollars at the least.”
Hit And Run
“Before my senior year of high school, I was very religious and tried to make Christian friends my age, so I joined a congregation in my town and got involved with the youth. Being summer, they had a camp in Louisiana they’d visit, so I went with them as a first-timer. Now, this camp and most of the people were white. I believe that I was the only Hispanic guy aside from two others, so I had a hard time fitting in, especially since I was new to church and all. There was one particular kid they nicknamed ‘Milky’ because he was very pale. Immediately, I didn’t particularly like him. He was loud and annoying.
Towards the end of the week-long event, I was sitting in a stall in the community bathroom. While sitting, I could hear Milky acting the fool and throwing things around. One of those things flew into my stall and hit me on the head. I was angry. When I got out, I asked the other guys who did that. They said Milky had and was bragging about it to other kids. I was pretty annoyed, so I asked the others to call him back in and I prepared my ambush. I poured various lotions and shampoos into my palm to simulate man juice and hid in the community showers.
As Milky walked in, the others asked him about how good he got me and I could hear him boasting his little victory. Once I did, I ran out of the showers and slapped him on the right cheek with my wet palm. It was a loud, wet slap too. Silence. He turned, disgusted and confused, to me and touches his creamy cheek. I laughed and made the motion of jerking off. His faced turned to horror, and he ran out, crying at his realization. Everyone laughed and chanted, ‘Milky got milked on!’ I went to bed happy that night, knowing I caused him an uncomfortable night. What I later found out the next morning is that he spent the entire night in his cabin and in the shower, washing his face. Guys said he even went as far as using bleach. Needless to say, I never went back after that.”
“I have Cerebral Palsy and, as a result, I was picked on during grade school. During the time I was in kindergarten through 6th grade, I was forced to change schools three times because of kids pushing me into walls, beating me up, and generally bulling. I had to use a walker during this time to get around.
Last school I changed to, I was in 5th grade and there was this kid that gave me grief every day. He was easily a 200lb prick. My third day there, he pushed me down stairs that led into the gymnasium. I went to the ER with a dislocated shoulder.
Fast-forward 3 months later: this 200lb prick is standing next to the boys’ bathroom door talking to his buddies and said something to the effect of ‘I would never had a girlfriend because I walked like a duck.’ Well it made me mad, and I was never a violent kid nor am I violent today. I snapped that day though. I got as close as I could before he turned around and noticed it was me. Without saying a word, I swung my walker like a baseball bat that connected with his nose. To make matters worse, since I had poor balance, I was falling into him at the same time. As we are falling towards the bathroom door, some kid comes out of the bathroom and causes the door knob to catch him in the back of the head/neck. Come to find out it cracked vertebrae in his neck and paralyzed his right arm and hand.
After that day, I didn’t get picked on anymore. Kids did call me a crazy duck though.”
A Different Type Of Revenge
“When I was in middle school/high school, there was this guy in my friendship group who always teased me about being overweight, like maliciously. It didn’t stop there. As we grew up, he started like having gatherings purposefully not to invite me. He also tried to steal my stuff when I’d have him around with my friends, not to mention threatening to beat me up when we were alone together. The guy was a prick, but at the time I felt I had to stay civil and be ‘friends’ with him because I was afraid of losing friends I actually cared about.
Anyway, skip forward to when we are 16 – by then we’ve all realized how much of a prick this guy was being and decided not to hang with him anymore. I’d also lost a LOT of weight, so he couldn’t taunt me about that anymore. That’s okay, he found other people to pick on. He also developed epilepsy. We weren’t sure if it was genuine or not because at the time there were a lot of people faking illnesses by ‘fainting’ and having ‘fits’ so we thought he was jumping on board this trend.
One day, after school he pops up on messenger to me typing things like ‘hlfp meegy.’ Initially, I thought he was just fishing for attention, but after about five minutes I figured something serious was happening. So I ran to his house (it was about a 10-minute walk from mine), looked through the window and saw he was home alone and on the floor sort of twitching. I eventually got in through his back door which was unlocked. I put a pillow down to rest head and moved what furniture I could out the way, so he wouldn’t hurt himself. I called emergency services and then his parents who were out shopping at the time, who rushed home.
Once he came to, his parents explained what had happened, and he looked at me. That look man, it was like he knew what he did to me through school and to see what I did for him brought him right to his senses. That was pure guilt. I left without speaking to him, but that look was good enough for me. He truly felt bad for what he did.
It’s not your conventional revenge story I guess, but the fact I made him feel so bad and regret those years effectively bullying me was worth it.”
Not Sorry About That
“One of the kids in my brother’s special ed area informed me that some kids had been picking on some of the more severely disabled kids. That part of the school had a huge range of kids and disability– this one was normal but had some serious learning problems.
So, I just went there and followed my brother. Some little sophomore pushed him down and called him names and spat on him.
I sucker punched him and kicked his ribs in. It worked well. He wore the black eye for a good two weeks and it was still visible after that. And his ribs had to be wrapped for a while too I believe.
I got suspended for a week. The principal asked me to apologize and it offended my dad and I both. I might have gotten less. It was a school in a really nice neighborhood and fights were extremely uncommon, so a lot of people wanted me expelled, but the principal has a disabled kid, and he was kinda on my side.
My dad bought me a new video game and gave me $100 to enjoy my week off school. I knew that this was my duty, and he was happy that I did it.”
She Was Out Of The Light
“Not personal revenge but revenge on my wife’s behalf. I worked for the BBC. I controlled the lighting on a music program ‘Top of The Pops.’
They replaced a dance troop with a new lot.
One of them went to school with my girlfriend, now wife, she told me of her bullying and arrogance and how she made her and few others life a bit miserable. I didn’t care though, quite a few performers can be a bit diva-ish.
