Punishments and revenge tactics.

#1
Someone has royally pissed you off and you would like to give them 'a piece of your mind'

Just what devious way could you come up with to exact your revenge?

Experiences of yours or others retribution stories most welcome.

GO
 
#2
Once, Private Pyle got us all punished by the drill sergeant, so we tied him to the bed, put bars of soap in our socks and smacked the fuck out of him.

Not sure if that really happened or if it's a scene from Full Metal Jacket, though.
 
#3
I would wait until they and their spouse had left their children alone in a holiday apartment for an evening of tapas and pissing-up, and steal their eldest child.
 
#5
Spend 14 years in prison on a remote island off the coast of France, learning philosophy, economics and sword-fighting from an elderly man of the cloth. Break out, leaving the priest to die in a collapsed tunnel and spend a couple of years engaging in piracy and sodomy with a group of Spaniards. Leave to locate the enormous fortune that the wise but regrettably dead priest went to prison to protect and spend the entirety of it buying a title and palace. Then slowly but surely use your wealth and influence to destroy your enemy, then eventually stab him with a sword and reclaim your faithless ex-fiance and illegitimate son.

Any similarities to the works of Alexandre Dumas are purely coincidental.

LB
 

Grumblegrunt

LE
Book Reviewer
#6
some monkey threw a brick at our conservatory when she was in there as they assumed it was her making the noise instead of the obvious party down the street. police didnt want to know so I waited a bit then v'early april 1 went around to his house and siliconed and screwed his entire ground floor doors and windows shut.

one real idiot couldnt understand leave it so we turned his gas and leccy off at the boxes, poured a litre of petrol through his letter box and a box of matches in a placcy bag.

is that the kind of thing you wanted :)
 
#7
During basic (RAF), there was a lad who thought he was the king ding. He was a complete twat but thought he could muscle his way to the top of the tree by bullying everyone. It was a gradual thing that got worse but most were just wanting to keep out of it and keep their heads down, some of us were going to take him down in a spectacular fashion.

Come the night before day 17 inspection, evryone is busy bulling away but not Pri****. He 'ordered' the rest of us to sort out his kit while he went off with one of the gullible WAAF's for a game of hide the sausage.

Kit prep!

All his trousers ironed navy style (the 7 creases thing) plenty of starch used and nice hot iron marks all over the shop.
Boots bulled with wet and dry sandpaper (I supplied it thinking we had the old brass belt buckles where you had to get the copper off, turned out they were the staybright jobbies)
Beret reshaped to the left (french style) with the aid of a hairdryer we borrowed from one of the girls. End ironed for extra allyness.
Belt shortened permanently to anorexic proportions.
DMS service shoes soaked in hot water and thrown in the tumble dryer
Bed pack trampled all over by the block and reassembled, complete with footprints.
Top 3 buttons removed from every shirt.
Growbag swapped for a buckshee one for a midget of 5ft4 (aided by a very helpful corporal) The twat was 6ft3
Shaving foam emptied into his socks and boxers in his civy locker, dried out on the radiators.

The Fight OC and Sgt were not best pleased come kit inspection the next morning.
The Cpl mustered all his strength to keep a straight face, he was in on it as was an ex Para who was our senior recruit.
The Cpl was a sound bloke for a shiny arse.

Anyways, The cunt could not defend how his kit came to be in such a state to the OC as it should have been his own responsibility
The Cpl must have given the rest of the flight staff a de-brief because we all got a free night and a slap on the back for 'teamwork' afterwards

The cunt ended up on the biff flight and never to be seen again
 

udipur

LE
Book Reviewer
#8
We had a bloke at Sandhurst who even answered to the name of 'Jack', such was the frequency with which we used it to address him.

Suffice to say, he was really pleased when a 'regimental interview' came up and he had to skip out of the lines whilst we were all on weapon cleaning. Cheerily gave his weapon to his neighbour and asked him to clean it. "Sure" came the reply.

