Good teachers inspire growth, but bad ones inspire revenge.

So when a student with a long history of butting heads with his school science teacher was forced into a challenging science lab, the power struggle escalated.

But when given the change to name the specimen, it was the perfect opportunity for payback.

Keep reading for the full story.

“If you can’t do the lab, you fail.” -The regrettable statement of my high school anatomy teacher.

In 2015, I was in the second half of my senior year of high school.

I had a Catholic education all of my life.

In school, by the time we reached our upperclassman years, we had the ability to choose one or two elective courses.

This student decided he wanted to get a head start on his future.

Well, in that chapter of my life, I hoped to pursue occupational therapy in college.

So I graciously signed up for Human Anatomy.

Unfortunately, he got the short end of the stick when it came to the teacher.

This class was taught by one of my Catholic school’s nuns, who I did not get along with.

I had taken Biology, not by choice, with this woman, who we will call Sister “Geraldine,” in the past.

He thought quite poorly of Geraldine.

She would sit her wide *** in her poor rolling desk chair and not move for a whole day.

Since Sister G was an old large goat, she taught science in the most boring way possible.

No self respecting professional would have approved of her teaching methods.

Glancing over the reproductive system chapters, which were still covered in exams without being taught, or referring to more private parts of the human anatomy with phrases such as “Adam’s Gifts” to “Eve’s Fruitfulness.”

Her jerkiness was constant, and I was over it.

Sister G was self-righteous.

This led to pretty dismal relationships between her and her students.

She felt that she could treat others with little to no respect because she chose a path of vocation.

Because of this, other students feared her.

Every day I would battle her on this behavior because no one else ever dared to out of fear of getting sent to the office, yelled at by her, or sent to sit outside her classroom.

Students would pass by, and they knew it was her room.

Where I was usually serving a penance outside, although to me it felt more like a blessing rather than a punishment.

But this student wasn’t afraid to stick up to her.

Not many people had the balls to call her out, but I did.

I became the voice of my classroom.

I felt like Robin Hood that year.

You see, in anatomy, most schools will have a lab for dissection to test your knowledge and learn by visuals or hands-on experience.

Of course, I was expecting this.

This is where the student faced his most significant challenge yet.

But I’m no steel-stomached Braveheart.

As my class walked, and Sister Geraldine rolled into the lab across the hall, I could smell it: formaldehyde.

That smell could’ve pulled my lungs out through my nose and made me cough up fumes.

It was so strong.

I visibly retched and went to step outside for a moment of air.

This was exactly what Geraldine had been waiting for.

But alas, Sister Planet rolled into my way and gave us the title of my rant.

“If you can’t do the lab, you fail.”

And boy, did she have a sinister smile on her face.

She wanted me gone, and I could see it, but I wouldn’t let her win.

Still, the student bravely continued with the lab.

In the lab, I’m paired with a fellow classmate, who we will call “Brett.”

I asked Brett if he wouldn’t mind picking out a specimen to dissect.

He complied and left to get one for us.

I thought that this may not be too bad.

But boy, was I wrong.

His lab partner didn’t exactly lighten the burden.

Brett managed to come back with a specimen twice the size of our dissection tray, lay before me.

I thought this could only get worse.

But here’s where things really start getting good.

But then, as if the fates heard my silent cries, an opportunity arose.

Sister Geraldine tried to occasionally make her students happy.

In a cruel turn, the sister issued another direction.

She let us all name our pigs.

We went around the room and said those names out loud.

There were some silly ones, like Chris P. Bacon or Miss Honey Ham.

But when it was the student’s turn, he said something unbelievable.

But when it came to me and Brett, I held my hand in front of him in a silencing gesture.

With a malicious smile slowly forming, I turned to my nemesis and in front of our class said this:

“This is Geraldine.”

What an ending.

Redditors chime in with their thoughts.

This commenter also got into some lab-related trouble.

This story was so horrifyingly gripping, this commenter compared it to that of a famous horror author.

If the sister were to object to this, she would be pretty hypocritical.

When you rule your classroom with an iron fist, you can’t be too surprised when someone finally stages a mutiny.

Looks like this cruel teacher had finally met her match.

If you liked that post, check this one about a guy who got revenge on his condo by making his own Christmas light rules.