Sweet Revenge: 200 Delicious Ways to Get Your Own Back

his place of honour. And so it came to pass that on 22 October 1993, Mr Rowland and I signed a one-page peace agreement thus ending his fifteen-year quest for Harrods. We then proceeded in a spirit of good fellowship to the Food Halls where together we winched down Tiny to general applause and the clatter of the Nikon choir.
    By this time Tiny had acquired a small shark in his formidable jaws, the small shark bearing the name Bock in honour of Mr Rowland's new partner and then co-chief executive Herr Dieter Bock. As the journalist reviewing the newspapers on the following morning's broadcast of radio's Today programme remarked: 'It is not often that the fish counter at Harrods makes the front page of every broadsheet newspaper.' Later Mr Rowland and I enjoyed several convivial lunches together.
    As for Tiny, I took him by Harrods horse-drawn delivery van to Mr Rowland's house in Chester Square. Mr Rowland had planned to hang Tiny over his swimming pool but he magnanimously agreed to my suggestion that the shark perform one final public service. Tiny was auctioned by Sotheby's - who generously waived their fee - for £4,000; the money going to the excellent charity ChildLine. Tiny is now the star attraction at a marine world theme park in Scotland.'
     

     
    There was to be a dinner party in a rather grand old house in Southern Ireland. The food was all prepared and the guests arrived. The hostess went into the kitchen to sort out the canapés and was horrified to see the family cat nibbling the beautifully-displayed salmon. She gave the cat an enormous belt which launched it half-way across the room and tidied up the fish, covering the bits

     
    that the cat had eaten with cucumber and lemon and generally patting it back into shape.
    The evening proceeded well. After the main course, however, the hostess was even more horrified to find the cat in the kitchen again but, this time, lying on the floor stone cold dead. She immediately thought of the salmon and her guests and was overwhelmed with fear for their safety. Quickly she telephoned her doctor who prescribed radical treatment immediately. Each and every one of her guests went to the casualty department to have their stomachs pumped.
    Some time afterwards the results of the autopsy on the cat were returned. The cat had its ultimate revenge - it had actually died of a heart attack.
     

     
    'This happened while I was an apprentice rider. One of the lads had been getting a lot more rides, and was really condescending about the way I rode. He just wasn't very pleasant over quite a period of time. While he was working in another yard he was down to ride a horse which had a good chance of winning in a Conditional Jockeys' Race (a “boys" race). I got one of the lads in my yard to phone the trainer's secretary and say that his horse was not running as it had gone lame. So he didn't show up. But I did. I went on to win. I haven't really looked back since.'
    - John Francome, jockey and TV presenter.
     

     
    The crew of a racing boat became progressively more and more irritated by the rich owner of a large dog. He would let it off his gin palace on to the dock where it would roam around all day, getting in everyone's way and, more often than not, doing its doings in places where it would inevitably end up on a sail or a sailor. Theytried

     
    to get it to stay out of their way by kicking it into the water from time to time, where it would flounder around like Scooby Doo for a while, but always it returned to haunt them.
    When they could take no more they devised a simple revenge - the big, hungry dog was more than delighted to eat the sump oil sandwiches which they fed it just before it was due back on the gin palace.
    Sump oil has the same effect on the digestion as castor oil and they had a good laugh imagining the state of the smart carpets in the motor yacht.
     

     
    'I had been out deep-sea fishing for the day and had been lucky enough to land a big barracuda. This, I thought, could provide us with a little amusement that night. We decided to slip it under Ralph Glister's pillow and scare the pants off him when he turned in, particularly as his wife Kathie was in on the joke and had in fact told us that Gillie always slept with his arms stretched out under his head. The fearsome-looking fish was duly placed in his bed and the rest of the family and myself gathered quietly in the anteroom of the Glisters' suite to hear what happened.
    'We heard Gillie say