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This is a question Spoilt Brats

Mr Newton sighs, "ever known anyone so spoilt you would love to strangle? I lived with a Paris Hilton-a-like who complained about everything, stomped her feet and whinged till she got her way. There was a happy ending though: she had to drop out of uni due to becoming pregnant after a one night stand..."

Who's the spoiltest person you've met? Has karma come to bite them yet? Or did you in fact end up strangling them? Uncle B3ta (and the serious crimes squad) wants to know.

(, Thu 9 Oct 2008, 14:11)
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Some years ago
I had about 10 months of unemployment, back in the days of REAL recession, not this namby-pamby bankers-running out-of-cash-because-they-are-all-useless-wankers type of recession, but I digress.
I offered to assist in my local secondary school in the CDT department and jolly glad they were to have me (me being a Rolls-Royce trained toolmaker and all).
I had absolutely no trouble with the kids except one who I shall call Kevin, for that was his name.
Kevin would do no work. Not a tap. He wouldn't reply to his name on the register on purpose so he could get his mates to back him up as present when the teachers reported him as absent. Every time he was chastised his reply was "I'll tell my dad you touched me and you'll be fired, he's one of the governors" so the teachers left him alone.
One day he was farting about and saw me showing a couple of the eager students how an oxy-acetylene torch worked. He pushed his way in to the group and said "Gimme that" and tried to snatch it from me. I fended him off and said "Careful, this is hot". He started screaming "It's MY turn it's MY turn", I told him to get out of my face. He then put the same old tired line "I'll tell my dad you etc etc."
After the lesson was over I plotted with the teachers how to make him be a useful citizen (other than by culling the twat and selling his organs). Luckily I was also a governor of the school and knew his father (a decent bloke but one who spent too much time working and left the childrearing to his useless weak lump of a wife). Having primed his dad with the latest of his son's escapades I was given carte blanche to "Put the fear of God in him, if you can".
The next lesson was arranged so I'd get Kevin alone. In his typical way he'd not replied to the register, smirking all the time.
We retired to the "hot room" where all the burny things were.
Once the doors were firmly shut I turned to him with a lit gas axe in my hand and said "RIGHT YOU LITTLE SHIT, I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU, TIME TO DIE!" and pressed the extra oxygen lever, shooting a jet of flame over his head. Advancing toward the now trembling, sobbing 15 year old DNA waste I almost inaudibly whispered
"You didn't register, you're not here so I can do EXACTLY what I like to you and no-one will know".
He pissed himself in fear.
I opened the door and paraded him before his classmates.
"He's scared of the flames, somebody take him to get cleaned up".
A huge braying cheer came from his classmates (15 year olds have NO sympathy) and he was henceforth known as "Pissy Kevin". People used to flick lighters at him and throw matches to see if he'd piss himself again through the rest of his school life.

I wish I felt bad about this.

But I don't.
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 16:09, 23 replies)
You fantastic man!

Such wonderful contrast to your stories of loveliness from last week :D
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 16:13, closed)
and then clicks.
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 16:15, closed)
I don't feel bad either.
In fact I clicked.
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 16:18, closed)


but um...

Surely the dad may have thought you'd taken things too far?
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 16:21, closed)
He DID ask me why his son had soiled his uniform. Over a beer I told him from the perspective of a non-teacher (I.E someone he couldn't fire) just exactly what his son had been up to in the months I'd been at the CDT class. He'd been getting a bowdlerised version from the mother and none of the teachers would actively report the little shit. Remember, this was in the early days of non-competetive sports days (WTF!) and no "failures" in subjects, just "working towards" marks.
Kevin actually turned into a nice guy, once the useless weak mother had left the scene and the dad had to do some solid parenting instead of hiding at work.
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 16:35, closed)
I'm not quite sure I believe this
but it's a cracking story anyway.
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 16:27, closed)
Trust me,
I've met him.
I can believe this.
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 16:28, closed)
trust you?

(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 16:31, closed)
Fair enough.
The right-on liberal in me thinks he went a wee bit too far, but the B3tan in me wants to piss itself laughing and give this man a high-five.
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 16:32, closed)
Listen to the b3tan!
My summary of Captain Placid is thus:

He looks like a blacksmith should do, he has some excellent stories, and we played a song together at a pub gig in the Midlands.
And he's awesome.
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 16:35, closed)
Thanks Kaol, anyone who'll get up in an unknown pub and sing with no rehearsal in front of strangers has more cojones than me!
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 16:37, closed)
Oh Kaol has cojones all right.

(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 21:28, closed)
I too will vouch for the Captain.
I've only met him once, but I can definitely see him doing this.

Well done, Captain. The schools need more teachers like you.
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 17:13, closed)
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 16:48, closed)
It's even better...

When the story is told to your face...with his expressions changing from 'mild mannered, patches-on-the-elbows' type to 'slavering, sadistic maniac'

Ah, how I laughed...and trembled a bit.

(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 17:01, closed)
This is great!
I've met so many variants of that kid, both at work and when I was actualy a kid myself, and I've prayed that something like this would happen to them! You're a bloody genius!
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 17:18, closed)
You bad man. I love it!
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 18:18, closed)
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 18:52, closed)
You utter bastard
Have a click ;-)
(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 20:14, closed)
Huzzah! Clickety-click etc
If you get another, please transfer to woodwork so you can feed the canute into a circular saw.

Pretty please.

(, Mon 13 Oct 2008, 21:18, closed)
reminds me
of my sculpture tech Scott back in the day. Did not suffer fools and loved burny things...and watching fools burn themselves.

(, Tue 14 Oct 2008, 6:53, closed)
Hang on a minute
Is your real name Hagrid? and is Kevin's real name Malfoy?

EDIT: Have just re-read your (alledged) dealing with another spoiled brat from your 'best of' page. I recommend it to anyone with an (alledgedly) sound sense of common justice.
(, Tue 14 Oct 2008, 14:04, closed)
*wipes tear from eye*
awesome :D
(, Wed 15 Oct 2008, 8:03, closed)

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