 My certified badass grandfather then called up a few of the most dangerous and hardened guys he knew from the service. If you like true revenge stories, you found the best place for your vengeful needs. In this episode, we start off with a so-called friend, who betrays his friend and leaves him nearly beaten to death, but his dad retaliates by going nuclear berserk mode. Followed by a cheating father that shamelessly leaves his family for his mistress. Lastly, a woman beater meets the vengeful son and his weapon of choice, a kid-sized baseball bat. Before we start, take the like button on a two-man flying trip, hijack the plane and make it inoperable, then jump off with the only parachute. Let's dive in. Naturally, viewer discretion is advised. These revenge acts might be disturbing to snowflakes. This isn't my story, but it comes from my dad and other family members who witnessed it. This all went down in the late 1970s when my dad was 17. The area he grew up in was in the UK and was a stereotypical working-class town. The part of town my family lived in was run down, full of poor families and had its fair share of crime. But it was close knit and everyone knew everyone. This will be important later. Now my dad wasn't the most well-behaved kid, and he hated being at school, but aside from a speeding ticket, he had never been in trouble with the police. He was, and still is, a really talented musician and had a very active social life. For his 17th birthday one of his friends had bought him a leather jacket with a very specific logo on it. We'll call this friend Dave for future reference. According to my dad, it was a rare and quite expensive motorcycle jacket, he was extremely happy that Dave had got it for him. Dave had bought himself the same jacket a while before and it was a big surprise. My grandmother apparently joked that with the jackets on they looked like twins and she wasn't far wrong. They had similar features, black hair and were both well known for being kitted out in motorcycle gear. A few days after my dad's birthday, he was leaving work as a bartender in the town center at around 10 p.m. As he was getting close to where his bike was parked, a gang of five men approached him from behind. The last thing my dad remembers was being smacked over the head and passing out as he hit the floor. These men beat up my dad with bike chains and a crowbar, literally to within an inch of his life. Luckily two bouncers from a nearby pub had heard the commotion and rushed to help. The men ran off, the bouncers called the cops and my dad was taken to hospital. It turned out that Dave had quite a substantial gambling habit and owed a large amount of money to people who you really didn't want to owe money to. They had threatened Dave and told him that they would be looking for him to teach him a lesson. So Dave decided to set up my dad to take the beating instead of himself, or at least lessen his chances of taking it. He had bought my dad the same jacket, because these guys knew that was what he wore when he rode. He then arranged for a guy he knew to find out when my dad left work and call up the loan sharks to let them know where Dave was. What a scumbag. My grandfather and grandmother were obviously distraught about this whole thing. The first thought on my grandfather's mind was if my dad would survive. When that was answered, his second was how best to get revenge. Bit of background on my grandfather? He was a lifelong boxer and a career military man, he enlisted at the back end of World War II at 17. He stayed in the forces through Korea and then served in Malaya and Burma as a scout and sniper during the mid to late 1950s. He only reluctantly retired when my dad was little and worked as an engineer after his discharge. This guy was a certified badass even into his 50s and although he wasn't the best husband or father at times, he could never stand by and watch his family get hurt. The first step to revenge was made when my grandfather called up every ex-service buddy, bouncer, pub landlord that he knew, and even a few less than legit characters he knew from the pubs. In my town word traveled fast and my grandfather was well liked and had a bit of a reputation, so it wasn't long before he had the names and addresses of the five men who had attacked my dad. Apparently these guys had been bragging about beating up a defenseless man from behind. These guys were career criminals with file and reputations, but my grandfather really didn't give a do-do who or what they were. My grandfather then called up a few of the most dangerous, hardened guys he knew from the service. He explained to them what had happened and they were all happy to help. One night, the group kicked in the doors of each thug and beat them to a pulp, all five of them. They knew that if they hit one, the others would hear about it and run, so they hit all five of them in one night. My grandfather knew that no one would call the police in the area they lived in, talking to the cops was a big no-no in that area back then, so there was little chance of being caught. All five guys ended up bloodied with broken bones, shattered teeth, and the requirement to be fed from a tube by the end of the night. One of them had to be put into a