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"Do you have any proof?"

This took place in a golf tournament I was playing in a few years ago.

There was a long drive contest on the 18th hole. The way a long drive competition works in a tournament is there is a little marker with a pad of paper on it out in the fairway. If you hit your ball in the fairway past the marker, you sign the paper, and place the marker next to where your ball was. It’s an honor system sort of thing, but then again, that’s golf for you.

I was in the second-to-last group, one of my good friends was in the group behind me. I step up to the tee, tee up, and free the beast all over that golf ball. By some fluke, it ends up drawing down the right side of the fairway. I crushed this thing. Based on yardage left, I hit this ball a little over 330 yards. I had the previous long drive beat by almost 20 yards. I happily signed the marker, and put it next to my ball.

After I finished the hole, I walked off the green, and watched the foursome behind us tee off and play the hole in. You know, waiting for my friend, and to see if anybody beat my drive. Now, the men’s tee box that we were supposed to play from was on the left side of the hole, and the ladies was 40 or so yards up and on the right side of the hole. I saw one of the guys tee up from the ladies tee, hit his drive, walk up, sign the marker, and move it to his ball. That sh*t ain’t right.

They finish the hole, and my friend comes up to me and confirms my suspicions. This chucklef*ck had hit from the ladies tee and taken my long drive. He beat me by two yards. I went up to the a**hole, and had this conversation with him.

Me: “Are you really going to take that drive?”
Him: “Yep.”
Me: “That’s cheating, chief. You didn’t win.”
Him: “Do you have any proof?”

Well, f*ck. It’s his word against mine. The other guys in his foursome are his friends. My jimmies are at maximum overrustle.

We go to the post-tournament dinner. Sure enough, when they call the long drive winner up, this smug f*cknut goes up and collects his (my) $50 Tim Hortons gift card.

Oh, but what’s this? He dropped something when he stood up. It’s his door prize raffle ticket. It’s number 77. Well, I’m just going to take this, you know, for my troubles. I lean over in my chair, and snag it off the floor.

An hour later, we’re at the final prize. It’s the door prize draw. The prize? A $1000 MasterCard prepaid gift card. The MC rifles through the drum with the tickets. The universe must have been on my side that day, because the MC pulls out a ticket, and speaks into the microphone.

“The winner of the MasterCard prepaid card is… Ticket 77.”

A**hole McTerribleperson loses his sh*t. He’s jumping up and down, yelling “I won I won I won ohmygod I won!”

He runs up to the front to the MC, who then asks for the winning ticket.

F*ckface sticks his hand in his back pocket. Then his other back pocket. Then the side pockets. His face looks like he just watched his dog just get run over. Repeatedly.

I’m crazy excited at this point, but I make a show of checking my ticket. Then I hold up the ticket and call out,

“I got it!”

I run up to the front, and give it to the MC.

Douchebag McGee isn’t happy about this. He starts yelling about how I stole his ticket and ticket 77 was totally his and I’m a cheater and a liar.

I look him dead in the eyes, and ask him deadpan “do you have any proof?”
He looks like he’s about to cry. The MC sends him to sit down, and I collect the $1000 dollar gift card.

Because I’m the type to salt the wound, as I leave, I walk past his table, and say quietly to him “Enjoy your Tim card. You deserve it.”

Pretty sure he popped a blood vessel. But I didn’t stick around to find out. I had beers to buy for my friends.

Petty Revenge: Internet`s best petty revenge stories are here. | credit

anonymous asked:

Not sure if you're a fan of superwave if not then no need to fill, but superwave meeting up after a long time maybe with some hurt/comfort thrown in?

its a ship i’m on the fence about but honestly, i pretty much love mick with anyone who’ll be sweet with him and hold him tight.

Keep reading

“Not just another merch girl” - Oliver Sykes imagine

As promised, a new Oli Sykes imagine for you lovely readers :)

I changed some details but I hope you’ll like it anyway! (Also Oli is 28 so it makes it a 10 years difference and not 13 ^^)

“Hey Y/N, need some help carrying all these boxes?” Oli asked from behind me.

“No thank you, it’s not that heavy anyway!” I thanked him as I put the box on the floor next to the ones I had already unloaded.

I was the merch girl for the band Bring Me The Horizon, and it seemed like my job actually meant carrying dozens of boxes from a truck to a venue, and then from the venue back into the truck. One night I even dreamed that I was lost in a labyrinth of cardboard boxes full of tee-shirts, posters and wristbands.

The boxes were quite heavy, but I was used to carrying them without complaining. That’s why I always rejected Oliver’s offers to help me. Well, no. To be honest, it wasn’t the only reason. Sure I wanted to prove the guys that I could do my job without help and that they had made a good choice when hiring me.

