Revenge Is Mine - Beware: Crude Humor Ahead

How sweet it is to take revenge in such a subtle way that no one puts the two and two together.

scenario One:

Mike is always bombing me with his nasty farts or lingering dumps and the cherry on top was the other night when he left the entire cleaning of the Suburban up to me. Dog poo is now my specialty. But I had such sweet revenge the other night. We'd gone out to eat at the Casino and I got pork tenderloin with this very garlicy sauce. By the time I got home I was feeling kind of weird. Like it wasn't digesting well. I normally take the chalky stuff when I feel this way, but I was out, so I did what I normally do when I'm out of the chalky stuff. I make my own chalky stuff. Baking soda mixed with luke warm water helps me feel better every time. So I drank some (about 6 ounces of the stuff) and went off to get ready to go to bed. Mike was sitting up watching TV and I was in the bathroom getting rid of the Dr. Pepper I'd had at the Casino. I grabbed up a cotton ball for my ears so I wouldn't have to get up later for it. While I was in there this huuuge rip roaring belch came out of the depths of my stomach. The smell was enough to make me consider turning on the exhaust fan. But, instead, with a smirk on my face, I went to bed, hoping I'd have another one of those in there. I got in bed, sat up to read a bit, mainly to make sure all the gas had every chance it needed to escape, and waited. Mike was still sitting up watching TV when it hit me again. BEEELLLLLLCH. "Woo!" I said, "That stinks" and I looked over at Mike and he was waving his arms franticly trying to get the smell to disperse, all the while he had his chin tucked down to his chest and his shirt up over his nose.

Ha! In Mike's own words; That's some funny Sh*t.

scenario Two:

About a month ago, my boss thought it would be a hoot to smear his big greasy melon all over my freshly cleaned window. I had just washed it and hung up these really cute St. Patrick's Day window clings and he comes in and messes it all up. Valerie and I are in the room and he and Linda are out in the hallway while he's smearing the window to the hallway up. I look at him and say "I just washed that! I had to stand on a chair to get the top clean" and so what does he do? He raises his arms up and smears his greasy fingerprints all the way up to the very tip top of the window. Nice. I look at Valerie and said something to the effect of how I'll think of a way to get him back. He must've read my lips (I'd said it real quiet) because he said "Don't even think about trying to get revenge because nobody can win the revenge game with me. I will always get them back. I will always get the last laugh." With that he walked off, laughing like he was King of the World. I looked at Valerie and said "He doesn't know how creative I can be in getting even" Right then and there, I started plotting. I did a couple small things right away to make him think that was all I could come up with. I got on his computer and changed some setting. I changed the speed of his mouse and gave it a shadow. I changed his screen saver from some stupid geometric design to a stupid scrolling marquis that read "Hi Keith!". I turned the volume up as loud as it would go. He never said a word to me about it. I let it lie. He finally changed the screen saver to read "Sooners" (He's a big OU fan) and I considered going back in and typing the word "Suck" behind Sooners, but I didn't want to mess with it. Besides, I don't really want to make him mad, just tease him a little. But my real plot involved his son, 11 months old, and a baby food jar of prunes. Oh, yeah. You know where this is heading, don't you? Wednesday, I commenced with Operation Prunes. Now, under normal circumstances, I would not involve a poor defenseless baby. But desperate times call for desp.....nah, just kidding. The real reason I do not feel guilty is the fact that this baby is always constipated. (Ah, I have breached the constipation boundaries in blog land. Dooce would be so proud) They feed him formula with iron. When he does manage to squeeze some out, they look like rabbit turds. Hard, round and black. And he works so hard to get those little things out. The first time I saw him go, I thought the poor child was going to have a stroke. His face was red, then these even more red, almost purple, spots started popping out on his forehead until they finally met together as one big huge circle above his eyes. He'd push so hard spit bubbles would form at his lips then burst and run down his chin. Frankly, it scared me. Is this what he goes through every time he poops, I wondered? How traumatic! Enter the prunes. Wednesday he finally got them. He only ate half a jar, but then he ate some apple sauce, too. If I'd been thinking, I'd have given him some apple juice, too, because it makes him fart like a pack mule. Just kidding, I didn't want to give him a belly ache, I wanted to loosen him up a bit. It worked just like I had hoped for. He left early that day to take his sick daughter to the doctor. He went straight from the day care to the doctor's office. The next day, this is the story he regaled us with..."I get to the doctor's office and I'm sitting there waiting, the boy in the stroller, the girl on my lap not feeling well, when I smell something. I look around and finally trace the smell to the boy. I picked him up to go change him and the smell about knocked me down. There was poop everywhere. It was all over him, his clothes, his shoes, the stroller. I had to go clean him up and when we left the doctor's office, I went straight to the car wash and sprayed the stroller down. It was so nasty. I thought to myself that he must've been cleaned out good after that, but, later that evening, he did it again. He was crawling by and we smelled it. My wife picked him up and it was coming out of his pants at the top. Smelled up the whole house." Well, of course we were all laughing and later Valerie and I went to my room, shut the door and practically collapsed on the floor laughing.

Operation Prunes was a smashing success.

Who's laughing now?