My MIL and Her Friends Devoured Our $1000 Wedding Cake the Evening Before Our Wedding, So I Decided to Teach Her a Lesson

I was heartbroken and furious when I discovered my mother-in-law Linda and her friends had devoured my $1000 wedding cake. I couldn’t believe they would intentionally ruin my special day, leaving only crumbs behind. But I was determined to teach them a lesson, and hence, my revenge plan began to take shape.

“No way I’m paying. It’s too expensive for something that tasted disgusting, JUST LIKE YOUR TASTE IN EVERYTHING,” Linda sneered, barely glancing at me.

I stood frozen in my living room doorway, grocery bags slipping from my hands.

I could feel the tears welling up as I took in the scene.

My beautiful wedding cake, the one I had saved for months to afford, was gone. Only crumbs and a half-eaten slice remained on the table while Linda and her friends lounged on the couch, looking pleased with themselves.

“Linda, how could you?” I choked out as I approached the empty box. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

“That cake was for my wedding, Linda! It cost a thousand dollars! How will I replace it so soon?” I asked angrily.

“Oh, please, Emily,” Linda rolled her eyes. “It was just a cake. And honestly, it wasn’t even that good!”

“But it was important to me!” I snapped, tears streaming down my face. “You had no right to touch it!”

“Get over it, Emily,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a cake, and it’s not like you have good taste in anything anyway.”

Linda and her friends exchanged amused glances before slowly getting up. “We’re leaving. But don’t expect any money from me,” she said smugly.

As they sauntered out, leaving a trail of crumbs and laughter behind them, I sank to the floor. My shoulders shook with silent sobs. The wedding was less than a day away, and now my beautiful cake was ruined.

Linda had never liked me because she wanted Alex to marry someone rich. From the moment we met, her disdain was evident. She constantly found reasons to belittle and undermine me, criticizing my choices, style, and personality at every opportunity.

But this… this was too much!

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

I couldn’t let this ruin everything. I had worked too hard and come too far to let Linda’s spiteful actions destroy my wedding. I wiped my tears and stood up.

First, I needed to call the bakery. Maybe, just maybe, they could make another cake in time. I grabbed my phone and dialed the number, praying they’d have good news.

But I was met with disappointment. No bakery was ready to take my order.

It was then that Sarah’s name popped into my head. I grabbed my phone and called her.

Sarah was not only my best friend and maid of honor but also an amazing baker. If anyone could help me, it was her.

“What? How dare she?” Sarah exclaimed as I told her everything. “Don’t worry, Emily, I’m coming over. We’ll fix this, okay?”

When Sarah walked into my kitchen that afternoon, she immediately gave me a hug. “We got this, Emily. Let’s make a cake even better than the original.”

We rolled up our sleeves and got to work. Sarah took charge, giving me instructions and keeping me focused. We mixed the batter, baked the layers, and whipped up the frosting. The kitchen filled with the comforting smells of vanilla and sugar, lifting my spirits.

“How are you holding up?” she asked as we started decorating the cake.

“I’m still upset, but I’m determined not to let Linda ruin this for me,” I replied, carefully smoothing the frosting. “Thank you so much for helping me.”

“Of course, Emily. That’s what friends are for,” Sarah said with a warm smile.

Despite the time crunch, we worked efficiently. We piped flowers, added delicate details, and made sure every inch of the cake was perfect.

As the night wore on, exhaustion set in, but we pushed through. Finally, as the first light of dawn crept through the windows, we stepped back to admire our work.

The cake was beautiful, filled with love and care. It wasn’t the same as the original, but it was even more special because Sarah and I had made it together.

“Emily, this cake is stunning,” Sarah said, wiping a smudge of frosting from her cheek. “Linda has no idea what she’s up against.”

I smiled, feeling a surge of confidence. “You’re right. I’m not done yet. I’m going to teach Linda a lesson she’ll never forget.”

And then came the moment we were waiting for.

At my wedding reception, the new cake Sarah and I had made was set up, and it looked stunning. Guests mingled, chatting happily, but I noticed Linda watching me with a disappointed look. She had expected a meltdown, not this.

Just before we cut the cake, I took a deep breath and stepped up to the microphone.

Alex stood beside me, and I felt a pang of sadness as I looked into his eyes. He loved his mother, and he had no idea what she had done to me, to us.

