Some stories are so entertaining you don’t even need any visuals to see them!

This guy shares how his new boss got rid of an annoying client who had been a trouble maker for a very long time.

Check out the full story. 

In which a difficult customer finally gets what’s coming to him.

Everybody knows a grinch. A scrooge. A C. Montgomery Burns. Somebody who, for whatever reason, makes it their mission to ruin the happiness of others.

This user has quite an analogy for everyday people…

In normal, everyday life, we can ignore the scrooges, or if they’re particularly horrible, just punch them in the face and be done with it.

But when you have a Scrooge for a customer, you can unfortunately neither punch nor ignore him.

Such is the case with my store’s Mr. Green (Name edited to protect the innoce-well).

Mr. Green is on the winding down side of a mid-life crisis; his anatomy has reasserted itself and is slowly but steadily pushing the hair plugs out of his head.

This is where the narrative gets interesting…

He seems to have developed a tolerance for diet pills, because his spare tire has returned with a vengeance.

The credit cards he was issued to finance his new childhood are coming up declined more and more, and his 2008 Mustang Convertible has ancient bird-crap stains on the leather from the numerous times he’s parked it without putting the top back on.

Were it not for his pugnacity, Mr. Green would be a pitiable fellow.

Mr. Green does the most unexpected!

Mr. Green comes to our clothing shop at least three times a week, always following the same routine. On Monday, he will come in and purchase a lot of clothing.

On Tuesday, we’ll get a call from Mr. Green, informing us that he’s dissatisfied with the clothing.

On Wednesday, he’ll come back to the store to return the items he’s dissatisfied with.

On Thursday, we’ll get another call, in which he insists that one of his many soon-to-be-defunct credit cards was not credited back the proper amount.

He’s generous with this one!

He gives us a day off on Friday, though we don’t know why.

On Saturday, he’ll come back in to argue and haggle with our manager to try to get more money than he is owed.

Week in, week out, this is how it goes with Mr. Green.

Unto itself, this would not be reason enough to hate the man. A customer may be very difficult, even demanding, but that alone doesn’t make him an idiot.

Being an idiot about it is what makes him an idiot.

UH OH…

He has, on numerous occasions, insulted our staff, even using the n-word on one of our cashiers when the total of his purchase exceeded his original estimate.

He parks in handicapped spaces. Spaces, plural; he will drive his gross Mustang in, facing the store laterally. Whenever he’s confronted about it, he shrugs, saying “The sooner I’m done here, the sooner the spaces will be free again. Chop, chop!”

He’s been asked to leave several times after harassing female (and usually underage!) customers, each time vowing to sue if he was manhandled.

And he would always get away with all of it, because the owner was his best high school buddy.

That’s so unfair!

That is, until recently.

Last week, our owner sold out his franchise to the corporate company from which he had purchased the license.

We (the employees) had feared this meant that the store would simply close, and we’d be out of jobs. But mercifully [Teenage Hipster Clothing Store Inc.] decided to keep our location open.

They promoted one of our floor managers, Tony (who had been called the n-word by Mr. Green) to the position of General Manager. AND our hourly wage was raised by twenty-five cents.

It gets better!

Suffice to say, we’re all ready to give a salute to our beneficent corporate overlords, but the best was yet to come.

The night before his first shift as General Manager, a Friday (and obviously, after his promotion had been announced to the rest of us employees), one of the guys asked Tony what he planned to do about Mr. Green.

Tony, already the model of a corporate-type, said only, “Just do your jobs like you already do, and don’t worry about it.”

The next day (Saturday) Mr. Green showed up just like always to try to eke more money than he was owed out of us. He parked across the two closest handicap spaces, just like always.

This is where things get INTENSE!

He marched into the store, and asked to be shown to the Men’s’ section, even though he knew where it was by heart.

But before anyone could even approach, Tony was already there. Tony had positioned himself between Mr. Green and the rest of the store proper, on the tile ‘foyer’ directly in front of the automatic sliding doors.