Chap wot cleaned it not short of planning skills. Worked out next time weapon would be needed and proceeded to clean. Just to make sure that things stayed pristine, absolutely slathered the bugger in oil, on every bit of metal, inside and out, that he could find. Storeman took weapon by handle, none the wiser and placed in rack.

Next day, we all rushed over to get our weapons, Jack picked his up, again handled by the storeman on the grip so leaving him little choice to grab some parts which were metal.

What a shame that we were being inspected in gloves, white, fluffy and remarkably absorbent, not meant to look slightly brown around the palm with an oily sheen.
 
#9
A mate of mine found out that some bloke who had been banging his missus when he was on tour and as result caused a divorce then married his ex was posted to a different unit at the same camp. Bloke had a nice new Range Rover, strangely enough not long after my mate got out (he had signed off for civ div) the car was showing signs of serious deterioration on the paint job at the bonnet and boot, (i used to pass it on the way into my unit and my mate had pointed out the bloke to me previously). Caught up with mate at A v N a few years later and mentioned it in passing. Turned out that everyday for 3 weeks before he got out, he poured a can of OX8 (brake fluid for the shiny arses) down the cracks where the bonnet and boot start. I have to say it did the job, paintwork was fucked!
 
#10
Depending on how much of a cnut he has been

Place a small add in the paper, offering his car for sale, for several grand below the list price, explaining cash needed urgently due to emigration, and please call after midnight due to shift working.

Empty half the shampoo out of bottle, replace with veet/immac, or a good dollop of red hair dye.

Shove a potato up the exhaust pipe of his car. Or squirt superglue in the lock, then ram a key in and twist it hard enough to snap off.

Find nearest local church. Most of them outside have a board with the name of the vicar. Most of them have headed stationery inside, but if not it doesn't matter. Now, in Word/Publisher/etc knock up a letterhead in the style of the church. Address to his OC/employer. A god-botherer intro paragraph, explaining you are the local vicar and are writing to express your concern over <name's> spiritual welfare considering his upcoming court appearance for child abuse.

or you could just deck him.
 
#11
Take a dump in a bag and then smear it on the insides of the exterior door handles.
 
#12
Scatter your enemy, to drive him before you, to see his cities reduced to ashes, to see those who love him shrouded in tears, and to gather into your bosom his wives and daughters.
Or piss through his letterbox its all good
 
#13
A mate of mine pissed in a letterbox once and had his knob bitten by a dog!
 
#14
Or piss through his letterbox its all good
Or you, you and your mate piss in one of those water pistol master blaster things then spray it up their stairs through their letter box, whilst your mate and his missus are waiting in his focus on the road outside to whisk you away to safety.
 
#15
Down in good old FI many years ago, about mid 90s, a stacker fucked several of us off, so for the remainder of his tour we took it in turns to jizz in his shampoo.............when it came to light at his leaving stitch, he wasn't a happy boy at all.............mind you his hair was in lovely condition ;)
 
#16
Once, Private Pyle got us all punished by the drill sergeant, so we tied him to the bed, put bars of soap in our socks and smacked the fuck out of him.

Not sure if that really happened or if it's a scene from Full Metal Jacket, though.
Come on, mate, don't tell me you're worried that Pebbles is going to beat you at the "random thread about something you did once" game here in the Naafi!
 
#17
What started off as a drunken prank ended up better than I expected:

My ex wasn't particularly well endowed and was very self-conscious about it to the point of obsession. Our divorce was pretty nasty: police, social workers, hospitals and finally a prison stay were involved but eventually we got to a kind of plateau of relative calm... until one night when copious amount of drink got mixed with surfing the internet... I opened my emails to find a spam mail offering to "enlarge your penis with no surgery or expensive medicines!!" You know the sort.

"Ah!" Thinks I. "I know the perfect recipient for this!" and promptly forwards it to my ex. Rest of the night passes in a drunken haze and I forget all about it.

A week later, Friday night, fairly late as the kids had gone to bed, there's a knock at the door. Looks out, there's plod stood on the step. Opens door, "Are you Mrs S.......?" "Yes." "We've received a complaint from Mr S......." "WTF? I haven't spoken to the man in weeks, what am I supposed to have done?" "Are you sure?" "Yes!"

