Septic Justice: How a French Village Outsider Served the Mayor a Delicious Slice of Petty Revenge
There are few things in life more satisfying than a well-executed act of petty revenge—especially when it’s stewing in the centuries-old grudge stew that is rural France. Today, dear reader, we dive into a tale that is equal parts comedy, justice, and, well… sewage. If you’ve ever daydreamed about getting back at a snobby neighbor, you’ll want to grab a baguette and settle in for this one.
Picture this: a tiny, clannish French village where “outsiders” are anyone whose family tree doesn’t wrap around the town square at least five times. Our narrator’s parents committed the ultimate sin—buying a disused field from a local farmer, a transaction that, in the villagers’ eyes, ranked somewhere between burning down the church and putting ketchup on a croissant. What followed was a decade of snubs, sneers, and small-town shenanigans—all overseen by a mayor with a truly filthy secret.
The Stink of Injustice
Life in the village was, to put it lightly, “complicated.” The locals, tight-knit to the point of near inbreeding (the haylofts were apparently quite lively after dark), never forgave the narrator’s family for daring to settle among them. Disparaging remarks at school, intimidating hunters, and even a harebrained attempt to run a public road through their living room—all par for the course.
But the real kicker? The literal crap flowing through the village. You see, in this picturesque medieval hamlet, indoor plumbing was a luxury—at least until the mayor decided to install a communal sewage system. The catch? The mayor, ever eager to pinch a franc, exempted his own home from the costly upgrade. His household effluent continued to cascade down a stone arch, turning the limestone steps into a daily splatter painting no one wanted to see, let alone smell.
Dad’s Dream, Daughter’s Deed
For years, the narrator’s father fantasized about plugging the mayor’s “shithole” with expanding foam—a mental image that’s both oddly satisfying and deeply disgusting. “Someone should teach him a lesson,” he’d grumble, stewing as the mayor’s excrement trickled out, unpunished and unashamed.
Enter our petty protagonist, who, on the cusp of teenage rebellion and armed with a freshly-minted moped license, made a pilgrimage to the hardware store. Four cans of expanding foam in tow, she and her best friend executed the kind of covert operation that would make Inspector Clouseau proud. Under cover of darkness, they sealed the mayor’s infamous pipe—and, for good measure, “decorated” his front door with the same sticky justice.
Overflowing Consequences
The village awoke to a scene worthy of a slapstick movie. The mayor, denied the usual exit route for his morning business, found his toilet backfiring in spectacular fashion. In a desperate dash to investigate, he slipped and skidded through a puddle of his own making at the front door—a moment so memorable, the townsfolk were still gossiping about it six years later.
There’s a certain poetic justice in the image: the mayor, so proud of his penny-pinching, laid low (and laid out) by the very waste he’d been inflicting on his neighbors. It’s the kind of story that, like the best French cheese, only gets better with age.
Petty Revenge, Grand Satisfaction
What makes this tale so delicious—apart from the obvious slapstick—is the universal appeal of sticking it to the man, especially when that man is literally full of… well, you know. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the smallest acts of rebellion can leave the biggest stink (in all the best ways).
And let’s not overlook the generational aspect here: the narrator’s act was a fulfillment of her father’s long-held wish, a passing of the torch in the grand tradition of family feuds everywhere. Move over, Montagues and Capulets—this is the real drama of rural France.
Have You Ever Dreamed of Petty Revenge?
So, readers, what’s your best “petty revenge” story? Have you ever found yourself on the receiving end of small-town politics, or dreamed of a little (harmless) payback? Sound off in the comments—just, please, keep it cleaner than our poor French mayor.
Remember: revenge is a dish best served… with expanding foam.
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Original Reddit Post: Input output pootpoot