 His face showed restrained rage and vindictiveness that scared me, and I wasn't even the one he was mad at. Sexy time with a loved one is considered one of the most beautiful experiences. Yet, revenge can be just as passionate. Especially when both go hand in hand. In this episode, a serial cheater girlfriend meets evil side of partner. A serial rapist is served to vengeful victims and an abusive and incestuous husband impregnates daughter and receives unforgiven judgment through his wife. The last wholesome story is about a creepy youth minister falling into a deep pool of regret. Naturally, viewer discretion is advised. These revenge acts might be disturbing to snowflakes. I met Jane after ending a long-term relationship. I didn't think I'd want to date again, but Jane and I really clicked and it was such a nice escape. We hung out as friends before moving on to dating, and within six months we had moved in together. I had long since gotten over my ex, and Jane and I were doing great and regularly talking about the future. I was fairly socially awkward and only had a few good friends before meeting her, whereas she had a large circle of acquaintances and friends she introduced me to, who became good friends of mine as well. About a year into our relationship Jane informs me that she had a one-night stand with someone she had met at the bar. Begs for forgiveness, says she's so sorry, that she wasn't used to alcohol, all the usual excuses. Me not wanting to lose this relationship too, and having invested so much time thinking about my future with this girl, believes her. It wasn't easy, and I ended up in therapy for my anxiety but we worked through it after a lot of talks and crying and long nights, gradually rebuilding trust after she reassured me regularly that I was the one for her and she was still committed to our relationship. I confided in a few close mutual friends, who kept it to themselves. Everything seemed back on track, and I thought we healed. Another year passes when I notice Jane seems off, she's gone more often, more secretive of her phone, I'll wake up to find her on the computer instead of in bed. Red flags flying. One weekend she tells me she's going to her mother's to help her with spring cleaning. I don't really get along with or speak to her mother. Her mother is an incredibly religious woman who was already upset with Jane for living with me before marriage and a few other personal decisions on her end, and feels as if she has control over her life due to financially supporting her, which is why I assumed she figured it'd be a safe bet I wouldn't talk to her mom. A few hours after she left, I called her a few times and it went right to voicemail, meaning her phone was off. So I called her mother knowing she wouldn't answer me, and left a voicemail asking if Jane had made it to her house safely, it had been hours and I hadn't heard from her. Few minutes pass and she calls me back, tells me that she called Jane and couldn't get an answer, as I knew she wouldn't. Started asking when she left, etc. I told her she left that morning to help her with spring cleaning. This was new to her mother, who never spoke to her about that. Her worrying about Jane had her thinking. I sit there thinking about what I'll tell Jane when she speaks to her mom and has time to think of an excuse. She gets home later that night, and seems totally nonchalant. Turns out her phone is still off, so she hasn't even gotten the calls from me or her mom yet. Perfect. I ask her how her day went, she tells me how much she hates dusting, there was so much on the top of the cabinets she emphasized. And how they had to carry stuff down to the basement, an elevator would have been nice, all that good stuff. I then decide to let her know I was aware she hadn't been to her moms. Long story short, she admits to cheating on me again, and had been since I had forgiven her for the first time. While I was dealing with the anxiety and insecurity, while she was reassuring me it would never happen again and I was the only one for her, while we talked about buying a place and all our goals she was sexy timing around with the same dude, mostly online but had met up with him every so often for quick sexy time during the day. I basically shut down entirely, and went to stay with a friend and told Jane it was over. The more I thought about it, the more my sadness turned to anger, and the stupider I felt for giving her a second chance. I had wasted two years of my life and made myself vulnerable to someone I fell in love with, who I thought loved me, and made a fool of me. Jane was inconsolable, calling me, my friend who I was staying with, texting and threatening to show up in hopes of fixing it. She was on the verge of a breakdown, claiming she'd do anything, talk to therapists, give me total access to her accounts, anything she could do to make it right. To take back the past. Which is when I saw the opportunity to get back at her. I told her I wanted to be able to forgive her, but big changes needed to happen in order for me to do that. She jumped at the opportunity. I told her I needed to be sure she was serious about our future. First, I wanted to look at renting a bigger place, somewhere without bad memories. We were month to month, so gave my landlord notice and asked her to go through the process of securing us a new lease elsewhere as I couldn't handle it right then. I then told her that if we're going to learn to trust again, I want to start taking steps towards an engagement. This time I emphasized, I don't want to focus on the past. If I do I'll want to leave. I just