I went to the same school and never noticed it, but being a studious kid I never hung with the in-crowd.
When I got to the studio, that changed. The dancer recognized me and, thinking I was an audience member, said something along the lines of ‘Hi there, fancy seeing you here. I’m performing here, you know. I might get you into the green room later, you can collect autographs.’
That’s not a bad thing to say, but it was said with was a certain tone of voice and twist of her lip that irritated me.
When their spot came along, I dimmed the spotlight on her to make sure the camera never paused on her. I did it the week later too. There wasn’t another chance, as that dancer was let go. The camera didn’t like her.
I feel bad about occasionally it, but there it is. I’ve done many acts of kindness since.”
“Okay, so it all started in my freshman year of high school. As many of us know this is a time of insecurity and apprehension for boys at this age. Well, what was I insecure about, you might ask? I was very insecure about my height. In my freshman year of high school, I stood at 6 foot 11 inches, making me the tallest kid in the school by a solid 5 inches. Keep in mind that I was a freshman. Well, I didn’t like being tall. It made me stick out, and everyone wanted me to play basketball. Well, I wanted neither of these things. I just wanted to be a normal kid, not some tall freak (my thoughts at the time). So naturally, when I started getting harassed and called names by a kid two grades below me, I wasn’t very happy. I knew that I was getting singled out because of my size, and ultimately, my size made it impossible for me to physically retaliate unless he hit first. So anyway, one day I was just in a bad mood.
I’d been fighting with my mom earlier that day about grades and everyone just seemed to be particularly terrible. Well, fourth bell rolls around and this kid starts verbally assaulting me, up in my face wherever I went, calling me all sorts of foul names. I was shaking with anger– all I could do was clench my fists at my side and take the abuse. I was in a truly terrible situation. But then, this bully, this kid who loved tormenting other people, made a very unwise decision. I anticipated that he would say it one day, he just happened to do it on a day when I was REALLY not taking any grief.
This kid looks up at me, and says ‘Hey freak, how’s the weather up there?’ Without a second of thought, I proceeded to inhale hard through my nose, bringing every bit of mucus down in to my mouth. I then proceeded to bend down to his level, spat on his head, and said ‘it’s raining, prick.’ Every person in that hallway saw me do it, and every person was laughing at my tormentor’s misfortune. Ironically, he told on me and wound up getting me into trouble. My punishment? A 20-minute detention, administered by the chuckling assistant principal. Because I stood up to this bully, I gained school-wide fame. Oh, and he also stopped bullying me.”
“When I was 9, I was in an after school program and there was this little prick, Darius, who bullied just about everybody. Oh, I hated Darius so much. One day, the after school program takes us all to Shenandoah National Park and I sit behind little prick Darius on the bus. He made the huge mistake of bringing his binder full of Pokémon cards and placing them on the ground. The binder slides behind his seat and in front of me, I open it up and snatch his holograph Chancy card. A girl, who never really liked me, saw me do it and gave me a thumbs up. Well, I slide it back under his seat and when we get there, I make sure nobody sees me go to the Port-o-potty where I drop it.
Now, I LOVED Pokémon cards and didn’t have a holograph Chancy, so I could have kept it for myself, but I didn’t want him to have any sense of hope of retrieving it. I wanted him to lose all hope when he saw his rarest card resting on a bed of poop.
About 30 minutes after we got there, he noticed the card missing, so he and his little posse go looking for it. They eventually discover its location and one of them starts blaming me. So they all pick on me, but I start crying and saying that I didn’t do it. Luckily, the counselors believed me and they told the guys to leave me alone. Man, I was so satisfied that day.
That’s what you get for calling me a fat pig, Darius!”
Best Throw Ever
“This dude used to pick on me relentlessly in gym class, as bullies tend to do to nerds. I was catching some usual grief this one particular day, but only as we were walking out to go back to class did I snap. He grabbed my hat (just a baseball hat, nothing particularly special about it) and I decided that was the last straw. I started chasing him around the gym, but me being a nerd and him being a jock, I realized this plan was futile. He was making his way toward the two exit doors and if he escaped, I knew I’d never see that hat again. All I had was my book bag on my back.
So, I stopped, sized him up, and slid the book bag across the freshly waxed basketball court. Just as his hand is about to push the door open, the bag slides perfectly underneath his plant foot, and he wipes out, smashing his face into the door at top speed. He crumpled to the floor in a bloody heap and cried like a baby. As I walked by, I put my bag back in my shoulder, took my hat out of hands, and stepped calmly over his twitching body.
I never got in trouble (the teachers knew he had it coming) and he never said another word to me.”
He Assaulted You
“I was passed out one night, very hammered, and one of my roommates thought it would be a funny idea to heat up a knife and brand me in two spots. I didn’t wake up (because of the level of wasted I was), but I woke up to two large burns on my legs and I was furious. I would have been more annoyed if I knew he wasn’t nearly as hammered as I was.
I try to forgive. All I wanted was an apology, and he said that he was not sorry. Well, time for revenge.
He had recently gotten a dog about six months prior and it was his responsibility. At the time, we had an empty room in the upstairs. I decided to take multiple massive poops on the carpet of the room, and told him that the dog had done it. I got to stand there and watch him clean up my poop. Kind of gross, but man it was funny.”
That Is Ingenious
“I remember in Kindergarten during free time, I always played with the play-doh and made small cars and snowmen. Anyway, I had a bully named Colin. He and his friends would always smash my creations by getting my attention and smashing it with their hands. I cried and went to the teacher, but they would always play it off as an accident. One day I decided to stick a toothpick upright in a tree I made and next thing you know, the toothpick was stuck in Colin’s hand. I was sent to principal’s office and changed classrooms. Worth it.”