A 17-year-old boy who works part-time at Pizza Hut drives up to park in front of the house in a beautiful Porsche

A 17–year–old boy working a part–time job at Pizza Hut shocked his parents when he drove up to their house in a glossy Porsche. Their eyes wide with surprise, they immediately grilled him.

“Where did this car come from?” they inquired, voice tinged with astonishment.

“I picked it up today,” responded the boy, unfazed.

His mother, increasingly anxious, pressed on, “How on earth did you manage to buy a Porsche? We know the hefty price tag on those, and your job certainly doesn’t cover it!”

Coolly, the boy detailed, “It’s second-hand, and the deal was too good to pass up. It cost me just 20 dollars.”

Aghast, his mother asked, “Who would sell a Porsche for just 20 dollars?”

“A woman a few doors down,” he explained. “She’s a recent arrival to our street. When I delivered her pizza, she offered to sell me the Porsche for 20 dollars.”

Perplexed and concerned, his parents made their way to the woman’s house, seeking clarity. They found her serenely gardening.

The father, attempting to stay calm, stated, “We are the parents of the young man you sold a Porsche to for 20 dollars. We’re here to find out why.”

The woman paused her gardening, looked them in the eye, and explained, “This morning, my husband phoned me. I assumed he was in Florida for business, but actually, he has eloped to Hawaii with his secretary and plans to stay there.”

Bewildered, the boy’s mother queried, “What does that have to do with selling a Porsche for 20 dollars?”

The woman, cracking a wry smile, responded, “He asked me to sell his Porsche and send him the proceeds. So, I simply did as he requested.”

Entitled Landlord Raised Our Rent by $650 – We Had Enough and Taught Him a Costly Lesson

When our landlord hiked our rent by $650, it was the last straw. Living in a rundown apartment with a broken fridge and constant harassment pushed us to the edge. Determined to get revenge, we concocted a clever plan to make him regret his greed and teach him an unforgettable lesson.

Dennis here. Let me tell you about the time my wife, Amber, and I dealt with the landlord from hell while saving for our dream house. It’s been a rollercoaster, but we learned a lot along the way

So, picture this: Amber and I moved into this tiny, run-down apartment a little over a year ago.

We were pinching pennies, trying to save up for a place of our own. The apartment was our stepping stone. Small, but we made it work. Amber decorated the place with some second-hand finds and DIY projects. I swear, she can make anything look good.

The trouble started right from the get-go.

We met our landlord, Mr. Williams, during the lease signing. Now, this guy looked like he had stepped right out of a 1980s corporate villain movie. Slicked-back hair, smug smile, and a suit that screamed “I have power, and I love it.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Williams,” Amber said, ever the polite one.

“Likewise,” he replied, barely looking up from the paperwork. “Let’s get this done quickly. I have other matters to attend to.”

We went through the motions, signing here and there. And then, like an idiot, I mentioned my income.

Amber and I brainstormed over a couple of beers one night, sketching out ideas on a napkin. We needed something that would hit Mr. Williams where it hurt but couldn’t be traced back to us.

Then it hit us—smells. Horrible, pervasive, can’t-get-rid-of-them smells.

“Alright,” I said, leaning back with a grin. “We need tuna, rotten eggs, milk, and dead mice.”

Amber chuckled. “This is going to be epic.”

We removed the tuna, cleaned out the rotten eggs, scrubbed the milk stains, and disposed of the dead mice. The smell finally began to dissipate.

“Good riddance,” Amber said, wiping her hands. “I hope he learned his lesson.”

And there you have it. The story of how we turned the tables on our greedy landlord and got the justice we deserved. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, remember: a little creativity and a lot of determination can go a long way!

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