When a wealthy couple refused to pay my father, a hard-working plumber, they thought they were being clever. Little did they know, their arrogance would backfire. Here’s how my father tricked them.
Hello everyone! Phoebe here, but you can call me Pippi—that’s what my dad does. Speaking of which, let me introduce you to Pete: 55 years old, a handsome fellow with a white beard and sturdy hands. He’s a friendly neighborhood plumber and my superhero without the cape.
Close-up of an elderly man smiling | Source: Midjourney
Dad is the kind of person who takes every service seriously, redoing entire bathrooms if a single tile is faulty. But some people see that dedication and think they can profit from it. That’s exactly what two homeowners tried to do.
Oh, but they didn’t know who they were dealing with.
It all started a few months ago when I stopped by my dad’s house. I found him on the patio, puffing on his cigar and laughing like he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world.
A plumber installing pipe fittings | Source: Pexels
“What’s got you in such a good mood?” I asked, sitting down next to him.
He replied, “Oh, Pippi, you won’t believe what just happened. That’s quite a story!”
Dad leaned over, still laughing. “Remember that bathroom renovation I was working on? Well, let me tell you about the Carlyles, or as I like to call them, the Pinchpennies.”
I settled in, knowing it was going to be exciting. Dad’s stories always were.
A bathroom interior | Source: Unsplash
“These people wanted everything they could think of. New tiles, luxury fixtures, you name it. They chose every little detail themselves… right down to the placement of the toilet paper holder.”
“Sounds like a dream job,” I said.
Dad sniffed. “Oh, it started out well like that. But then…”
His face darkened, and I knew we were getting to the good part. “What happened, Dad?” I asked.
An elderly man repairing a faucet in the bathroom | Source: Midjourney
“Well, Pippi, on the last day, just as I’m about to start grouting, they’re sitting on this couch, ready to play me a trick.”
Dad’s voice took on a mocking tone as he imitated Mrs. Carlyle. “‘Oh, Pete, this isn’t what we wanted at all! These tiles aren’t laid properly!'”
I jumped. “But didn’t they choose everything themselves?”
“Exactly!” my father said, throwing his arms up in the air. “And get this—they had the nerve to tell me they were only going to pay me half of what they owed me. HALF!”
An older couple sitting on the couch | Source: Pexels
I was shocked. “HALF?? After spending two weeks racking your brains to get their dream bathroom. This is not possible! What did you do?”
He replied: “At first, I tried to reason with them. But they wouldn’t have it. Mr. Carlyle got angry and said, ‘Finish the job and look elsewhere, Pete. We won’t pay you a penny more.'”
I felt my blood boil. “It’s not fair! You’ve worked so hard!”
A shocked young woman holding her face | Source: Pexels
Dad patted my hand. “Now, now, Pippi. Don’t worry! Your old dad had a trick up his sleeve.”
“What did you do?” I asked, eager to know more.
Dad smiled. “Oh, I finished the job all right. But instead of using water for the grout…”
“…I mixed it with sugar and honey,” Dad said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
I blinked, trying to process what I’d just heard. “Sugar and honey? In the sauce? But why?”
A bottle of honey near a small mound of powdered tile grout | Source: Midjourney
Dad leaned back, taking a long drag on his cigar. “Wait and see, Pippi. You’ll see.”
He went on to explain how he packed up his tools, pocketed half the pay, and left the premises smiling, knowing full well what was coming next.
“But Dad,” I said, “Didn’t they suspect anything?”
A smiling elderly man holding a toolbox | Source: Midjourney
He shook his head, chuckling. “No, not at the time. It looked great when it dried. But a few weeks later…”
I was speechless. “What happened a few weeks later?”
Dad’s smile widened. “That’s when the real fun began.”
“Imagine,” Dad said, gesturing with his cigar. “The Pinchpennies are sitting pretty, thinking they’ve done old Pete a good turn. And then one day, Mrs. Carlyle goes to take a shower, and what does she see?”
Smiling elderly couple holding ceramic cups | Source: Pexels
I shrugged, completely absorbed in the story.
“Ants!” said Dad. “Dozens of them, marching along the grout lines like it was their own personal highway!”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh, it gets better,” Dad continues. “The next day, it’s the cockroaches. Then every creepy crawly within spitting distance shows up at the party.”
I was stunned, “But how do you know all this?”
Close-up of an army of ants on a bathroom floor | Source: Midjourney
Dad winked at me. “Remember Johnny? My old buddy? He’s their neighbor and he kept me informed.”
“And the Carlyles?” I asked. “What did they do?”
Dad’s eyes sparkled with joy. “Oh, Pippi, they’ve tried everything. They’ve spent a fortune on pest control, but nothing has worked. You want to know the best part?”
I nodded impatiently.
A pest controller outside a house | Source: Pexels
“They blamed the pest control sprays for damaging the seals! Can you believe that?” Dad said, bursting out laughing.