want to focus on the future. Also the first step should be a joint account. That I still trust her with finances, to which she agreed. I deposited a few hundred into the account, told her I had spent the rest of my savings on paying two months' advance rent to my buddy I was staying with and he'd give it back to me in installment since I'd be moving out sooner than planned. Now that this was set up, I figured I wanted to ruin her social life. But I knew it would take some more plotting to do that. So I told her to come back to our apartment. And we stayed there waiting out the end of the month. We cried together, she was overwhelmingly affectionate, let me watch her delete her social media pages, made me breakfast most days. She was just so sorry. I wanted to scream at her so badly, but instead I'd ask for comfort and reassurance, and play the wounded animal. We had plenty of makeup sexy time too, which is the only thing I feel slightly guilty about. She was sure to be extra adventurous for my sake, so when I asked if I could take some photos she was all for it. During this time, I had been distant from our mutual friends, turning down invites and saying things like Jane wouldn't want me to go, or asking a few one-on-one for advice for how do they handle it when their partner gets mad? Here and there I dropped questions like, does your partner ever break stuff or slap you? No no, Jane would never do that. I was just wondering. Then, shortly before we planned to move into the new place, I had cold feet. Told her I didn't think I could do it. That I just didn't trust her. She was frantic, pleading with me not to leave again and begging for something she could do to fix it. So I told her I believed our social circle put her up to it. She swore up and down that no one had any idea. But I asked how could I believe her? She lied to me twice before, I don't trust her around them. That a fresh start means new people in our lives too. That I'd never feel comfortable again as these people I don't know if I can trust were still around. I wore her down until she agreed to ghost them all. But that wasn't enough for me. I told her that I needed the bridge to be burnt, because I don't trust them. So I had her rejoin and send a message to the group chat complaining about fake friends, fact-stabbers and how she was better without them, then block them all. She cried for a long time over that, but if it was what I needed to stay, she'd get over it. I had a bunch of messages from mutual friends asking, WTF? To which I told them it was complicated and I'd talk soon. Few more days pass, and it's time to move into the new place. We spend the day moving some things in, and Jane is practically giddy talking about our future plans. I tell her to pick up anything she needs from her moms, and I'm going to get some stuff from my parents' place and we'll meet back at the apartment that night. As soon as she leaves, I call my friend and we pack up everything I had brought over and take it back to his place. Then I message my friends, telling them Jane had been abusive the last few months, which is a lie, a reason for why I didn't go out, and that the reason she had blocked them is because she thought I told them and that they were telling me to leave her. I then went to the bank and drained our joint account, which had about $400 from me and about $3,700 and some change from her. Then I sent an email to Jane's mother claiming to be an angry ex who had access to my phone, including all those sexy time photos I took with Jane. Just thought you should know what your slutty daughter and that piece of do-do get up too. And lastly, I had my friend hit me in the eye twice, swelling it up, then blocked Jane and asked two of our mutual friends to meet up with me. And just like that, it was over. I told them how Jane had become mentally and physically abusive for over the past few months after I caught her cheating. I showed them the screenshots of her chats with this guy. I told them I had kept quiet to keep the peace, how she lashed out at all of them when she thought they had been helping me behind her back. How it was so out of character. How she threw a remote at me and swelled my eye when we were moving, and that's when I knew I needed to leave, and why I needed to take the money to get to safety. Jane showed up to my friend's house looking for me, while he told her I had moved and would call the cops if she showed up again while I hid upstairs. Heard how she frantically tried to find me to figure out what was happening and reached out to our mutual friends to make amends and tell them it was all my idea, only to discover the ones I had been talking to and subtly alluding to being abused for weeks as well. As the ones who remembered me coming to them after the first time she cheated, and the ones who had seen my eye, had passed along the information to her entire social circle and she was met with threats, insults and being ghosted by everyone she knew. How she told the last mutual friend she spoke to before he ghosted her that her mother had said she'd pray for her and cut her off financially for living an unhealthy lifestyle until she can smarten up after seeing the photos, which she can't prove I've ever sent as her mother certainly wouldn't have kept them, and that she's severely depressed. She's trapped in a six-month lease with zero money, no friends to rely on, and no one to help her stay afloat aside from maybe her former fling should she run to him. I'll be using her money to cover rent on a new apartment for myself, and bought my friend a nice gift for being my accomplice