 The thing with Karens, is that they expect everyone to suck it up, or they simply underestimate everyone and think we're fools. But guess again, cuz for some, there ain't no revenge kill, quite like overkill. If you like true revenge stories, you found the best place for your vengeful needs. We start off, with a Karen who mistreats a disabled person. Followed by another Karen, who doesn't shy away from bullying a kid. Next, a bridezilla amongst Karens, the one who nurtures more Karens into the world, gets to face the consequences of mistreating people, on her most important day. Followed by a Karen who is willing to destroy your phone, when you won't let her demanding kid play with it. Lastly, when you're four mimosas into a chill session with a like button. Comfort it, by telling it's surely not being a Karen, for screaming at the waiter. Let's dive in. Naturally, viewer discretion is advised. This content might be disturbing to snowflakes. This story took place back when I was in Florida in the early 90s. It does involve an act of vandalism that is connected to revenge. South Florida was devastated by Hurricane Andrew. My dad as part of a local charity, was set up day after day at a local market, seeking donations from shoppers to give to food banks. You have to understand, this storm left many people homeless and without power, in some cases for six plus months in Florida heat and humidity. My father was legally disabled from a serious car accident. He was hit by a drunk driver in the early 80s, and suffered from relentless hip and back problems. It never killed his heart or kindness to others. Hence the charity work. One day, he was about to pull into the disabled space at the local market, to go buy a few items to donate to the hurricane charity. Right before he is about to pull in, this lady pulls into the space in this shiny red Porsche. My dad parks behind her and says, excuse me, ma'am, I was about to pull in there and also points to his disabled placard in the window. She says to him, Huh? You don't look disabled. And proceeded to walk into the store. For anyone who has a relative who uses a disabled space, you know the frustration of this situation and the anger one feels. My dad, seemingly unfazed, waits until she goes into the store and then gets out and snips the valve stems on all four tires, flattening, but not destroying all of them. He then pulls into another space not far away and just waits. About 15 minutes later the lady comes out and is shrieking about her car being vandalized. My dad is far enough away so she can't see him but he can hear everything. She calls the police. Big mistake. She files a report for vandalism, and the police give her a ticket for being parked in the disabled space with no placard. This was about $250 at the time. The cops leave and she calls a tow truck. As the car is being loaded onto the truck, my dad pulls up and says to her, You don't look disabled, but your car sure is. And then drives off. My dad could be a nice guy in pure savage when he needed to be. Six months ago, a kid around 10 years old, decided he liked my skateboard and tried to take it by force. I let my instincts get the better of me and jerked my hands up, causing the kid to hit his chin on my skateboard. His mom got mad at me, kid tried breaking the skateboard, and his mom encouraged him. They completely shattered it and kept the pieces. They were isolated people in the community, but it appeared that the M had a good reputation otherwise and with the school. She dropped hints of my disgusting behavior and how I should be kept at bay and crap like that, to the point where teachers started to treat me differently. I'm not so proud of this next bit, but it got to me more than I expected. Due to it also reaching my personal social life. This went far, even more so than I care to go into right now. One time it just got to me and all I could do was cry. This entitled mom was in the process of ruining my life and I could do nothing but watch. However, my spite for this despicable family exceeded my sorrow, due to my crumbling social life, so I formulated a means of vengeance. Here's where the spice is added. I managed to overhear the entitled kid talking. I must add he was a obnoxiously loud talker. He went on about his mom being a senior manager at XYZ Investments and could expel anyone she wanted with a phone call. This sort of banter had been going on for a while now, but I had finally found out some more info. And boy, was I lucky. My uncle, an investor, just happened to own a major equity stake in said company and was an advisor to the CEO. It's quite a small company that was just getting started, but I could tell was a major source of income for the family, as his dad was an alcoholic, who was infamous in the neighborhood because of this. I'm quite close with my uncle, he's like the fourth member of our family. He comes around often. As the day went by, I started inquiring more about this company. Turns out, the