Growing up, we had nothing but time on our hands. For the most part, that time was spent hanging out with friends, playing games, or sleeping, but that's not always the case. Whenever someone would mess with us, hurt us, or just annoy us, we sometimes took extreme lengths to get back at them and make them pay for what they did.
A Reddit thread recently asked people to share the best petty revenge they got as a child, and these kids were certifiable psychopaths growing up. I mean, the stuff these kids did to get back at someone is beyond shocking. Take a look at some of the most ridiculous stories from the bunch and let us know if you think they top any of your own stories. All posts have edited for clarity.
"When I was about 8 or 9, I lived in a very wealthy town. My family was not wealthy. We lived in an apartment, the majority of other kids lived in houses. We weren't poor, but I used to get made fun of for being poor (I guess that's poor in a kid's mind).
There was one girl who was pretty relentless. She was adopted and lived in a fairly nice house, not a mansion by any means, but a house and certainly bigger than my apartment. She used to say pretty awful things to me which would send me home in tears. One day, my dad told me to just stand up to her.
The next afternoon on the way home from school she was really laying in to me. Right before her bus stop she came out with the line, 'Your parents don't even love you enough to have a real house for you to live in.'
Knowing full well she was adopted, I looked her right in the eye and said, 'Maybe not, but at least they loved me enough to keep me.'
I've never seen someone burst into tears that fast in all my life. She ran off the bus crying.
It's been 25 years and I still feel guilty for saying it. But she never, ever said anything mean to me again."
"I had a neighbor who was homeschooled. He was really mean and would come into my yard everyday, play with my toys while I was off at school, and usually break them on purpose. When I'd get home to play with my toys, he'd actually stare at me out his kitchen window laughing and yell, 'HAVE FUN PLAYIN' WITH THOSE!'
Creepy stuff, huh?
Anyway, I told my parents and they said that I needed to handle things on my own. I was only in the fourth or fifth grade, so I was totally lost. I was running out to the school bus the next day and I slipped on a pile of dog poo on my front lawn that my dog had laid out the night prior, and the idea came to me.
That night before bed, I took the garbage outside to the garage for my parents and went around scooping up my dog's crap with a shovel and smearing it all over my swings, slide, bicycle seat, football, and basketball. The next day when my neighbor went to play with my stuff (half of which he had already damaged in some way), he was covered in feces. I still remember coming home and hearing him yell at me from his kitchen window about sliding down the slide on my swing-set and getting covered in dog dung. It was the highlight of my year.
Unfortunately, I had to wait for a rainstorm to wash away all the crap before I could use the swing set again."
"We were kids staying at the seaside on vacation with our family. My little sister would always make a pretty sandcastle, and the next day it would have been kicked down and she'd cry.
We wanted to find out who was doing it, so one day we stayed behind to spy. We watched as a bunch of jerk older boys came by and kicked her castle down, laughing smugly.
So the next night, we covered a big beach rock in sand and decorated it. Like clockwork, the jerk kids came with their smug faces and this time kicked a solid rock with all of their might. The yowl and the look on their faces was the best revenge ever."
"When I was a wee lass of about 7 or 8 (it was second grade) there was this rotten little girl, we'll call her Brenda. She used to make fun of me, calling me a boy because I used to actually play with boys unlike most girls that age. She'd also make fun of my last name. Well, I found out that during recess every day she would just hang out by the door and when recess was over, she would immediately be the line leader. Being line leader was so precious to her for whatever reason.
One day at recess, she was hanging out by the door as usual. This time, however, I decided to also hang around by the door, not close enough to her that she'd see me but close enough that I'd get the jump when the whistle blew. Well, the whistle blew to bring us back inside and I sprinted like a madwoman to the designated line-up spot. Brenda was making a casual stroll to the line, and when she was about to take her spot, I pushed her out of the way.
The night before, it rained, and several puddles had accumulated on the blacktop. So when I pushed her, she fell face first into the largest, ickiest puddle I'd seen to that day. By some stroke of luck, the lunch monitor lady had not seen this event occur, and when the lunch monitor saw Brenda, she merely broke into tears and didn't say a word about how I had pushed her, claiming that she just 'fell' into the puddle. While the lunch monitor helped take her to the nurse, Brenda looked at me. I flashed her the biggest grin I have flashed in my life.
Even to this day, I have never flashed a bigger grin. Brenda never gave me crap for the rest of school."
"When I was 11 or so, I would often swim and play at the community pool with my cousins during the summer.
We spent a lot of time and played with each other. It was the last day of summer, and I wanted to make the day special by playing at the adult (deep) pool and jumping off the high-dive. To do so, you had to be 13 years old, and neither me, nor my cousin were close to that age. We got there and passed the swimming tests, and they asked us what our ages were. He said 13, and right before I was about to say that I was 13, my cousin said that I was not old enough.
Shocked, I had to either play alone in the other pool, or watch my cousin enjoy something he had lied for that I should be enjoying. He played for hours in the adult pool, but had yet to jump off the high-dive, due to his fear of heights. But with encouragement from everyone in my family except me along with the fact that today was the last day of summer, he decided that he would like to jump off the high-dive. He made his way there, climbed up, but hesitated to jump. He thought about for a while, and finally decided that he wanted to step down. But just before he had stopped to go down, his fear got the better of him and he started to panic. Our moms both agreed that I should go up to help him come down. So, I climbed up and asked him, 'You want to come down?'
I then walked up to him and acted like we were about to go down, but in a Lion King-esque moment, I shoved him off the high-dive. He came out of the water, as everyone at the pool besides me was pretty shaken-up. We went home after that, and I do not regret a single thing."