in this. I plan to stay in therapy, both to get over this and to work through my feelings and how low I stoop to get revenge, as I don't want to carry this negativity with me in the future. I know royal AI would salute this. After that, I plan to relearn how to be single and enjoy life on my own, with the friends I inherited to keep me company. So when I got out of the navy in 1958, like many young men I joined a fraternity. Now most of the brothers wear nice people, except this asshole will call Brad. Brad was a four-time legacy from our fraternity. At first, he seemed nice, but after he became a fully initiated member, he let his inner ass show. He was such an ass because he would always show off with daddy's money, he was 18 and never had a job. He always got super drunk at the parties and got handsy with other people's girlfriends. Now his dad was a political figure in Sacramento, and his mother's father worked in the California system of higher education. Brad knew that he was untouchable and wasn't afraid to let you know. Brad in 1959, crashed three cars because he drove drunk. His parents bought a new Cadillac each time because he claimed, someone stolen crashed his. When his parent bought him a Buick convertible, he said that he has a reputation to uphold and doesn't want people to think that he is poor. A couple of months into the fall semester and Brad is drunkenly harassing women at the party, even saying lewd and suggestive things to them. We try to cut him off but he keeps going on. Some of us go and leave Brad to himself. Hours later we see a girl leaving Brad's room. I'm thinking in my head she doesn't want to be seen taking the walk of shame. She just cries while covering her face and holding her shoes. I knock on Brad's door and he says, ready for round two. Get your ass on the bed. When he sees that it is me he put his clothes on. I ask why that girl was crying and he said, how the frick should I know? But she was blonde, tan, tight. I ignore him but I tell another brother what happened. They know that he is a pig and just brushed it off. A couple of days later police came to our house and arrested Brad for rape. Apparently, they were watching him because 13 other girls were accusing him. Now Brad had this birthmark on his private parts. So the statements from the girls were taken into account and he was arrested. The evidence was undeniable, especially with the details that the girls were giving regarding Brad. Due to him being a sexual predator he was expelled from the chapter. This was without him knowing, and is important later. So we in one of the sororities on campus started a support group for the victims. Girl 1 was saying how Brad made her feel and that she wanted to get back at him. Girl 2 was talking about if she had the chance she would kick his ass. So one of our brothers, Ralph, said, well why don't you? When he comes back to the house, we can take him somewhere and you can have some time with him. In the desert, alone. So mere days after Brad was arrested, he was bailed out with the help from mommy and daddy, and he came back to the house. We started lying saying how we know that the charges were BS. Brad said, yeah, my dad has a whole team of lawyers representing me, this is going to go away fast. Brad gets drunk but Ralph drugged him. Ralph and some of the other guys proceed to drive 3 hours east from the coast into the California desert. Ralph and some of the other guys meet the 9 of the 13 girls in the desert. They wake up Brad, who is still somewhat drunk and push him out of the car. Now as Brad wakes up, I was told that he went pale face as he saw the women that he victimized were standing over him with blunt objects, stabbing weapons, and a shovel. Brad cries out to Ralph and the other guys saying, you can't leave me here alone. They answered, you aren't alone, you have plenty of company, and you know everybody. The guys drove off and the girls came back to campus 3 hours later. They had dirt on their clothes, and a red stained potato sack. Us guys never knew what became of Brad. But to this day when we see the remaining girls that are living, we never ask. When finishing up my degree in criminal justice, we had to learn about how the justice system works and how sometimes it doesn't. For about 2 weeks we studied a case from the early 90s of a woman that had killed her husband. Because the case is public record and a very interesting read look up Betty Freeberg 1993. The setting was small town Iowa and the husband was the town drunk. Everyone in town knew him for a drunk, a brawler, a womanizer and overall just a bad person. His wife was the stay-at-home mom as she wasn't allowed to work or leave the house aside from getting groceries. He would go home, beat her and violate her sexually and the cycle would go on and on and the whole town knew. Neighbors were a quarter mile down the road, but still would call the police when they heard noises. It was well documented and because he was never a threat to their daughter, the police did nothing aside from taking him to jail like a revolving door. Each time he got out he'd beat her up again. Their daughter was away at college but came home for Thanksgiving. While the father was at work, the daughter told the mother that her father had violated her sexually and that she had even had an abortion because of it. This was the breaking point for the mother. She got her revenge 100 fold. When her daughter went back to school after the holidays and husband came home, she killed him with his gun at the kitchen table. The table is important because it was a big farm table used