“Thank you all for being here today,” I began, my voice steady. “I have something to share before we celebrate with this beautiful cake…”

The room fell silent, all eyes on me. I signaled to the technician, who played the security footage I had hidden in my living room. The video showed Linda and her friends eating the original cake and making snide comments about me.

Gasps echoed around the room as everyone watched. Linda’s face turned red, and she looked around, desperate for an escape!

“I installed a camera because I knew Linda didn’t like me,” I explained calmly. “Sorry, Alex,” I added, turning to him. “I suspected she might do something to sabotage our wedding. I didn’t want to believe it, but I had to be prepared.”

The guests murmured in shock, glancing between Linda and the screen. Linda’s friends tried to slip away, but the attention was already on them.

“Despite this setback, we have a beautiful new cake thanks to my amazing friend Sarah,” I continued. “This day is about love and celebration, and I won’t let anything ruin it.”

But this wasn’t over. I had more planned, and Linda had no idea what was coming next.

Suddenly, I saw Alex making his way toward Linda, his face flushed with anger. He reached her just as she was trying to blend into the crowd.

“Mom, how could you?” Alex’s voice was loud enough to silence the nearby conversations. “You ate our wedding cake and tried to sabotage Emily’s big day? This isn’t a joke!”

Linda tried to laugh it off. “Oh, Alex, it was just a bit of fun. No harm done, right?”

“No harm done?” Alex’s voice rose. “You ruined a thousand-dollar cake and caused Emily so much stress. This isn’t funny. It’s cruel!”

The guests watched in stunned silence, their eyes shifting between Alex and Linda. I felt a pang of sympathy for Alex, having to confront his own mother like this. But it needed to be done.

Linda looked around, realizing she had no supporters in the room. She mumbled something that sounded like an apology, but no one was convinced.

Taking out my phone, I quickly texted a waiter.

With a smile, I watched the waiter read my message and nod in my direction.

Minutes later, the caterers wheeled out a beautifully decorated cake, and I saw Linda and her friends eyeing it suspiciously.

The caterers placed it on a separate table, away from the main dessert.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I announced, getting everyone’s attention once more. “We have a special treat for a select few guests.”

The caterers began serving slices of the Styrofoam cake to Linda and her friends. Each slice had a small, elegant note attached. As Linda picked up her piece, she read the note out loud: “For those with truly tasteless appetites.”

Her face turned beet red, and the room fell silent for a moment before erupting in laughter.

Linda’s friends tried to hide their embarrassment, but it was too late.

Even Linda’s husband, William, burst out laughing.

He tried to stifle it, but he couldn’t help himself. “Oh, Linda, you had this coming,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Emily, that was brilliant,” one guest said, shaking my hand.

“Serves her right,” another added, nodding in approval.

William approached me with a serious expression, though I could see a hint of a smile. “Emily, I want you to know that Linda will be held accountable for her actions. This will not go unpunished.”

“Thank you,” I replied, grateful for his support. “I appreciate it.”

As the guests continued to cheer and celebrate, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Alex standing there, a proud but sad smile on his face.

“You handled that perfectly,” he said, pulling me into a hug. “It had to be done, but I’m sorry it came to this. I wish things were different. Mom shouldn’t have gone to such an extent.”

I hugged him back, feeling a surge of love and gratitude. “Thank you, Alex. For always supporting me.”

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, dancing, and joy. Despite everything, our wedding day had turned out better than I could have imagined, and I was glad that Linda’s antics couldn’t touch the happiness Alex and I shared.

What would you have done?

My Neighbor Totally Ruined My Windows with Paint after I Refused to Pay $2,000 for Her Dog’s Treatment

An increasingly heated argument starts when Julia declines to pay her neighbor $2000 for a small dog accident. Julia is dealing with family issues and navigating the chaos as tensions grow. But Julia loses it and plans some heinous retaliation after her neighbor paints over her windows.

Allow me to share with you the story of the moment I nearly went insane while residing in a quiet suburban neighborhood.

I’m Julia, and I shared this sweet small home with my husband Roger and our ten-year-old son Dean for more than 10 years.

As long as you disregarded the ongoing concern for Roger’s well-being, everything was fairly wonderful. However, when Linda moved in next door, everything was different.

Linda. The mere thought of her makes my blood boil. We never got along from the day she came in with her golden retriever, Max.

