MY ROOMMATE KEPT STEALING MY CHARGER—SO I MADE HIS PHONE MOAN IN A MEETING AND GOT HIM FIRED

Jake spent the next two hours in a state of pure panic. Alex kept me updated via text.

“He’s in the Manager’s office,” Alex wrote. “I can hear muffled yelling. He’s trying to explain it’s a ‘malware attack.’ The Manager looks like he’s ready to fire him into the sun.”

Jake eventually came back to his desk, looking like he’d aged ten years. He left his phone plugged into the wall, afraid to touch it. But nature eventually called. Jake had to use the restroom. He looked at the phone, then at the door. He decided to leave the phone charging at his desk, figuring it was safe as long as it stayed plugged in.

This is where the universe decided to assist my revenge.

A group of high-level clients—the kind of people who pay for the entire company’s Christmas bonuses—arrived early for their afternoon presentation. The Manager walked them into the office. One of the clients, a very dignified woman in her 60s, noticed a phone left unattended on a desk with a cable trailing across the floor.

Thinking she was being helpful and preventing a tripping hazard, she reached down and... unplugged it.

The moaning didn't just start; it reverberated. In the open-plan office, the sound echoed off the glass walls. It was louder this time. More aggressive.

Down the hall, in the men’s room, Jake heard it.

Alex told me he had never seen a human move so fast. Jake burst out of the bathroom doors. He hadn't even finished buckling his belt. His shirt was half-untucked, his fly was partially open, and he was sprinting down the hallway like an Olympic athlete with a serious wardrobe malfunction.

He dove—literally dove—over a cubicle wall to get to his desk. He knocked over a tray of muffins. He slid across the floor and jammed the charger back into the phone just as the Manager and the VIP clients stared at him in absolute, horrified silence.

Jake stood there, panting, disheveled, holding a moaning phone that had finally gone quiet.

The Manager didn't even wait for an explanation this time. He just pointed at the exit. “Get your things. Security will escort you out.”

Jake was fired. Not just fired—blacklisted. Hannah blocked him on everything before he even left the building. HR sent out a company-wide memo about "appropriate device usage" within an hour.

That evening, I was sitting on the couch when the door opened. Jake walked in. He looked like a man who had just survived a shipwreck. He saw me, and he saw the boxes I had already started packing.

He looked at his phone, then at me. The realization finally hit him.

“You,” he whispered.

“Me,” I said calmly.

I expected him to swing at me. I expected him to scream. But what happened next was something I never could have predicted.