for chopping up deer and other livestock. Doing the butchering was her job and she was good at it. If I could find the case report, it has pictures of the table and clear marks of chopping. She chopped up her husband and scattered his body over neighboring farms, fed what she could to her livestock and cleaned up. Months went by and winter came and left. Police investigating his disappearance even questioned her while sitting at the table drinking coffee. She explained the marks on the table by explaining that she butchered her own meat and showed the officers her deep freeze. The investigation went on for months until a neighbor's dog brought back a body part. They identified it as belonging to him and she was arrested on the spot. She plead not guilty and refused any offers. It went to trial and 12 of her peers judged her not guilt due to extenuating circumstances. She confessed to the crime, explained why and how she did it, and that she had no real choice because no one was going to help her. The farm was hers and she refused to give it up as it had been her family's home. She was let go entirely for the murder charge. The next week we had Betty as a speaker to the class to discuss the case and she was awesome. At the time she ironically sold dismemberment insurance for Affleck. Betty if you ever read this, know your scene as a figurehead for battered women and you pulled off the best revenge I have ever been able to study. About six to seven years ago, I was a ministerial student at a conservative Christian college. I had attended the same Bible believing church since I was a small child. It was large, about 1000 members, but not a mega church. This church had been an enormous part of my life for as long as I could remember. I played piano for youth choir, preached at the children's church service, drove the church bus to pick up unchurched children, etc. I did all of this for free, not even getting reimbursed for expenses. During my senior year in college, we got a new minister of music, education and youth. This guy was as charming as an ice cream sundae with razor blades in it. I'll call him Mr. Charming. All of the deacons, and their wives, thought he walked on water. He was an authoritarian asshole. In his first meeting with the church youth group, he announced that he had been hired to straighten out the youth group. One of his favorite sayings was, when I tell my disciples jump, the only questions they get to ask are how high and how far. The adults loved him and the youth hated him. Within a few weeks, half of the high school and college students had quit coming to church. Most youth directors would have gotten into trouble over this, but he had the audacity to proclaim, in front of the entire congregation in the Sunday morning worship service, that he had eliminated all of the thorny ground from the youth group. It happened to be a reference to the Bible, and the pastor and all of the deacons loved him for it. He didn't waste any time going after what he really wanted, the pastor's job. The pastor, whom I'll call pastor T, was about 60 years old. Within a few weeks of Mr. Charming's arrival, rumors started circulating about Pastor T's health, even though he was an avid runner and cyclist, and that he just didn't seem to be as mentally sharp as he used to be. This was strange because he frequently quoted long Bible passages, entirely from memory without mistaking a single word. Worst of all, however, was the accusation that pastor T was too liberal for the church. In my denomination, it is the kiss of death to even be suspected of being a liberal. None of these accusations made any sense, but people kept talking about them. I have no idea why pastor T didn't find out. Or maybe he did find out and was just too scared to do anything about it. Each church calls the minister. This guarantees that every pastor always walks a razor's edge, the slightest slip and you're out. You don't even have to slip. Maybe, like pastor T, some creep just lies about you and gets your job. And since the church owned his house, his entire family was suddenly homeless. Then I became a target. I still don't know why. A couple of months after starting to work for my church, Mr. Charming called me and informed me that my services were no longer needed at youth choir, children's church, bus ministry, anywhere. In fact, he said he did not even want me to participate in any of these functions at all. Not even go to the Sunday morning worship service. I later found out that members of his family had been hired by the church, at very nice rates of pay, to perform these functions that I'd been doing for free. His wife got paid more for playing a beat-up piano than the main pianist got paid for playing at more gatherings. This lady radiated bitterness, resentment and repressed anger. But she rarely said anything. She just sat there and glared, which was somehow even creepier than when she spoke. I was very hurt, emotionally, so I dropped by pastor T's office, and tearfully asked him what I'd done wrong. I couldn't get a straight answer, except he told me that, people are saying things about me and that if I wanted to get a good recommendation from him, I'd better shut up and do what I'm told. So, I started asking all of my church friends what people were saying about me. Everyone, everyone, said, well, I didn't want to tell you, and I don't believe it, but here's what I heard. According to the rumor mill, I had gotten my girlfriend pregnant and forced her to have an abortion, I hadn't even had a girlfriend. And I'd been arrested for possession of marijuana and my dad