Maybe more like revenge...
..But it gave me the most guilty pleasure I'd actually confess to.

To fund a return to HE in the mid 90s I took a security related job in a government secure facility. I'm keeping the details deliberately vague to protect the innocent, or to be more accurate, me. The victims were big blokes and this is a comparatively small island.

My job was to make sure the builders who were working on upgrading aforesaid facility got up to no mischief, didn't leave powertools lying round for grateful inmates to find etc etc.

After a while, partly because of some of my female colleagues who had strong motherly instincts, the builders came to expect we security type bods to have their kettle all filled up and boiling for them when they came back to the main compound for their tea breaks.

This didn't really bother me, if I was on duty in that area I'd normally have the water on for them anyway just because I was bored and had nothing better to do. There were about 20 of them and so it was this huge battered thing they used, which took about 10 minutes to boil. So if it wasn't bunged on in advance, they spent their whole tea break watching it boil then had to dash down a scalding cup of tea before dashing off back to work.

So the one time no-one was there to do it they got very upset, and as I was in that area I ended up sitting through 10 minutes of unwarranted grief. Builders take tea more seriously than the rest of us.

I wasn't in the best of moods anyway as it was a shitty job and these idiots continually made it worse with their keystone kops organisational skills. So when they had gone and the compound was empty I filled the kettle with as much piss as I could muster and then topped it up with water. When they came back for lunch I had it boiling away nicely, and made a big show of regretting not having had it ready for their morning break.
Sitting in the portacabin with them as they all drank my hot tannin-laced piss, it was only the thought that one of them might detect the unusual taste, leading to my bloody violent death, that stopped me choking with laughter. I had a big smile for the rest of the day though.

Thankfully the water was minging anyway, so I got away with it. One of my colleagues drank it too, which I would have felt bad about if he hadn't been an ex-policeman.
(spiky_budgie, Thu 7 Apr 2005, 16:37, Reply)