medically induced coma. Of course, the police interviewed all of them in hospital when they sufficiently recovered, but none of them talked. Both out of fear of my grandfather and fear they would be labeled as rats, so nothing came of it. But my grandfather wasn't done there. My grandfather used his connections and the clubs and bars to start spreading rumors about why they had been beaten up. Soon it had gotten round that these five guys had fricked up, and had beaten up the wrong person. Not only that, but they had bragged about it and lied to whoever they worked for about it. Not only were they physically broken, but my grandfather ruined their credibility, so that when they got out, no one, criminal or otherwise, wanted to be associated with them. Once this was all done, my grandfather turned his attention to Dave. He had specifically left Dave for last, knowing that he would do to himself, knowing that my grandfather knew what he had done. My grandfather however, was much more subtle in dealing with Dave, as he thought that a simple beating would be too good for him. He waited and asked around, and it turned out that Dave was not only a compulsive gambler, but also had recently turned into a heavy drug addict as well. My grandfather found out who he was buying his drugs from, when he would usually buy and wear. He had a buddy of his followed Dave when he went to buy his stuff, follow him to where he was living and let my grandfather know. My grandfather then called in an anonymous tip that there was a huge drug deal going on at the address and he thought he heard gunshots. He got two of his buddies to do the same, the police investigated, searched the house and caught Dave red-handed with lots of drugs in his home as well as counterfeit bills and a ton of other illegal stuff. Dave was charged, denied bail and ended up pleading guilty to all the charges laid against him. My dad could never remember his exact sentence but it was definitely heavy, at least 15 years. To add to that, Dave owed a lot of money to a lot of people and let's just say his time in prison was made much worse by this fact. My dad never spoke to him again, his parents disowned him, his girlfriend dumped him, he struggled to get a job with his record and when he got out, he had to move miles away as no one he knew wanted anything to do with him. My dad eventually recovered from his injuries, although you can still see various scars on his body from the beating he took. My grandfather never told anyone what he had done until my dad asked him about it, when he got really ill in the early 1990s. Dave's life was ruined and out of the five who attacked my dad, three ended up in prison later in life and two ended up dead due to crime. My grandfather passed away in the late 1990s and although my dad and him had their issues, it could never be said he didn't look out for him when he needed it. Midway through my senior year at college, my father got the privilege of opening the first plant in China when his company was granted permission. He was getting everything, and I mean everything, business class on airfare, a penthouse, recognition in the company for being effectively in charge of the project, mingling with the higher ups in the company, the works, this was exciting news for him, because he was close to retirement and it seemed that his hard work was finally paying off. My mom was happy, because now with my younger brother starting college and me about to graduate, she and her husband of over 30 years could enjoy their empty nest. She loves us dearly but she called my father her soulmate and wanted to spend their golden years together. However, things turned upside down in less than a year. Maybe the power went to his head. Maybe he was overwhelmed and stressed out with having to start a new life in a new country. Or maybe it brought out the ugliness that was already in his soul, I have no clue. I finished my senior year around Christmas time. Only to see my father pack up his bags and leave us, saying he didn't want to be married to my mom anymore and was seeing someone else. To say the rug had been pulled out from under our feet was an understatement. It was like everything we had ever known had imploded. My father left us shortly before Christmas and we started putting the pieces back together. I started working two jobs and slipping money into my mom's wallet, because I was terrified my father would cut off our money. It was during this time we started therapy and all three of us came to the realization that this man had been emotionally, verbally and financially abusing us for years. It's something I'm still trying to work through and I doubt I'll ever fully recover. Come springtime, my father had a change of heart. He contacted us and started making amends. Something in me was suspicious and held back, but I was happy because mom was happy. She had lost a lot of weight, was crying constantly and was all in all miserable. He returned home for a two week vacation and then proposed a third honeymoon if you will. He and mom would return to China to work things out. My brother and I were staying back home as we were both busy with work and school. Mom and dad left us with some important numbers to call in case of an emergency. Also