had to pay a bunch of money to hush it up, while I didn't even know what pot looked like. There were other rumors, but you get the idea. I did what pastor T told me to. I never darkened the door of that church again. Except once, months later. It hurt like hell. I devoted my life to that church since I was a little kid. But I had to have pastor T's recommendation to get into the minister's school I wanted to go to, and the pain was unbearable just driving by there. So I decided to keep my distance. But I started thinking about Mr. Charming. Anyone who was that evil had to have a past, and it probably wasn't a good one. I knew that, just before working for my church, he had worked at a large church, in the same denomination, in a small town about 50 miles away. That church was actually about twice the size of my church. So he had moved from a big church to the same job at a smaller church. A bad career move? Running away from something? Yes, there was something rotten in Denmark. And it smelled like an opportunity for me. As luck would have it, one of my uncles, and his family, lived in that same small town, although none of my family attended Mr. Charming's former church. So I called one of my cousins, told her my story, and enlisted her as a co-conspirator. I'll call her Ann. The next Sunday morning, Ann and I attended Sunday school and morning worship at Mr. Charming's old church. Although Ann had never been a member of that church, it was a small town where everyone knew everyone, so she knew most of the people there. She started asking about Mr. Charming, and got an earful. Every one of her friends said that Mr. Charming was a world-class creep. He would flirt with, and even make suggestive comments to all of the girls in the youth group, even those in junior high. He was 40-plus years old and had a wife and three children of his own. And then there was the touching. Never anything obvious or illegal. But he loved to put his hands all over the young ladies, whenever their parents weren't around. But, just like at my former church, the adults loved him because he kept the youth in line. Our investigation went on for several weeks. I kept a low profile so as not to arouse suspicion. Mostly, I just stood around, ate donuts, drank coffee, and talked about football. Ann did most of the work because she knew so many people and it was perfectly natural for her to attend this church in her hometown. After church was over, we would go to her house, have a delicious Sunday lunch cooked by my aunt, and then write down everything we had learned. By then, Ann's whole family were in on my investigation. They were as angry as I was about the way I'd been treated, and our weekly report made interesting lunchtime conversation. Within a few weeks, I was sure that all I had to do was drive a few of these young ladies, and their parents, down to my old church, let them tell their stories to the parents of a few girls in the youth group, and Mr. Charming would become Mr. Unemployed. But it kept getting better and better, so Ann and I kept digging. And I really wanted to keep a low profile if I could, because I didn't want to piss off Pastor T any more than I had to. Because he could easily ruin my ministerial career before it even started. Finally, after a month or so, Ann grabbed me by the sleeve and said, You've got to hear this. She introduced me to a well-dressed, very large guy, maybe 30 to 35 years old. I'll call him Fred. We slipped off into a Sunday school room where we would not be overheard. It turned out that Mr. Charming had had a multi-year affair with Fred's wife. Fred had kept his cool when he found out, talked with a lawyer and had spent months gathering evidence. Text messages, voice mails, emails, even photos and videos with Fred's wife and Mr. Charming in them. Apparently, Mr. Charming got stimulated by watching videos of himself doing the wild thing with Fred's wife. Then Mr. Charming would send the videos to Fred's wife and they both would have cyber-sexy time while texting each other. Later, they would hook up the old-fashioned way and make more videos. Finally, Fred confronted his wife. She denied everything, but the evidence was just too much. Fred told her he wanted a divorce, full custody of the children, their house, his retirement money, his business, her engagement and wedding rings, everything, even the dog. She hired a lawyer, but laws and courts being what they are in this rural Bible Belt County, her lawyer told her that if the judge saw the videos, she'd be lucky if she ended up in a homeless shelter with all of her worldly possessions under her bonkin and garbage sack. Then Fred turned his attention to Mr. Charming. Fred still sincerely loved his wife, and he was convinced that Mr. Charming had deliberately ruined his marriage. Taking Mr. Charming to court, suing him for loss of consortium and otherwise making him legally miserable would take too long. This is the rural deep south. Many people around here prefer a more direct approach. In rural counties, the police and any jury of your peers will probably include people who have known you since kindergarten. So, if you have good reasons for your actions and you aren't too stupid about it, there are things that you can do. Fred scheduled an appointment with Mr. Charming in his church office, who did not suspect a thing because Fred was a deacon and his children were in the church youth group. Remember that I said Fred was big? Six foot six at least, 300 pounds, and if there was an inch of fat on him, he hit it well. Looked like he could pull up a 100-foot oak tree by the roots without