This is taking revenge to a more extreme place that my previous attempts. There's real malice in this one. You're taking shellfish and hiding it in someone's home, with the knowledge that when it starts to go off, the stench will be pretty close to unbearable.
The guy who had sex with my ex before she was my ex.
I don't want to come off sounding like a mentally fractured Maury guest. It's not that I despised this guy for having sex with my girlfriend. I didn't like him for it much either, though. And since I couldn't get revenge on her, because she currently lives in Korea and is pretending to be a decent human, I figured this guy would work, because he keeps inviting me to parties and I can walk to his house from here. You ever walk to Korea? It's ridiculous far.
Just before Christmas is a magical time for vengeance, because people willingly invite you into their homes and shrimp is usually on sale, sometimes even with tangy sauce included. I bought a shrimp ring that had no sauce, because I'm cheap. No one even questions you bringing the shrimp ring into the party because you're just a guy who brought a lame-ass gift.
"Mmm, your breath smells like low tide and anus. This party is great."
The hardest part of this whole thing is patience. You can try to hide the shrimp right away, but you really should resist the urge. With a house full of people, it's not going to be easy to find good spots. Sure, you can drop them behind the couch or in drawers, but that shit is lame. You want to put the shrimp inside curtain rods, behind air vents, and inside framed pictures. Whenever possible, the best place to hide it is a place that requires a tool to access, because when you're looking for a new stink in your home, you're going to assume that it came from something that fell on your floor and look in places like under the couch and behind chairs. No one ever looks in framed photos of family for shellfish. That's insane.
To address the elephant in the room, yes, I hid shrimp in framed photos. I had to wait until about 5 a.m. to get enough time alone to do it, but I did. Also in a bottle of shampoo, the exhaust fans in both the kitchen and the bathroom, inside a clock, and, for kicks, I took the plate off of a light switch and tossed some into the wall.
Since we're not super close, I was not consulted about the aftermath; however, based on a string of posts on Facebook, I was able to discern that the house smells like a corpse and he doesn't seem to enjoy it. Ha.
#1. The Homoerotic Workday
Homosexuality, even today, makes a lot of heterosexuals uncomfortable. It's been a part of our culture for so long that "gay" means "insulting" or "weird," and it carries a certain weight. And while you can be totally comfortable with gay people around you, the insinuation that you may be gay can take some people by surprise. So if you fill someone's computer with gay porn, well then that's just really surprising.
Gary, the guy who sucks at my job.
I don't spend all day on a computer writing comedy. I have to go to work and get on a computer there and just slowly give my soul away, too. And at the office where this occurs is a fellow named Gary, who is such an asshole. It's not his real name, so I can say that about him without fear of reprisal. Gary is your typical workplace brown-noser who has the atypical habit of stealing work and/or credit for work whenever he can get away with it. All the girls hate him. Me, too.
I decided that Gary would probably appreciate gay porn on his computer, but then I thought that that was unfair to gay people. Gay people don't deserve Gary anyway. Plus I think that may be illegal. However, a series of increasingly homoerotic images to suggest not that Gary spends all his time at work looking at men humping so much as Gary just really longs to be hugged by shirtless firefighters seemed like a good idea. Maybe Gary's email signature should include a homoerotic gif. Maybe lots of guys in locker rooms should be his wallpaper. Maybe his computer should be queued to play "It's Raining Men."
Being the kind of guy Gary is, I was confident that this would make him uncomfortable, and also let him know that his terrible password "starwars123" has been on a Post-it in his top drawer for like a year, so his computer is less secure than his sexuality.
Gary caught me after about five minutes. My explanation that I confusedly thought it was my computer and I was just looking for wrestling photos for my own amusement fell on deaf ears.
Since I hadn't actually managed to sabotage Gary's computer, I got away with an official reprimand from my boss and some glances that suggested HR would not approve of any follow-up questions for fear of a civil rights incident.
My hasty plan B included emailing Gary numerous photos of men in various states of undress asking him if he, as a man, felt that I could develop a workout regimen that would help me attain the same physical results, and if so, what might I need to do to maintain my physique. The gifs were all sent with questions about where he suspected they came from. It was a hollow victory, but he did block my email.