founder asks him for opinions on who to hire. I inquire about the employees of this company and who he'd consider firing, yes, quite direct, but keep in mind I was desperate. And this is my uncle. He said quite a few, but didn't go in all too deep. Turns out he didn't approve of the managers. I saw my opening. I told him about my incident with the Karen and he was enraged. He couldn't believe an employee could be so inhumane and misguided. While he was in his rage, I told him about her hurting my social life as well. Here comes phase two. While my life felt like slowly melting away at the candle, I still had some loyal friends. I think you see where this is going. We started to spread rumors around school. Our school is a prominent LGBTQ supporter, so we spread the news he was against this. I don't think you will ever truly get how this broke him so fast as it did. I started to get emotional at school, spread rumors like. He called me a Nancy, and he said being gay is blasphemy, which made everyone somewhat wary about him. Even at his age, kids that age can be more cruel than grownups. His friends just stopped talking to him and were unsociable for a while. He was bewildered, not exactly informed about the happenings and still tried talking to them. They just wouldn't respond. I tell you, his expressions were priceless. But this was the turning point. I caught him in a bad mood. A teacher seemed to have failed him and he was cussing randomly, building up a tantrum. So, I got my phone and began to record this fine specimen. Karma hits, and it hits hard. I managed a tape of him calling several girls leszies and a few teachers frictarts. Dear listener, I have 570 followers, nearly all of them my friends and or classmates. I put it on my story. After that happened, you might as well consider his reputation broken. He was called on by the principal, received a weak suspension and any attempts to contact the school during this period was shunned. His mom would try to arrange meetings, but was shunned. They were now truly isolated in the neighborhood, but now it was worse. People would clown them in public, give them dirty looks and not help them at all. From moving their car slightly to the left to sending school work. The Karen was quite nasty in public and would often spit at or have fits in public. This carried on to the workplace and she was eventually fired. Her reputation was ruined, other companies were alerted to this by several of my contacts in the neighborhood. And we caught wind that she was leaving the state. I'm a female and have known Pat for decades, we're both 48 years old. As far as I can remember, she was fixated on having five children and a picket fence dream life. I slowly cut ties with her in college, because she was an opportunist and I didn't trust her. She is both manipulative and forceful. Her idea of cute rubs me the wrong way. Pat likes to walk like a penguin when she wants to elicit pity, and she usually does this when she wants to evoke the underdog narrative. I've never seen someone act so despicable and ridiculous at the same time. I decided to move on with my life. Happily got rid of her for years. Pat eventually found me on Facebook. I accepted her friend request out of politeness. This made her feel I opened my door to her again. I can see Pat has become the epitome of a permissive mother. Her five kids do as they please, and she never calls them out. She tried to force a relationship between me and her daughters and made them call me auntie. Pat tried to drop them at my house uninvited. Her phone calls were insistent, she tried to monopolize my time and she began to show up at my job. I created some boundaries so she tried to find loopholes. It was a nightmare. My husband and I hosted a party for the new members of our community center. The community center is actually a very informal initiative and my husband and I mainly serve the homeless population. We prefer to help strangers instead of catering to potentially narcissistic acquaintances. We don't mind lending a hand. But we have encountered truly dishonest choosing beggars. There are other services, like one of the members who helps women get their wedding and prom dresses for free. The community center headquarters is actually a farm owned by an elderly couple. There is a barn, a venue and a very nice green field with an artificial lake and some fell. They charge for the use of their facilities, but not for community oriented stuff. Pat had always been salty at her husband for demanding that she go back to work after baby number three. In the meantime, he worked three jobs. She demanded he get her pregnant to fulfill her dream of having five kids. He didn't agree, because he was already nearly 45 and felt like he might never be able to retire. She got away with bringing new babies into this world anyway. Her fascination with being pregnant comes from all the attention she gets. She had at least one miscarriage in between each kid. Pat latched onto our