To be honest, I had started developing feelings for him as soon as the tour started: he was a nice guy, always offering to help me or making sure I was okay, not to mention that he was also very attractive. I tried to forget about these feelings and just do my job. But being teased about Oli by everybody in the BMTH crew – and even by the guys themselves sometimes – definitely wasn’t helping.

I had just been asked to bring some chairs back from a closet to the merch table. I was walking through the corridor when I heard laughing coming from behind the door of the green room.

“So Oli, anything new between you and Y/N?” Jordan asked him, not knowing I was just walking by the room.

I stopped dead in my track and waited silently by the door, trying to hear more of this conversation.

“What?” Oli asked bluntly.

“Seriously man, you’re always by the merch table for any reason.” Matt started.

“What’s become so interesting about carrying boxes suddenly?” Lee added teasingly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about guys, she’s just another merch girl! And there are plenty of other girls out there anyway.” He snapped and left the room suddenly.

I turned around quickly and started walking toward the closed, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. Tears welled up from my eyes as the words sank in. Shes just another merch girl. There are plenty of other girls out there. A hand on my shoulder stopped me from going any farther though.

“Y/N…” Oli started.

“What?!” I snapped without even turning around.

“You- you heard what we just said?” He asked, stuttering.

“Yes I did, thank you. No need to remind me of that.” I cut him off.

I couldn’t believe it! How could I have thought for one second that I had a chance with him? I was a 18-year-old merch girl, dreaming of a famous, successful singer who was 10 years older than me. How stupid of me.

“What do you want?” I turned around abruptly to look at him.

“Y/N let me explain-” He began but I cut him off.

“What, Oliver?!” I asked again.

“Please Y/N, give me 5 minutes to explain myself.” He pleaded. I nodded, letting him continue. “Let’s go somewhere quieter to talk then.”

He took my hand in his and led me to another room. I sat on the couch that was in the corner of the room while he closed the door and sat next to me. He took a deep breath before speaking up.

“What you heard me telling the guys, it’s not true. It’s actually the opposite of the truth.” He started.

“Really? You sounded quite convinced though.” I couldn’t help but sound bitter.

“Please, believe me. The guys tease me non-stop about you, and I think they do the same with you. I just wanted them to leave me alone! I know that you don’t feel the same and it already hurts enough.” He looked down at his feet.

“What- what do you mean, I don’t feel the same?” I asked curious.

“Well obviously you just see me as a friend.” He stated.

“And what about you?” I inquired.

He fidgeted with his hands without looking at me, not saying a word. I cleared my throat and he finally looked at me.

“I love you, Y/N.” He blurted out.

“You- you love me?” I was dumbfounded.

“Yes I do, and that’s why it pains me to see that you don’t care, that you reject me every time I try to talk to you or help you. And the guys don’t help by teasing me either.” He explained.

“And why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“It’d have been useless since you don’t love me anyway.” He turned away.

“And what if I really like you, too?” I smiled shyly.

“Really?!” He looked up quickly. “So it means that you feel the same?”

“Yes I do. And me rejecting your help was just a way to try and stop the guys from teasing me too.” I explained. “Also, I’m a bit scared to be honest.”

“About what? Do you think I’m lying? Because I can promise you that I’m not!”

“But what about the age difference then? You’re 28 while I’m only 18, that’s 10 years Oliver!” I explained. “What are people going to think about us? You’re famous, successful and adored by millions of fans, while I’m just nothing.”

“It doesn’t matter! I don’t care about what people think or say, I just care about us Y/N.” He took my hands in his and traced circles with his thumb over the back of my hand. “Do you believe me? It doesn’t matter.”

I nodded, trying hard to believe him.

“Will you give me a chance Y/N? Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked hopefully.

“Yes. Yes I will, Oliver.” I grinned from ear to ear.

His smile only grew wider when I answered. He took a strand of hair that has fallen over my eyes and placed it carefully behind my ear. We stayed in a comfortable silence, just looking into each other’s eyes and smiling.

“So I’m not just another merch girl then?” I asked playfully.

“You’re so much more than that Y/N.” He whispered as he placed his index finger under my chin.

Our faces get closer and our lips final met, the contact sending sparks in our bodies. Our lips kept on moving against the others, until the door opened abruptly and revealed Jordan carrying a pile of boxes.

“Y/N we need you to- wow!” He exclaimed as he caught the two of us kissing lovingly. “Lee, I won my bet, you owe me 10 bucks!” He shouted as he left the room laughing.

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