breaking a sweat. Fred told me that he brought several friends with him, and of course, the videos. One friend blocked the door. Another unplugged the phone. A third one stood behind Mr. Charming and encouraged him to stay seated in his chair. Fred made Mr. Charming watch about 10 minutes of one of the videos. Then calmly said, I'm going to stand here and watch you pack up your stuff, then you're going to walk out of this building and never show your ass in this town again, or we'll be back. Mr. Charming did as he was told. A month later, he had a new job at another church, my old church, and started ruining another whole set of lives, including mine. Fred actually did not know where Mr. Charming had gone. He had been led to believe that Mr. Charming had moved out of state. He was surprised, gratified and angered, to learn that this scumbag was only 50 miles away. This had all happened just a few months before. Fred was still deeply in love with his wife. They were getting counseling and he hoped that they could save his marriage. But his hatred of Mr. Charming was still fulminating, and had been reignited by me telling him that Mr. Charming was living and working less than an hour away from his wife. He presented such a face of restrained rage and vindictiveness that it scared me, and I wasn't even the one he was mad at. The next day, Monday, I drove back up there and gave him a copy of the directory of my old church. It had home addresses, phone numbers and email addresses for pretty much every member of the church. I showed him the pages that listed all of the deacons and other church leaders. And I marked some of the church's major financial donors. I explained my situation with Pastor T and asked that my name not be mentioned. No problem, he said. The next Sunday, I could not resist visiting my old church to see how things were going. Mr. Charming was nowhere to be seen, nor was any explanation given about what had happened to him. One weird thing though, Pastor T looked scared shitless. His voice, usually resonant, loud and almost musically baritone, trembled during the whole sermon. I slipped in just before the service started and made a point of sitting in the very front row, sent her pew. The look on his face when he saw me was worth all of my trouble. I didn't know it at the time, but Fred had gotten right to work and done a very thorough job. The whole church had gotten multiple anonymous emails with photos and videos of Mr. Charming and Fred's wife in various compromising positions. Deacons and major donors got emails plus express mail packages just for good measure. Mr. Charming and Pastor T had been left out, they didn't know anything until the phone calls started pouring in. After the worship service, it did not take long for my church friends to figure out why I was there. It was very gratifying. I was something of a hero, although I kept swearing that I had no idea what they were talking about. Things continued to blow up in my former church for months afterwards. Both Pastor T and the pastor of Mr. Charming's Old Church almost lost their jobs, because they had lied to my old church's committee of Deacons, who had recommended hiring Mr. Charming, about why Mr. Charming had left his old job. But somehow they managed to stay in the pulpits at their churches, although a lot of church members left my former church, which caused some financial problems. There was talk of legal action for sending unsolicited porn to little old ladies and other people in the church. But nobody ever was able to prove that Fred did it. I don't think they tried very hard. After all, his wife was in the videos and photos. Both churches really did not want this to become a court case, because of Mr. Charming's adventures, and the fact that he had spent a year screwing a Deacons wife while he had unlimited, unsupervised access to dozens of church youth, would then become a matter of public record. So they hushed it up. I never saw Pastor T again. I had lost all of the love, trust and respect that I had had for him, and I was sure that he had figured out that I was somehow connected to the whole fiasco. So my chances of having a preaching career were precisely zero. By that time, being a pastor, like Pastor T, was the last thing I wanted anyway. I withdrew my application to minister's school, and eventually completed a doctorate in archaeology at a different grad school, graduated with honors, at a large, widely respected state university. I've been teaching at a large, public university in the Midwest of the USA, with summer gigs on archaeological digs in Europe. One last, very gratifying event, the reason for me sharing this, all that happened six to seven years ago. Fast forward to last March. I went to pick up a friend at a large downtown urban bus station in the US. Everyone hates this place. Not only is it crowded, it is poorly maintained and filthy. It smells like spoiled garbage mixed with diesel exhaust and seldom cleaned public restrooms. My friend's bus was late. I stopped by the news stand to get myself a soda and candy bar. Who do you think was restocking the shelves? Mr. Charming. I just sat across from the news stand and enjoyed my drink and snack. He recognized me, then turned away. I just sat and watched him, restocking shelves full of porno magazines and junk food. Revenge is a feast that is best enjoyed cold. Thank you for enjoying this episode, which was made with artificial love. Subscribe or give me some sugar by smashing the like button. Royal AI, would love to hear your experience or what you think of these stories in the comment section.