Tony had an object in his hand which I didn’t immediately recognize. I feared momentarily that it might have been a weapon.

I couldn’t hear what Tony said to Mr. Green, but the voice with which he said it was low and menacing. My fears grew. Is Tony about to shoot Mr. Green??

That is INSANE!

Mr. Green’s eyes grew wide as Tony spoke. At first, I attributed this to being threatened with bodily harm, but I watched the expression grow from one of surprise to indignation.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Mr. Green screeched. “I want to see [Former Owner’s Name]! Right now!”

More rumbled conversation from Tony, who had begun to draw himself up to his full height of 6’3″. I was now certain that Tony was about to murder Mr. Green right there on the tile floor.

“Screw you!” Mr. Green roared. “I’ve been coming here for years! You can’t just throw me out! I haven’t even done anything!”

Things got way too cinematic!

At which point, Tony produced the item. He held it in front of his own face, and I finally recognized a Polaroid camera. It flashed as Tony held it steady, momentarily confusing Mr. Green who then launched into a full-on conniption.

Tony walked away from Mr. Green. As he passed by me, toward the offices in the back of the store, he growled, “Don’t let him have crap. And make sure he doesn’t steal anything.”

Not far behind him, jogging and all-the-while cursing a blue streak was Mr. Green, demanding that picture Tony had taken was his property, that he had no right, etc., etc.

When he got to me, I politely interspersed myself between him and the entrance to the office, explaining, “I’m sorry, Mr. Green. Employees only.”

He knew he had to keep his calm with this customer!

“Bull crap!” he declared, trying to walk around me.

I quickly backed up, putting myself directly in front of the doorway to the offices. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Green, but you can’t go back there.”

He looked about ready to body check me at this point, so I shrugged and moved out of the way. Mr. Green gave me a filthy look as he moved and tried to open the door, which was locked.

Mr. Green began to pound on the door, making threats legal, bodily and metaphysical. He went on like this for about a solid minute before Tony opened the door and stepped out.

The tension rises!

Mr. Green steeled himself as Tony returned, ready for a fight. But Tony side-stepped him and walked straight to me.

He handed me a stack of papers; each was a flyer, which bore the words “PERSONA NON GRATA,” above a photograph of Mr. Green in mid-tirade.

“Put these on all of the entrances and behind every cashier’s station,” Tony said, speaking slowly, his voice an andante bass of angry determination.

Mr. Green had leaned over to see what it was that Tony had handed me, and started anew his protestations.

It goes on and on!

Tony paid him no mind and brushed past him back into the office. Mr. Green continued his howling and pounding on the door, looking like the Big Bad Wolf, if the Big Bad Wolf had let himself go and tried to cover it up with hipster clothing.

He spied me turning to walk to the entrance and came towards me, saying “If you put those up, I will sue you for defamation of character and discrimination.”

I was unsure of what to do, because I don’t want to get sued (even if it’s pretty unlikely), but relishing the idea of humiliating Mr. Green.

Finally the cherry on top!

I was saved from hesitation by an announcement over the store’s PA. It was Tony’s voice, calmly announcing, “To the driver of the Yellow Mustang Convertible, your car is being towed.”

There was a moment of silence as both Mr. Green and I came to understand what that meant. And quicker than I’ve ever seen him move, Mr. Green skittered down the aisle towards the entrance.

I followed, and looked out the large glass doors at the entrance to our store to see Mr. Green hemming and hawing at the tow-truck operator who had already begun to load his car into the bed of the truck.

When I turned around, there was Tony, with a grin a mile wide on his face, the same grin which blossomed on my own face.

We haven’t seen Mr. Green at all this week, and I’m starting to think that we never will again. 2014 might be a very good year, indeed.

AWESOME! Some entitled customers deserve that!

Why would Mr. Green act like he owns the store?

Let’s find out what folks on Reddit think about this one.

This user knows what must have been going on in Tony’s head.

This user loves Tony!

This user would have taken this revenge to another level.

This user loves the way this story was written.

This user thinks Tony is an amazing manager!

Someone’s being really fun here!