When our landlord hiked our rent by $650, it was the last straw. Living in a rundown apartment with a broken fridge and constant harassment pushed us to the edge. Determined to get revenge, we concocted a clever plan to make him regret his greed and teach him an unforgettable lesson.
Dennis here. Let me tell you about the time my wife, Amber, and I dealt with the landlord from hell while saving for our dream house. It’s been a rollercoaster, but we learned a lot along the way
So, picture this: Amber and I moved into this tiny, run-down apartment a little over a year ago.
We were pinching pennies, trying to save up for a place of our own. The apartment was our stepping stone. Small, but we made it work. Amber decorated the place with some second-hand finds and DIY projects. I swear, she can make anything look good.
The trouble started right from the get-go.
We met our landlord, Mr. Williams, during the lease signing. Now, this guy looked like he had stepped right out of a 1980s corporate villain movie. Slicked-back hair, smug smile, and a suit that screamed “I have power, and I love it.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Williams,” Amber said, ever the polite one.
“Likewise,” he replied, barely looking up from the paperwork. “Let’s get this done quickly. I have other matters to attend to.”
We went through the motions, signing here and there. And then, like an idiot, I mentioned my income.
Amber and I brainstormed over a couple of beers one night, sketching out ideas on a napkin. We needed something that would hit Mr. Williams where it hurt but couldn’t be traced back to us.
Then it hit us—smells. Horrible, pervasive, can’t-get-rid-of-them smells.
“Alright,” I said, leaning back with a grin. “We need tuna, rotten eggs, milk, and dead mice.”
Amber chuckled. “This is going to be epic.”
We removed the tuna, cleaned out the rotten eggs, scrubbed the milk stains, and disposed of the dead mice. The smell finally began to dissipate.
“Good riddance,” Amber said, wiping her hands. “I hope he learned his lesson.”
And there you have it. The story of how we turned the tables on our greedy landlord and got the justice we deserved. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, remember: a little creativity and a lot of determination can go a long way!
My Ех Ruinеd My Dаy аt Wоrk, I Вrilliаntly Тооk Rеvеngе оn Нim thе Sаmе Dаy — Stоry оf thе Dаy
So, my boyfriend kicked me out after I caught him with another woman right on our kitchen table. The very next day, he showed up at my job with her! (I’m a waitress)
Me: “Colin, haven’t you hurt me enough already? Why are you here?”
Him: “Well, you can’t serve me at home anymore, so you’ll serve me here.”
His girl: “Hurry up and get me a menu, or you’re gonna lose more than just your house — you’ll lose this job too!”
I couldn’t afford to lose my job, so I had to serve them… it was a TOTAL DISASTER! They were purposely making a mess… He dropped his fork so I would kneel in front of him. At one point, his new girl even “accidentally” spilled her soup on me! They were laughing their heads off while I was crying under the bar counter.
But then, our chef saw me, wiped my tears, and told me he had this brilliant plan to get back at them. It was pretty simple but so genius! I immediately began to put it into action.
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