Revenge, sweet but not at all fattening
Before I emigrated to Sunny Sydney i used to run pubs in Dull Hull. One of which was right near the marina. A really quiet little boozer opposite the fruit market that was earmarked for knocking down when the area was to be renovated. (Its still there, Hull council are soooo very efficient).
Anyhoo, I had dramas there. the place had had 4 landlords a year for the past 3 yrs and I went in with the attitude that I could do so much better as the other guys had all been young idiots that had treated the place as a free booze shop for them and their drug taking hullscum mates.
The company that owned the pub were quite small and only owned 5 pubs, and as I had just left a large national comapny I thought it would be nice to be a big fish in a small pond for once. WRONG!
So to the pub. Gotta love the patrons. S-C-U-M. think of the worst type of chavster dickhead and treble it, then add Wayne Rooney. Awful terrible burberry clad idiots. Except on Band nights where the local bikers came down and the burberrys all disappeared. That is except one memorable night when the chavs stayed in "cos its our boozer innit?" and i professionally presided over what the Hull Daily Mail cheerfully described as a "wild west style bar room brawl" before the rozzers came round and arrested 30 blokes and 5 women.
So I got rid of the dickheads, the bikers, the band nights, and started quiz nights, comedy nights and singles nights. The takings remained constant and repair bills, police calls and the smell of despair around the place all decreased markedly.
3 months after i took over I am summoned to the office, the managing director says he has had a complaint about me. He tells me that a guy has written to the office and said I called him a fuckwit and had physically assaulted him and then thrown him onto the street. I laughed and told him i had, but was comfortable as this guy had tried dealing E's in the toilets. I had punched him and flushed his stash, then kicked him out. I settled back waiting for the pat on the back, when my managing director told me he was sacking me, as I hadn't passed my 3 month probation due to this incident. I ahd an hour to clear my stuff out of the pub and unscrew my name plate from above the door.
Nice
In the next few days, I asked around and it turns out the filthy chav is rooting the financial directors daughter, so I embarked on the best revenge mission of my life. Firstly, I rang the tax office and told them that both directors went around the 5 pubs on a Sunday lunchtime and creamed an average of 200quid from each till. (this was true) and that I had been actively encouraged to water down spirits and beer by them as it was "company practice".
They were investigated by HM customs and excise and both fined 10k each and deemed unfit to be directors of any business for 2 years apiece.
Then, and this is the best... I sneaked around to both of their Fisher Price Mansions, and superglued Cornflake boxes to the outside of them ("baffling vandalism on Village estate" - Hull Daily Mail). Then I emigrated, and am now earning fortune and have a lovely tan. Fuck em
(airliebird Has now found Twiglets in Sydney!!!!!!! yay!, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 0:56, Reply)