At this point he starts to pull out a piece of paper from the file he's carrying and as it emerges I can see the email header. Memory starts flooding back, swiftly followed by incredulity that the stupid sod has brought a police complaint about it, and then the giggling starts. Copper is also trying hard not to laugh. He asks can he quickly interview me and as I'm putting the kettle on, cautions me. I explain I was drunk, seemed like a good idea at the time, blah blah blah and he says he's satisfied there was no malice intended so it will go no further. Interview formally ended, he confesses that the whole shift have seen the email and the ex's complaint and they now have copies of both and a copy of his mugshot on the staff notice board! As we lived in a fairly small town, it's pretty much guaranteed that the ex will have been spotted by at least one copper a day and had the little finger wave!
 
#18
Had a lad transfer in to our unit from the Para's once, good lad, from 1st or 3rd Batt. Some of the crazy pranks he played -
Wiping his arse and then sticking the toilet roll on your boots.
Putting his finger RIGHT up his arse (so it was stained) and rubbing it on the back of your padlock.
Knocking one out and firing his load on to your pillow! - Did this to one lad on a course and I couldn't stop laughing everytime I was in bed as we were all in the same room!
Classic - One lad once tried to wake him up with a fire extignsher, he wasn't in his bed, but everything got soaked. So a couple of days later he went in this lads room, stole his pillow, very carefully picked all of the stiching along one side, shit in it and stiched it back up! The lad's who's pillow he'd layed one in was aharing a room and his mate was screaming at him to were the smell was comnig from! After much searching and no finding, Ex Para had to tell him!
A couple from a tour in Bosnia -
Again - Still same guy - Thought it would be funny to shoot his man fat in to the troop leaders spices jar on a regular basis!
The best I have ever heard -
He came in to SHQ one day (On tour) and asked the medic for a syringe, when the medic asked why, he said he wanted to wank in to it and then inject it in to his Troop leaders toothpaste tube! Medic refused him for that one!

If you think you know this nutter - He's always going on about his "Chicken portions"!!!
 
#19
During basic (RAF), there was a lad who thought he was the king ding. He was a complete twat but thought he could muscle his way to the top of the tree by bullying everyone. It was a gradual thing that got worse but most were just wanting to keep out of it and keep their heads down, some of us were going to take him down in a spectacular fashion.

Come the night before day 17 inspection, evryone is busy bulling away but not Pri****. He 'ordered' the rest of us to sort out his kit while he went off with one of the gullible WAAF's for a game of hide the sausage.

Kit prep!

All his trousers ironed navy style (the 7 creases thing) plenty of starch used and nice hot iron marks all over the shop.
Boots bulled with wet and dry sandpaper (I supplied it thinking we had the old brass belt buckles where you had to get the copper off, turned out they were the staybright jobbies)
Beret reshaped to the left (french style) with the aid of a hairdryer we borrowed from one of the girls. End ironed for extra allyness.
Belt shortened permanently to anorexic proportions.
DMS service shoes soaked in hot water and thrown in the tumble dryer
Bed pack trampled all over by the block and reassembled, complete with footprints.
Top 3 buttons removed from every shirt.
Growbag swapped for a buckshee one for a midget of 5ft4 (aided by a very helpful corporal) The twat was 6ft3
Shaving foam emptied into his socks and boxers in his civy locker, dried out on the radiators.

The Fight OC and Sgt were not best pleased come kit inspection the next morning.
The Cpl mustered all his strength to keep a straight face, he was in on it as was an ex Para who was our senior recruit.
The Cpl was a sound bloke for a shiny arse.

Anyways, The cunt could not defend how his kit came to be in such a state to the OC as it should have been his own responsibility
The Cpl must have given the rest of the flight staff a de-brief because we all got a free night and a slap on the back for 'teamwork' afterwards

The cunt ended up on the biff flight and never to be seen again
So this bloke actually dressed in the afore mentioned items, knew they were in shite state and still went on the parade?

You fucking liar.
 

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