Evil Revenge Stories
These people took payback to the next level after being wronged—and their evil revenge stories are brimming with chaos, karma, and pure genius.
1. Rinse And Repeat
My stepmom was evil. She put two young girls, my sister and me, on diets because we were "fat". I tolerated her because my mom was out on the road working and really needed a place for us to stay and had to leave us with my sister's father. And one day, I snapped. At 12-years-old, I had an idea to mess with my stepmom. Once a week, my stepmom used an expensive conditioning treatment on her hair.
She was 56-years-old and used anything to preserve her youth. I was at my mom’s for the weekend and snatched a bottle of liquid hair remover. When I got back, I dumped out half of her fancy conditioner and then filled the bottle with remover. After giving it a good shake, I put it back. Then I waited. She would use the treatment at the same time each week and soak in the bath for about 30 minutes.
The bottle only called for 15 minutes. She got out of the tub to take a shower. When she stepped out, almost all of her fancy permed hair was falling off her head.
2. Sense My Wrath
In high school, a guy in my grade always went out of his way to annoy me, even hooking up with my girlfriend. Wanting revenge, I decided to poop in a bottle and then let it fester for a month. It got so bad that when I unscrewed the cap, it fizzed.
I poured that into his car’s air conditioner filter on a hot summer day. I watched him get into his car and turn it on.
As soon as he did, he turned up his AC and threw up all over himself and the car.
3. Fine And Sandy
In 1992, I was in second grade. Every day at recess, my friends and I built these intricate sandcastles. When recess ended, the fourth graders came running outside after finishing their lunch.
And every single day, one of them came flying into the sandbox with the only goal of kicking down our feat of sand engineering. This happened for weeks.
So, my group of second graders and I found cinder blocks near the woods close to the playground. We stacked two and covered them with sand. After, we took the time to make the structure look like any one of our usual sandcastles. It was pretty demented—and so were the consequences. The fourth graders came out, and one ended up with a broken foot.
4. Outing Performance
In college, I lived in “The Gay House” with five other guys in a six-bedroom house. One fall afternoon, I came home from class to find my favorite roommate Josh crying in the kitchen. He had just found out something earth-shattering: His boyfriend Kevin was living a double life. They’d been dating for three months. Kevin was a nice, cute guy.
He came to our house parties and movie nights, and we all liked him enough. He told us he was closeted because his filthy rich parents would cut him off if he came out like his older brother.
Even though most of the house was fully out, we respected him and were sympathetic to his situation. We lived in the Bible Belt.
“Kevin” wasn’t even his real name. It was Brad. He was engaged to a cheerleader, and his best friends were a group of guys who had no idea he was queer.
Usually, I could have forgiven him as I’d forgiven worse, but he was needlessly cruel to Josh when he decided to break up with him. He laughed at Josh the whole time.
He said he was only using him for his body and he couldn’t stand being with his gay friends and to never call him again. That liar preyed on my friend and actually enjoyed using and hurting him. I decided then that he needed to be confronted.
As a tall guy at 6’6 and 220 pounds, I always took my size for granted.
People never tried me when I was in drag despite living in the Bible belt. I went with Josh to confront “Kevin,” but as we walked up to his apartment, it was clear that he was hosting a party, which wouldn’t have been the best time for us to confront him. But that was the moment when my stroke of evil genius kicked in.
We went back home and came up with a plan. Josh had several of “Kevin’s” naughty pictures as well as his clothes.
While one roommate was photocopying the pictures, another was creating a website with a giant humiliating picture of him and was printing out “invitations” to the site. I was dressing in drag and got ready.
I wore an old prom dress with blue sequins that were falling off. It cut off right below my underwear, making the whole outfit especially naughty.
The ratty blonde wig was from an old costume, and I had six-inch heels size 16 that I found at a sketchy-looking store a few weeks before. I painted myself with way too much makeup but kept my stubble and my leg hair.
We stuffed his clothes, the invitations, and the printed pictures into a large purse, and I went off for the party. But I made one stop at the store to buy a $20 fake engagement ring. I think I deserve an Oscar for my performance that night. His face looked priceless as a seven-foot drag queen barged into his apartment screaming and crying.
The whole place froze as I stormed past everyone into the kitchen to find him and his fiancé. They were by the back door staring in utter shock. I was sure he didn’t recognize me. I sobbed and begged him to come back to me.
I described everything I loved about him including all his marks near his junk. My make-up smeared tears turned angry as I started detailing all his secret kinks.
Then finally, his fiancé started questioning me. At that point, I pulled his clothes out of the purse and threw them at him. She immediately recognized them.
Then I pulled out the pictures and handed them to her before I burst into uncontrollable sobbing and stormed out of the kitchen and through the living room partiers and toward the front door.
At the door, I stopped, took a long swig from the bottle I brought, and threw a giant stack of "party" invitations all over the place. They had the worst picture of all—him making the "sexy face," wearing the most scandalous undergarments. The invitation was to some weird website my roommate created to out "Kevin". The site included a forum for other people to share ways he lied to them and discuss how much they hated him. Before I left, I did a dramatic final spin.
I then removed and held up the fake ring for everyone to see. I pointed to the other side of the apartment at his fiancé and said, “I see he gave you one of these too!” I threw it on the yard, stormed out, and went home.
Later, the roommates made sure to put a website invitation on every car in his apartment complex. Nobody in the gay community saw or heard from that guy again.
Though there were several rumors including one that said he transferred to a shittier school far away.