group. She never missed any of our activities. I hated having her in my house, but it was an open invitation that included virtually everyone and she was very active as an event organizer. I didn't like the way her kids behaved. We have a designated area for parties and entertainment, but her kids ended up inside my bedroom. We ended up having to keep watch of them and enjoyed zero of our own party. I called her days later to get my point across, regarding their overall behavior, but she completely cut me off and began talking about herself instantly. Saying her kids wanted to come visit again and use our pool. I never answered that. I didn't want to say, no, I will not have your brats over. She also called me as summer was approaching specifically, to let me know her middle daughter was bored and wanted to spend a week at our home. I politely declined, citing that me and my husband have to work and cannot entertain guests. Pat paid no heed. Her kid called me on the weekend, calling me auntie and attempted to coax me by saying, Mom says you invited me to spend summer with you. I quickly clarified and offered an explanation to avoid hurting a kid's self-esteem. Nevermind, her daughter just hung up on me. Pat's Facebook also showed some red flags. Some cryptic rants here and there were visible, along with friends comments and complaints on how she asked a particular person to watch her kids only for a couple of hours, and ended up leaving them all day. Another of her friends criticized her girls night out, because Pat had just asked them to be patient and wait until she could pay back some money that she owed them. Yet she had money to spend on Friday night outings. I thought those very public comments on private matters were more like a cry of lost patience. Unpleasant things began to happen. Like the time she volunteered to wrap the Christmas presents for underprivileged kids. We all wanted to create a mix of less costly gifts with really nice ones. Surprisingly, some nice and eye-catching toys and games went missing, but turned up under her Christmas tree, courtesy of her mother-in-law's Facebook posts. No one could prove anything, but it was truly hate-inducing. Or the time my daughter called me in tears to pick her up after she attended Pat's daughter's birthday, Casey. My daughter had been ignored all night, because she didn't gift her the expensive gaming stuff Casey practically demanded. My daughter did ask, but I said no. We would buy her a very nice and thoughtful present according to her taste. So when I went to pick her up. My daughter was sitting alone in the living room while Casey and her friends stayed outside. Stories about Pat and her family multiplied. The owners at the farm decided keep their gates locked unless they had guests or events. This became a thing because Pat got in the habit of driving in whenever she pleased, and it was either her kids screaming and disturbing ongoing weddings, throwing rocks at the koi in the lake or harassing the geese in the yard. Or how she stiffed another soccer mom with the lunch bill and then pulled the struggling financially card. Or how other parents started to hate her, because she created unnecessary hostile competition. When my daughter turned 13, I allowed her to wear my grandma's ring. It's not an expensive piece of jewelry, but it's vintage and girls nowadays want to look boho. My granny gave it to me when I became a teenager, so I passed it on to my kids so she could wear it on her birth week. It was weird that she became quiet and distracted after that. She also didn't want to go to school and my husband and I became suspicious. She never opened up and my other kids had no clue. We went to her school, but her teachers assured us nothing had changed in her environment. My husband and I suspected she was being bullied, but our kid gave us no tools to support her. My kid is very sunny and very compassionate. She has never had any problems with other kids. I called her best friend's mom. Natalie, my kids BFF, told us what was going on. Casey, Pat's eldest, and my daughter had become closer friends. I knew this and wasn't too thrilled. I found the age gap not exactly inappropriate. Casey was a bit older at 17, but I'd rather see my daughter spend time with friends in the same younger age range. Casey is very beautiful and a gifted student. She is also very conceited. To make this story short, she asked my daughter if she could try on the ring and refuse to give it back. She later claimed that she lost it but would look for it. So my daughter was distraught. My daughter kept asking for her ring and as a result, Casey shunned her and spread the word that my kid was trying to steal her ring. Some kids at school took Casey's side. So now Casey just wore my kid's jewelry to school like nothing happened. If that doesn't qualify as taunting, I don't know what does. My guilt comes from not being able to get my daughter to open up and feel safe telling me the truth. I talked to her