the email address of my father's immediate supervisor, Humao Kalstan, and weekly Skype sessions so we could stay in touch. Mom and dad left for China and it seemed that everything would work out. Two weeks later, it was time for our weekly Skype session. The first week had been fine and my brother and I were expecting to hear another good report. Instead of that, mom was alone, her eyes swollen and her face red. I immediately went into mama bear mode and asked my mom in a voice that probably scared my brother and mom. What happened? Mom, crying, tells us that after making the rounds with the higher ups, my father had packed his bags, told her he was going to Shanghai for two weeks with his girlfriend and then told mom, I want you gone by the time I get back. Mom, floored by this, asked him, how? Our dad, I don't care how. Then he left my mother in the penthouse with little food, no clean water to drink, we had been warned to never drink the water in China, because it was nasty to say the least, and no way to navigate through a country where she didn't speak the language or get away home. She said, I think he was using me to look good at work. Everyone was saying they were glad we were working out our problems. When I heard that, my fury boiled. I am fiercely protective of my family and friends. You can do whatever you want to me, but make any of my family members or friends cry and you'll learn why it's a bad idea to pick on them. As much as I wanted to fly over to China, track down my father and his mistress and make them feel every ounce of pain that my mother was feeling. I knew that wasn't a smart or practical idea. Instead, I'd have to embarrass him so everyone knew what a scumbag he is. And an idea came to mind. The plan after getting the information I needed from Mom and calming her down, I worked on the first part of my plan, bringing Mom home. I didn't have any money nor did I have a visa to visit. However, I did have Stan's email. Using the skills I honed for my creative writing and general business studies, I wrote a lengthy email to Stan, crying over the keyboard as I drafted it. I explained who I was, what was going on and that I was worried for Mom. I asked him to please help me find a way to reach my Mom and bring her home. I promised him that I would repay every penny, even if it took the rest of my life. I added my personal email and phone number as a finishing touch and asked him to contact me if he had any questions. After making sure it was perfect, a key lesson from my CW professor, make sure your writing is razor sharp, I sent it off along with a prayer that it would work. Stan never did return my email. But 24 hours later, Mom was safely home. I learned that Stan had gotten in contact with my Mom within an hour of me sending the email, verified everything that had happened and gotten her home on the first flight. I sent him another email thanking him for helping us and told him I would repay the expense when I could. That time he did respond and said, It's all right, thank you though. That was the extent of our conversation. But I am still very grateful to him for helping Mom, out of his own pocket if I'm not mistaken. He's earned my respect and I hope, wherever he is, he's doing well. When Mom got home, it sunk in for us that the marriage was truly over and we made plans to move on. They were divorced within a year and we moved to Florida for a fresh start maybe a few years later. Mom found the new love of her life, who I call my stepdad, she's working her dream job, something that never would have happened under my father, and is happier than I've seen her in a long time. My brother and I both are making our way in the world and finding ourselves after spending our lives as our father's perfect children. As time passed, I actually forgot about the email. Until recently when Mom and I were talking about Stan and she revealed what had happened. I was just hoping to humiliate my father. Instead, my email launched massive legal and financial headaches for my father. Right after helping my mom get home, Stan decided that my father's behavior was worrying, because if he's using his wife to hide the fact he has a mistress, what else is he hiding? So he started an investigation into my father. What he learned was mind blowing. Not only was his mistress one of his subordinates, which is strictly against company rules for reasons I can't remember, but he had another mistress on the side. Both of whom he was plying with expensive gifts and vacations to name a few. But that wasn't the topper. Apparently there was evidence that my father might have been embezzling money from the company during his time in China. However, for reasons that I don't know, criminal charges were out of the question. Instead, what they did to him, my father no doubt thinks, was even worse. My father was immediately demoted and sent home. His name was removed from the factory he had built and his mistresses fired. Now, with this company, most of the promotions come not from what you know but who you know. And since Stan knows many people. Eventually, my father was forced to retire early before they fired him. He decided he had been discriminated against and tried to sue the company for unlawful