Drunk In Charge of Pizza Here's a sordid tale of revenge. As a quasi-manager of three pizza restaurants, I was rotated wherever the service needed improvement, closed nightly, and all for the princely sum of $4.25 an hour. Well after a year-and-a-half of promises that I would get my own store (being only 19, I didn't realize how unlikely that was), I finally had it.
I began draining the keg at nights, making myself pizzas whenever I felt like it, feeding the homeless, etc. You get the picture. This of course was only after repeated pleas to the owner, who always said "Don't worry, you'll be next. You're my best worker! I want you to be a manager. Look how much you help me now. Blah Blah." This from a guy who refused to pay us overtime, by threatening us with firing or hour-cutting if we demanded it. Good thing he had a bunch of kids working for him, except for the management.
One night, the newest manager to be brought in from outside and placed in a position of authority above me made a nasty smart-ass comment that was the straw that broke the camel's back. I walked out and I took the three other best, most-experienced workers with me. The business closed within the week - all four stores in the metro area. The owner took what cash he could and fled the country, to this day I believe the corporate folks are still looking for him.