and she burst into tears. I was both pained as a mother and furious that some teenage skank was doing this under our noses. I went straight to Pat's car after school. I asked to talk as Casey was about to go in. So I grabbed Casey's hand and asked to see her jewelry. Casey froze and she tried to make a fist, so I became relentless. Casey yelled Mom. And Pat struggled to get out of the car. I slid the ring off, Casey has tiny hands and wore the ring on her index finger. First Pat yelled at me. After I confronted her with the engraving on the band, my grandma's maiden name, she argued it was loaned to her daughter by my kid. Then she said she bought it, but I paid no heed this time. I did warn them that I knew Casey had become an abusive friend to my daughter. Pat called me to tell me off. She said she was trying to raise an assertive young woman and I had just messed that up by being overbearing. She never apologized for her thief of a child. Pat's husband, Hank, is what can be described as a doormat. Pat wore him down to a knob. He had no choice but to obey her to keep the peace. She was a bully, who actively withdrew affection when he didn't follow her wishes, even in public. So she got kids number four and number five after a relentless campaign. That included leaving him for two months. Her pregnancies were a nuisance, because she expected to be treated like the only lady who has even been pregnant. She strolled around in a wheelchair almost immediately after getting pregnant and she would get very sick on weekends, so her kids were often sent to friends and family, so that she could rest. Pat systematically bullied Hank. She would leave town and take the kids with her. Poor Hank would look distraught, drinking on his porch or just looking really lonely. This is how she got off the hook and was able to leave her job. Hank had virtually no voice, so he struggled to keep the marriage together. Everyone really liked him, but hated her equally. Hank loved to talk to other people but seemed concerned that Pat would get upset. Over time, according to my husband, Hank began to show signs of depression and mental distress. Our friend, Lena, runs the wedding dress initiative. It's not complicated. Dresses are sourced from donations, ebay, trunks shows etc. Unusually beautiful dresses are retained, so more than one bride gets to wear them. In some cases, a bride will pay 50 bucks, but most of the time, the dresses are donated to the bride. Pat was involved in this. Lena kept her in, because they never had any issues and her task was limited to just shipping the dresses out. Pat decided to renew her vows and her bride's illa car and illa attitude became the icing on the cake. For starters, she bullied another couple into giving up their wedding date at the farm, because she needed her renewal to match her exact wedding date. They were not impressed with her harassment, so they booked another venue. As a result, the farm owners were pissed, because Pat was already costing them money after she had successfully negotiated a cut in their rate, because she couldn't afford it, but will repay by doing maintenance work around the venue, let me emphasize she never made good on her word. Pat became attached to a particular dress that was already assigned to another bride. Lena made it clear that she would need to pay for her own dress. So Pat played it cool and shipped the wrong gown instead. She was adamant that it was the right dress, despite all the notes on Leah's agenda. The other bride was truly gracious about it. She was obviously disappointed, but never made a scene. What bothered me most, is that I picked that dress and bought it for 40 bucks at a garage sale, not my money, Leah's money for the cause. It was a vintage dress, ankle length, white with lots of lace and a huge bargain. Again, when confronted, Pat did a casey and used that this is mine strategy. We felt so bad for the other bride, that we did our best to get her something nice to wear. The other bride was a true fighter, she had pulled out of welfare, earned her high school diploma and was working to get on her feet, by trying to earn a certificate as an acrylic nail technician. So, her reward was to have some care and steal her dress. Pat never admitted to messing up, but just by the fact that she claimed it was her dress, we knew. Lena never allowed her in her warehouse again. Their last phone fight was about Pat bringing up the other bride's past, like it mattered, and ending with, this conversation is over, it's my dress and you are mistaken. That was weeks before the other bride's wedding. Pat went all out on her wedding decor. She spent way too much. She hired a caterer for some food. Mainly mimosas and appetizers, but the wedding invitation included a request for specific dishes for her Sunday brunch wedding. Either she ran out of banquet money or was on a complete moocher mode. I picture the penguin walking upon practically asking everyone to supply her wedding reception