termination. However, the evidence against him was overwhelming and he lost. Now he's disgraced, hated by nearly everyone and with limited contact with his family and friends. He's still convinced that he's an innocent victim and that time will prove him right. But everyone knows the truth. Do I feel guilty about helping to bring down my own father? I'll let Montresor's motto be my answer, no one provokes me with impunity. This happened when I was much younger and frankly, I'm not ashamed. I'll jump straight into the story. After divorcing my dad, my mom hooked up with a dude who was really into drugs. I was 14 at the time. After hooking up with him, she pretty much abandoned me. I went a year without seeing her and around 15 I finally saw her again. She was as thin as a twig and had a black eye. I immediately grabbed my skateboard and went to go after her boyfriend, but my uncle stopped me and just told me, not here, we were at my grandparents' house. Fast forward a few years, where I rarely saw her and I would hear about the abuse here and there from family. I did not get involved, as I was a teenager and didn't even know where she was most times. Of course she never told me about the beatings when I did have a chance to see her or speak with her. When I was 18, I was living with my uncle, the one who stopped me years before. He got a call late one night and it was my mom. Her boyfriend had beat her, bad. We loaded up two 9mm pistols and grabbed a couple of bats and rolled out. But when we arrived, the cops were there as a neighbor had called. Mom's dude was arrested and she was taken to a hospital. He wrecked her pretty good. Did a year and a half in the pen for it. After he gets out, he claims to be reformed and they hook back up. Now I'm in my early 20s. She is living near me and I am trying to build my relationship with her back up. I never would visit her when her dude was home and she would only come to visit me when she was alone. I hadn't heard much about the abuse during that time as it appeared she was trying to clean up her act and things maybe were better with him. One day she comes to visit and I notice a ton of swelling in one eye and a lots of makeup caked around the area. I observed but didn't acknowledge. I knew what he had done. I kept my cool and gave her the impression I wanted to give him a chance, as she had begged me to do for years. I invited her over for a cookout and gave her permission to bring him. My baby daughter and her mom were present for this as well. Maybe I should have mentioned that earlier. I became a dad at 21 and we stayed together. This all occurred around the same time frame. Anyways, the day comes and she brings him. I had already stashed my favorite aluminum kids baseball bat by the back door. Kids sized metal bats are the best for home defense. I led everyone to the front yard to hang out and have my mom, daughter and my daughter's mom chilling out there by the grill. I knew my mom's dude smoked herb, so I make an implication that I'm growing something in my backyard and I'd like to show him. As he heads to the backyard, I told him I just needed to grab something from inside real quick. Side note, I'm really proud of myself for being able to play this all cool because inside I was raging. I see him waiting in the backyard and I grab my bat. I stormed outside and yelled, so I heard you like to hit women. I proceeded to beat the doodoo out of him. Shins, ribs, back and arms. I didn't want to end him as I knew I'd go to prison and I had a newborn to raise, but I did hit his head once accidentally. I just wanted to hurt him good, because I wanted to send a message. He crawled to the front yard as my mom yelled at me and cussed me out. She got him into her car and they sped off as my neighbor stood outside trying to figure out what happened. I kept all the action in the backyard, so no one would have seen anything. When they sped off, I yelled something along the lines of, don't let me find out you hit my mom again. I just didn't need cops to come. Luckily, no one called. My mom didn't speak to me for months. Nothing knew there. I ended up catching up with a mutual acquaintance and found I had cracked the ribs on the dude and he had severe bruising all over. He couldn't really get around for a few weeks. Mom's dude had asked this acquaintance whether he should seek revenge. But mom's dude was told he earned it, so he just accepted it and didn't move forward. I think he knew that if he did seek revenge on me, that my family, very old school, rural country type family, would help him disappear. So I owe them gratitude for their understood protection of me. They tried to help my mom, their sister, but she would just disappear with her dude anytime loved ones tried to intervene. She is a grown woman after all. I believe it's true what they say, nothing keeps a couple together like crack can. That's my story. I'm not ashamed. First time I've ever told this publicly. But all these years later, it feels good to let out. Thank you. Thank you for enjoying this episode, which was made with artificial love. Subscribe or give Royal AI some sugar by avenging the like button. Could you imagine doing one of these acts yourself? Share your experience below. I'll join the conversation.