I couldn’t help feeling a pang of sympathy for the Carlyles. “But Dad, don’t you think that was a bit… harsh?”
Dad’s expression softened. “Pippi, you have to understand. These people tried to cheat me out of my hard-earned money. Two weeks of backbreaking work, and they only wanted to pay me half?”
I nodded slowly. “I understand, but still…”
Close-up of a stunned woman | Source: Pexels
“Listen,” Dad said, leaning forward. “In this business, your reputation is everything. If anyone found out I let customers walk all over me, I’d go out of business faster than you can say ‘leaky faucet’.”
I have to admit he wasn’t wrong. “What happened next?”
Dad smiled. “Well, according to Johnny, they ended up redoing the whole bathroom about a year later.”
My eyes widened. “Did that solve the problem?”
A man working on a renovation project | Source: Freepik
Dad shook his head and chuckled. “No. The sugar residue was still there, lurking just beneath the surface. The bugs kept coming back.”
“And the Carlyles?” I asked. “Did they finally figure it out?”
Dad replied, “I don’t have a clue. Last I heard, they were planning on redoing the entire bathroom… again.”
I sat down. “Wow, Dad. That’s… too much. But didn’t you feel a little sick?”
Construction worker laying ceramic tiles | Source: Freepik
Dad sighed, his expression turning serious. “Pippi, let me tell you something. In all my years of plumbing, I’ve never done anything like this. And I hope I never have to again. But those Carlyles, they weren’t just trying to cheat me. They were insulting my work, my pride.”
I nodded, understanding beginning to dawn. “They thought they could walk all over you.”
“Exactly,” Dad said, pointing his cigar at me. “And in this business, rumors travel fast. If I let them get away with it, who knows how many other people might try the same thing?”
Side view of an elderly man looking up | Source: Midjourney
“I guess you’re right,” I admitted. “But still, bugs in the bathroom? That’s pretty gross, Dad.”
He chuckled. “Well, I never said it was a great revenge. But it was effective.”
“So what happened after that?” I asked. “Have you heard from them again?”
Dad shook his head. “No. But Johnny keeps me informed. You should hear some of the stories he’s told me.”
“Like what?” I asked.
Ants near a bathtub | Source: Midjourney
Dad’s eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Well, there was this time Mrs. Carlyle was having a fancy dinner party. Johnny said he could hear her screaming from her house when she found a cockroach in the guest bathroom!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh man, that must have been embarrassing!”
Close-up of a cockroach on a bathroom sink | Source: Midjourney
“You bet it was,” Dad chuckled. “And then there was the time Mr. Carlyle tried to fix the problem himself. He bought all the bug spray in the store and tackled the bathroom.”
“Did it work?” I asked, already guessing the answer.
Dad shook his head, smiling. “No, it didn’t work. It just made the house smell like a chemical factory for weeks. And the bugs? They came back as soon as the smell wore off.”
Close-up of a gloved hand holding disinfectant solution | Source: Freepik
“Unbelievable! How long has this been going on?”
“Oh, it must be over a year now,” Dad said, taking a drag on his cigar. “Johnny says they’re at their wits’ end. They’re talking about selling the house and moving.”
I whistled lowly. “Wow, Dad. That’s a long shot.”
Side view of a cottage with a beautiful garden | Source: Unsplash
He nodded, a hint of remorse in his eyes. “Maybe it lasted a little longer than I expected. But you know what they say about karma.”
“Yes,” I said. “He’s a real… well, you know.”
We laughed heartily.
Close-up side view of an elderly man with downcast eyes | Source: Midjourney
As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the patio, I sat, taking in everything Dad had told me.
“You know, Dad,” I said slowly, “I have to admit, this is pretty awesome. Evil, but awesome.”
Dad nodded, a satisfied smile on his face. “Sometimes, Pippi, you have to teach people a lesson they won’t forget.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I bet the Carlyles won’t be trying to rip anyone off on their bill anytime soon.”
Grayscale close-up of a smiling woman | Source: Pexels
“I think so too,” Dad said, laughing. “And every time Johnny gives me news, it makes me laugh.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the sky turn pink and orange.
“Hey, Dad?” I finally said.
“Yes, Pippi?”
“Promise me one thing?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
Side view of an older man smiling | Source: Midjourney
I smiled. “If I ever need to redo my bathroom, I’ll pay you in full upfront.”
Dad burst out laughing and hugged me. “That’s my daughter!”
As we sat there laughing and watching the sunset, I couldn’t help but think of the Carlyles and their bug-infested bathroom. It reminded me that sometimes karma has six legs and a sweet tooth.
An older man laughing | Source: Midjourney
Read also: Is my revenge against my parents justified after they stole over $15,000 from me?
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the story. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims regarding the accuracy of events or character portrayals and are not responsible for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and all opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the opinions of the author or publisher.
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