The $20,000 revenge, or how being poor can be profitable.

So, when we last left off, I was a college student by the good graces of an evil company who employed my father. As mentioned, the evil company didn't concern me too much because they seemed to like my dad, so I figured it was best to just go with it. That all changed with the accident.

Growing up kids always get into strange parental competitions, who has the cooler mom or dad and the like, who's dad could beat up who's dad, you know how it goes. Well, growing up I never wondered, my dad was a god damned super human. Don't misunderstand, we barely talked through my entire life and I don't think we really understand one another, but I can't deny that the man is basically indestructible. Working in construction isn't a safe job, and I remember times when he underwent horrific injury without flinching. Bits of him were crushed and cut up multiple times, and once a shard of rock shattered and lodged part of itself into his face below the eye. I distinctly remember one time when he caught a wasp with his bare hand and just watched it sting his finger, I don't think he registers pain like normal people.

Dad?

This is unrelated, but I do need to brag for a second. The day came when my father did something that basically allowed me an instant win against anyone who's dad isn't an astronaut or time traveling rogue. Working on a bridge with another company, my dad saw a man from the other company slip and fall from his perch, tumbling off the bridge and into the water. My dad just up and jumps off the bridge after the guy, several stories up from the water, which isn't safe in any sense. The other man sadly died before he even hit the water, breaking his neck on part of the bridge on the way down, but still made me damn proud to be his son.

One day my father arrives on the scene of a job, repairing a bridge in NYC, and climbs up to the main site. The site was prepared by the state, and inspected by the company before any workers were to arrive on site, or so they claimed later on. The rebar that was supposed to support my father gave out from underneath him and he fell several stories to the ground below. People on site say my dad landed on his feet, rolled forward once back onto his feet, and just walked away. However, as the adrenaline wore off on the way to the hospital he found himself in immense pain, not that you would know it looking at him, being super human and all.

The accident of course brought suspicion to the company, and practically overnight they distanced themselves from the whole affair and claimed it was my fathers own fault. It was all very messy, and all very shady in my opinion, but the end result was a father without a company to back him. They all but punched him in the spine afterwards, and this obviously left a great deal of bad blood between them and my family. As for his injuries, it turned out that three of his vertebrae were compressed along with a few discs, he would be in pain for the rest of his life, and would never work again. I know he wakes up in pain, if he even gets to sleep at all, and I worry about the possibility of painkiller addiction he could face with this condition. One neat aspect to it all however is that to alleviate some of the pain, doctors installed a device to the base of his spine that he can use to regulate pain. He can basically use a cybernetic implant to turn off pain in his body. My father is an android.

DAD!?

Well, for once in my life, I found that being a starving artist had the potential to pay off for my family. Once I graduated I called my private loan and told them I wanted to start my deferral months immediately, overlapping my grace period. I sat pretty for six months, waiting for the payments to become due once again, and soon enough the calls began. I assigned all loan related phone numbers a silent ringtone and waiting for the good graces to come to an end and the collection agencies to begin calling. Eventually I received a call informing me that my debt was sold to a collection agency, and I politely told the man on the phone that not only did I have no assets, my bank account had a negative balance. I deal almost exclusively in cash, and fairly small amounts at that, I make rent and groceries and everything else pays for materials. I practically laughed when he warned he might seize my accounts, because like I told him, he would actually lose money.

Sure enough he checked into my finances and saw that I was poison for money, but my co-signers, now THEY had money. I don't live in NY anymore, and most addresses in my name are old apartments or places I just forwarded my mail, the company couldn't find me once the heat came to them. I just sat and waited as a collection agency went after those bastards for my $20,000 private loan, plus interest and the agency fees. Two years after graduating from school I receive a letter from the bank thanking me for paying my loan in full. Those sons of bitches ate the whole cost, and my debt was significantly reduced.

My credit was never even affected.

Sure, its not as exciting as breaking into the place and stealing 20 large for myself, but making those slimy bastards eat my debt brought a smile to my face. Although I do need to worry about them ever finding me again, because I do like my ears on my head and not being beat with baseball bats.

Like this, but with less hats. (Credit to Don Hertzfeldt, who I worship)