At first, it was simply small things, like her loud music or the fact that she allowed Max go anywhere he wished, nothing serious. However, things took a bad turn one sunny afternoon.

Max came running over to me while I was cutting my roses in my backyard, wagging his tail like he owned the place. Really sweet dog, but intrigued. He took in certain scents, and before I knew it, he yelled.

The poor creature has a little thorn embedded in his paw. I bent down, comforted him, and carefully pulled the thorn out. I patted Max’s head after he licked my fingers.

I accompanied him back to Linda’s, perhaps anticipating a thank you. Rather, she merely stood there, frowning and with her arms crossed.

Why does my dog have a limp? How did you act? She lost her temper.

“He simply trod on a small thorn,” I retorted, attempting to remain composed. “I removed it, and he seems OK.”

She gave a huff, and I assumed that was it. How incorrect I was!

One morning, I discovered a message affixed to my door. “You owe me $2000 for Max’s treatment,” it said.

I was astounded as I stared at it. Two thousand dollars? For what purpose? The dog only received a small cut. I made the decision to visit and make everything clear.

Linda, what’s the deal? I asked, pointing to the message.

Her tone was cold as she continued, “That’s for Max’s vet bill.” “That thorn caused him pain all through the night.”

“I apologize, but that is absurd,” I answered. “As a gesture of goodwill, I’ll give you $100, but two thousand is out of the question.”

Linda squinted her eyes. “You’ll regret it or you pay up.”

Linda turned my life into a living misery the moment she met me.

A woman standing in a quiet suburban street | Source: Midjourney

Every time she drove by, she would flip me off, honk, and tip over my trash cans. Her attempt to have Dean arrested was the worst. Dean, my sweet, naive boy, was simply riding a minibike like all the other kids in the area.

I was enjoying a cup of tea on the veranda one afternoon when I heard Linda’s car horn familiarly screaming. Glaring at Dean, who was playing in the driveway, I looked up.

She said, “Get that brat off that bike before I call the cops!”

“Linda, these are only children!” Feeling my patience wane, I yelled back.

She shot back, “Your kid is a menace, and if you don’t do something about it, I will.”

I was unable to yell, weep, or take action, even though I wanted to. Since Roger was back in the hospital, I was already overburdened with trying to keep things together. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at Dean.

I kindly murmured, “Come inside, honey.” “We’ll switch up the game.”

With tears in his eyes, Dean argued, “But Mom, I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I understand, my love. Simply put, it’s complicated.

I made an effort to ignore Linda’s shenanigans and concentrate on Roger and Dean. However, it felt as though a ticking time bomb was nearby. I was always afraid of what she might do next. Finally, she pushed me over the edge.

I got the call in the afternoon of a Sunday. Roger’s condition had gotten worse, and I had to head to the hospital right away.

After gathering our belongings, I dropped Dean off at my mother’s house and hurried to the hospital.

I stayed by Roger’s side for two excruciating days, not eating or sleeping, my mind racing with worry and tiredness.

Upon my return, all I wanted was a little break, an opportunity to regain my composure.

Upon walking up my driveway, I discovered that my house had been turned into a nightmare for graffiti artists. Paint in the colors red and yellow spattered my windows, dripping in unkempt streaks.

Paint splattered on a house | Source: Midjourney

My house appeared to have been attempted to be converted into a circus tent. And there it was, Linda’s note “Just to make your days brighter!” sitting on the doorstep!

A house covered with paint splatters | Source: Midjourney

I was shaking with fury as I stood there, my fatigue from the previous two days melting away in the fire of my fury. That was it. This was the tipping moment.

I clinched my teeth and whispered, “Dean, go inside.”

“But Mom, what took place?” His eyes wide with terror and perplexity, he questioned.

I said it again, softly this time, attempting to maintain my composure. “Just go inside, honey.”

Dean gave a nod and rushed inside, leaving me to harbor my rage on my own.

With my thoughts racing, I crumpled Linda’s paper in my hand. It had to end. Linda was going to get a war if that was her desire.

I took a drive to the hardware shop that afternoon. I strolled through the aisles, my rage melting into a detached, analytical concentration. When I saw the Japanese Beetle traps, a strategy started to take shape.

