Your Revenge Stories
We want to hear your tales of revenge. From sewing prawns in your lovers curtains to advertising your bosses job in the newspaper. What have you done? Confess! Confess now!
( , Fri 14 May 2004, 1:02)
We want to hear your tales of revenge. From sewing prawns in your lovers curtains to advertising your bosses job in the newspaper. What have you done? Confess! Confess now!
( , Fri 14 May 2004, 1:02)
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Another uni story
In our halls of residence we had this ridiculously anally retentive senior student we nicknamed Velcro because of his velcro shoes (crap nickname, but this isn't the best nicknames question). Anyway wheras all the other senior students were sensible (ie have parties if you want just don't wake me up, keep drinking after 11 as long as I can't see your pint if I don't look too hard) this guy followed the letter of the law exactly, snatching pints out of your hand at 11:01 and prowling other people's corridors to check for the vaguest hint of noise. You know the really geeky, annoying suck-up guys who cause trouble for the cool kids in crappy American college flicks? That was Velcro.
So, to cut a very long story long Velcro's next door neighbour was a skateboarder who was prone to using the corridors as a practice circuit. The result was 3 none-too-cheap skateboards being confiscated. Naturally he wasn't a member of the Velcro fanclub. So when Velcro left his key in the common room he immediately grabbed it, legged it out of halls to the nearest locksmith, got a copy cut and then handed it into lost property. He had this key for a couple of months until divine inspiration struck. All he had to do was wait until Velcro was out, grab a few people who also hated him (not too hard a task) and revenge was afoot...
One day Velcro comes back from a tiring day of royally pissing everyone off in the Student Union Council, opens his door to his room and finds... nothing. Not a stitch of furniture bar the sink and shelves on the wall. Naturally he freaks out and runs to the porter to get them to call the police. He then proceeds to interrorgate everyone on his corridor ("nope, didn't see a thing, honest") before nature called and so he headed to the large communal toilets. Where he found his room. Laid out exactly as it had been: desk next to bed, lamp on the bedside table (though not plugged in, obviously), posters of S-Club 7 on the wall, everything. For the next couple of months he was on the receiving end of numerous cracks about his new "en-suite" room.
Sorry about the length (not the first time I've said that)
( , Fri 14 May 2004, 12:43, Reply)
In our halls of residence we had this ridiculously anally retentive senior student we nicknamed Velcro because of his velcro shoes (crap nickname, but this isn't the best nicknames question). Anyway wheras all the other senior students were sensible (ie have parties if you want just don't wake me up, keep drinking after 11 as long as I can't see your pint if I don't look too hard) this guy followed the letter of the law exactly, snatching pints out of your hand at 11:01 and prowling other people's corridors to check for the vaguest hint of noise. You know the really geeky, annoying suck-up guys who cause trouble for the cool kids in crappy American college flicks? That was Velcro.
So, to cut a very long story long Velcro's next door neighbour was a skateboarder who was prone to using the corridors as a practice circuit. The result was 3 none-too-cheap skateboards being confiscated. Naturally he wasn't a member of the Velcro fanclub. So when Velcro left his key in the common room he immediately grabbed it, legged it out of halls to the nearest locksmith, got a copy cut and then handed it into lost property. He had this key for a couple of months until divine inspiration struck. All he had to do was wait until Velcro was out, grab a few people who also hated him (not too hard a task) and revenge was afoot...
One day Velcro comes back from a tiring day of royally pissing everyone off in the Student Union Council, opens his door to his room and finds... nothing. Not a stitch of furniture bar the sink and shelves on the wall. Naturally he freaks out and runs to the porter to get them to call the police. He then proceeds to interrorgate everyone on his corridor ("nope, didn't see a thing, honest") before nature called and so he headed to the large communal toilets. Where he found his room. Laid out exactly as it had been: desk next to bed, lamp on the bedside table (though not plugged in, obviously), posters of S-Club 7 on the wall, everything. For the next couple of months he was on the receiving end of numerous cracks about his new "en-suite" room.
Sorry about the length (not the first time I've said that)
( , Fri 14 May 2004, 12:43, Reply)
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