So, even though I wasn't a "brother," I lived in the house because I knew several of the members. However, this meant that I was not invited to any of the parties they had. Most of the "brothers" were cool, but a few were just plain assholes and absolutely opposed to my attending their parties. I could stay in my room, or leave the house, but I couldn't mix in with the partiers.
This happened nearly every weekend and really got on my nerves. Finally, one weekend I'd had enough. I'd come home drunk and angry as hell, and to top it off, I really had to shit. The bathrooms were full of drunk morons pissing all over the place -- even one bathtub was full of some illicit yellow liquid -- and I wasn't interested on cleaning up before I sat down, so I decided to climb out a window onto the roof and shit there. (I was drunk, okay, gimme a break) It was very dark up there and I put down a newspaper and took a huge shit on it.
Then I had to figure out what to do with it. The backyard was lit up and I walked over to the edge of the roof and looked down. Like I said, most of the "brothers" were pretty cool, but there were a few who were just plain assholes. When I looked over the edge of the roof, there below me were a couple of the assholes. I walked back, picked up the newspaper and moved over to the edge again. Another of the jerks had joined the party.
I stood there for a moment enjoying the power, I though about laughing wildly, but decided against it, and taking careful aim, let the turds roll off the newspaper. I didn't actually wait to see them hit. I heard screaming and shouting and a little laughing, and by then I was back in the window and down the hall and in my room. Later on I heard the shower down the hall from my room running, for a long, long time.
I heard the next day a turd hit one guy on his head, and the rest landed on the table where they were sitting. They blamed the Frat house next door and never figured out I'd done it.
It was a small victory, but a satisfying one one.
-- Rick