grub and I cringe. There is nothing wrong with potluck weddings. In fact, they can be a nice addition to a very cozy and family-oriented wedding reception. But, don't you need to at least be close to your guests in order to ask for such a thing? Even I got an invitation. I told everyone I wasn't going, because I was very uncomfortable being told what to bring, and was probably expected to give them a cash gift on top of that. Some of the older ladies in our group agreed. Some said they would not decline in advance, because she is a bully and they didn't want a confrontation. Lena called me the night before Pat's re-wedding. Lena was there to close the Saturday night bingo and Pat was awfully friendly, but that's what she does whenever things are going her way. Lena peaked into the garment bag and saw the exact same dress, while Pat was caught up supervising the wedding decoration. The thing with Karen's, is that they expect everyone to suck it up, or make their dreams come true, or they simply underestimate everyone and think we are all fools. Lena is a very straightforward person with a so-summe attitude. She told me she would just ruin the dress. After all, it was hers, so she could do whatever she wanted. If Pat wanted to take legal action, and should things get ugly, she needed to prove ownership. However, the dress was the same, the marks inside the hem and the tags were the same. Even the tag numbers that were punched to identify each dress for logistics purposes matched. Pat had the dress altered, with some extra beading and dyed to a deep cream color. But it was obviously the same garment. Lena and I snuck in before the venue was closed for the night. All brides are allowed to stay in a small bedroom for a small charge, so that they don't need to drive in on their wedding day. Honestly, the makeshift chapel was gorgeous, I don't know how she paid for it, but it was full of flowers and presumptuous details. I naively brought in some ink to spill on the dress, but Lena said she wanted. Something more awful, like a nasty surprise. Ink would be too obvious and as she saw it ahead, she may be able to snag another gown from somewhere. No, the ideal thing was to have her trust the dress was fine. So Lena locked herself in a bathroom stall, and proceeded to completely cut out the back panel. She patiently put it back on its hanger and zipped the bag. We left through the emergency door, with the back of the dress stuffed inside Lena's purse. I completely hate people who target and steal from anyone they calculate to be in a weaker position. Just as Pat and her kid would do. The wedding was scheduled at 9 AM. Pat called me at 7 AM, but I ignored her calls. I picked up by 8 AM, both curious and wondering if she suspected anything. Pat was frantic. She was crying that her dress was missing by half. I purposely made her explain, being annoyingly dense and continually interrupting like she does, installing the conversation. She asked me if I could lender my wedding dress. I said no, sorry. She then asked me if I would help her get a dress. I was satisfied to remind her that the town's bridal shops were closed on Sunday, the others that would open were almost an hour away. The farm is already almost 1 hour away from our town. If Pat could get a shop to rent a dress, she would need to try the dress on, and get it steamed. Even if the dress was ready to wear, it would easily take more than 2 hours due to the roundtrip. She tried to ask me to go pick a dress, but in my mind lingered another question worth asking, who would pay for this? Even if a shop were open and brought her a dress, it would add to the cost. Also, these shops open at 10 or 9.30 at earliest. By time they got to her, it would be time to wrap up the wedding because she needed to clear the venue by 12 o'clock for the next event. She broke down and mumbled some stupid stuff I didn't understand. So Pat hung up on me and called Lena instead. She asked Lena to bring her anything she had available. Lena and I ended up delivering the most outdated, moss-smelling, oversized dress. Pat's disappointment was a mix between angry and emotional. She also tried to wear her knee-length silk bridal slip as a wedding dress, but it was too obvious and it really looked cheap. She tried to get her daughter to give her her own dress to wear with an open back zipper, due to fitting issues, but Casey refused, asking if she was supposed to attend the wedding naked, she got a point, plus Casey is petite. The dress needed a petticoat to plump up the skirt, which wasn't available. So it dragged all over the floor and Pat had to keep pulling it up. Pat walked down the aisle, with one hand on her bouquet and another one grabbing her dress. The dress looked limp and weird with the arrangements of pins, they didn't show, that caused the sleeves and neckline to pucker into messy rims. She spent the ceremony looking uncomfortable and out of place. Very few people attended, but that was not part of any revenge, that