I purchased multiple packets of the beetle-attracting smell lures and traps. I put the aroma packets in the freezer as soon as I came home. The wax would be easier to work with in the cold. Anxiety mixed with excitement caused my heart to race. This needed to function.

I slipped into Linda’s yard at three in the morning while the neighborhood was silent due to the darkness.

I had the impression of a figure from one of Roger’s favorite spy films. My heart leaped at the sound of every distant leaf rustle. However, I was adamant. I hid the smell packets behind the layers of mulch in Linda’s well-kept flower beds.

By the time I was done, the first rays of morning were appearing.

I crept back inside my house, feeling my heartbeat finally begin to settle down. Despite being tired, I felt a sense of somber fulfillment as I got into bed. It was now a matter of waiting.

When I looked out my window the following afternoon, I noticed swarms of Japanese beetles descending on Linda’s garden. They were glinting in the sunlight. It was functioning.

Her lovely flower gardens were completely destroyed over the course of the following few days, the once-vibrant blossoms reduced to frayed remains.

Allow me to correct the information. Hi there, my name is Linda, and I came to this area in search of solitude.

My golden dog, Max, went into Julia’s yard by mistake and snagged a thorn in his paw, shattering that fantasy. She pulled it out as if she were doing me a favor, rather than just giving it back to him.

I asked Julia to pay Max’s vet bill the following day.

A dog lying on a sofa | Source: Pexels

He was in discomfort and walking with a limp all night. However, she was so bold as to offer me just $100 rather than the $2000 it would have cost. I told her she would regret not paying up after our argument. Things didn’t seem to be getting out of control.

Yes, I did, a couple times knocked over her trash cans and honked as I went past, to let her know I wasn’t going to back down. However, Julia painted myself as the bad guy.

I didn’t know things had gotten out of hand until insects decimated my garden.

I was like a crazy woman, rushing around my yard. When I was picking away dead flowers on the third day, I noticed something strange hidden in the mulch. When I saw that it was a piece of plastic packaging—part of a Japanese beetle trap—my heart fell.

Someone had intentionally done this. And I knew who it was, very well.

My wrath blazing, I stormed straight to Julia’s house. I knocked on her door, presenting the proof that implicated her.

“Julia! Let yourself in!” I yelled, fury trembling in my voice.

Appearing composed as ever, she unlocked the door. “What’s going on, Linda?”

“You know what you did to my garden?” I threw the plastic fragment towards her. This was discovered in my flower bed. Yes, you did this, right?

Although Julia maintained a neutral expression, there was a hint of something—guilt, perhaps—in her eyes. “Lucina, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t tell me lies!” I let out a cry. “You destroyed my yard! Why would you act in this manner?

A wail sounded from within the home before she could respond. When I looked behind Julia, I noticed Dean, her son, seated on the floor with tears running down his face.

“Is Dad going to pass away, Mom?” With his tiny voice breaking, Dean cried.

Julia looked past me, her expression softening as she turned to greet her son. “No, sweetheart, everything will be OK. The medical professionals are exerting every effort.

I watched this scene play out while freezing in place. My rage seemed so trivial now.

A boy wiping his tears | Source: Pexels

Julia was more than simply my obnoxious neighbor; she was a mother taking care of her sick husband and her afraid child.

“Julia, I.” I opened my mouth, but my words stumbled. How do I put it? I hadn’t paused to think about what she might be going through since I was so overwhelmed by my rage.

With a look of fatigue on her face, Julia turned to face me. “Linda, I apologize for your garden. However, I didn’t do it. I can’t handle this anymore, let alone caring about your flowers.

My fight was gone from me. “I apologize too,” I said. “I had no idea that things were so horrible for you.”

She gave a nod, remaining silent. I recoiled, embarrassed by my own foolishness. How could it have gotten so out of control?

That being said, I kept to myself. I realized that Julia had enough on her plate and put an end to the small-time harassing. My garden recovered slowly, and although Julia and I never became friends, we were able to live in harmony together.

I still think about that period of time years later. Sometimes, in order to understand what others are going through, you have to look past your own problems. Even though Julia and I have remained estranged neighbors, we have a silent respect for one another that was developed through hardship.

Though it has been romanticized for artistic purposes, this work draws inspiration from actual individuals and events. For reasons of privacy protection and story improvement, names, characters, and details have been changed. Any likeness to real people, alive or dead, or real events is entirely accidental and not the author’s intention.

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