was just how people reacted to her entitled attitude. The dress looked awful. The reception portion of the wedding had all this princely decoration, a very nice cake and a bridezilla with a dress from hell. I didn't stay, but I was told, she was so disappointed she spent her wedding sulking. There was no dance, no actual speech. She had to change into a shirt and leggings because the dress was too uncomfortable. Everyone talked about how Pat put on her flip flops and walked around aimlessly, until she ordered the ushers to start folding up the chairs within one hour of the reception. So she practically kicked everyone out and the cake was never cut. Pat wasn't the same after this. She was not as loud and avoided everyone. I think she was disappointed that nobody ran to her rescue, not even her family who came from out of town. Her husband finally cracked under all the pressure and sought some help. He was slaving away and coming home to clean the house, while Pat used her kids as an excuse to spend like crazy. Hank also had to help with the kids' homework because Pat never had time or never had patience. She also refused to get a part-time job so her kids could attend an after-school and get help with their school stuff. Therapy seemed to help Hank, because the last time Pat left with her kids, he didn't seem distraught. He would be riding his bicycle and could be seen more relaxed while mowing his lawn. Hank told my husband that he had contemplated suicide after their third kid. When Pat returned, he maintained a routine but was interested in going out by himself and doing things for himself. We began to see Pat alone all the time. Hank was seen less and less in the same car and eventually moved in with his parents. He filed for divorce on the grounds of emotional cruelty and I don't think he won. Instead, I'm not sure of this, because this is what I was told, there was some sort of a settlement or agreement that she would not get close or interact with him, unless it has to do with the kids. I also don't know if Pat even actually suspected who or what happened to her dress. She slowly pulled away from the community center and became less active in social gatherings. Pat also removed me from her Facebook as well as mostly everyone else from school in the center. One winter, I was taking the train home after a day of doing jack-doodle at university. Mostly, just gaming with my friends. I owned a pretty neat smartphone for some time. Thing held on for a long time. It was pattern-locked, as I am bad with words and numbers, but good with shapes. I was on my phone browsing Pinterest, next to an entitled mom and her entitled kid, bad move on my part, when her kid comes and asks, more like demands, to let him play on my phone. Feeling like a smarty pants, I locked the phone and gave it to the kid, another bad move on my part. After about two minutes, the kid tells his mom he can't unlock the phone. Being like any other entitled mom, she demanded from me to unlock her child's phone. I say no, ask for my phone back, and she proceeds to smash it to the ground, being all smug about it. Now, it was an old phone. I wanted to replace it either way, and coincidentally backed up everything on a SD card at home. Mostly, I used it for internet. So my reaction was that I just remained quiet. Just shrugged. Because I knew I wanted revenge now. So, I didn't scream or anything. I just picked up the phone and removed the SIM card, while they moved further away. At my stop, the train began to get crowded. I made my way to the exit, making sure I pass her again, and snatched her purse while she wasn't looking. The purse wasn't on her arm, it was on the seat beside her. I could overhear her still telling her kid about how much of an prick I was, making it easy to pick it up without her noticing. The original plan was to smack her head and then move out quickly. It might sound stupid, but I've done it before, and got away with it. I am easy to miss. I had my jacket on, and many people had their hoods up, so it was easy to blend in. Before the train left, I knocked on the window next to her and held up her purse. The look she gave was the most satisfying thing I've ever saw. She tried to stop the train, but the emergency stop was either broken or nonexistent, old train, and the crowd made it impossible to move around. I moved to a place with no cameras around and searched through her purse. Got close to 400 euros in a different currency, and a Samsung phone. I tossed the purse in a trash bin outside, went to McDonald's and got a happy meal. I didn't regret anything. She broke my stuff, I got it back, plus interest. If someone criticizes me for it. I truly don't care. Thank you for enjoying this episode, which was made with artificial love. Subscribe to receive future episodes, and tickle the like button for Good Karma. Do you have any experiences surrounding this topic? Share yours below, I'll join the conversation. And I'll be seeing you, in the next one.