[ WP ] You discover that you have a long lost identical twin , but before they discover you exist you realize they are a terrible person . Instead of introducing yourself to them you decide to make their life a living hell .

As I've traveled through life, I've found more and more that I'm what most people called a `` good person,'' which I always thought was weird. I'm not, really, I'm just not an asshole. But that's okay, it just taught me to keep most people at a distance. Since, apparently, most people *are* assholes. 
 
 I kept them at a distance, that is, until the asshole lifestyle started to leak in on me. 
 
 Like a leaky roof over my bed, it really could n't be avoided. The town I lived in was n't small, but it was small enough that lots of people knew each other. I had a positive reputation, I think - apparently, giving your change to bums, driving the occasional student and volunteering to work at food drives a few times a year qualified you for that - but overnight, the town's perception of me went from a bright, spotless white to an inky black splotch. 
 
 It was like a clone of me was walking around pissing everyone off. According to various people, I did, in fact, drive like an asshole ( in a noisy car ), cut lines, spit on the homeless, and make children cry. And every time someone would confront me about it, I'd say, `` but it was n't me!'' And they'd reply, `` oh, sure, well I guess it was your identical twin!'' 
 
 And it turns out they were right. 
 
 It was juts coincidence that I ended up finding him. Walking down the same street. The guy was an exact copy of me, except everything about him screamed offensive. He wore the most ridiculously douchey looking outfit and sunglasses I'd ever seen and pushed people around while he walked, like he was late for the appointment to remove the stick up his ass. It was n't hard to see why he'd been pissing people off. 
 
 Well, I thought, I do n't really care *why* he looks like me - he obviously has no idea I exist. But he *is* making my life hell, why not return the favor? 
 
 I followed him home, discreetly, the afternoon I saw him. He lived alone ( unsurprisingly ) in a big, expensive condo on the edge of town. Giant SUV, and apparently, a booming surround sound that he started blasting through his walls as soon as he went inside. 
 
 They say the best revenge is living well - so I decided he was going to make up for all that karma he'd spent ruining my reputation. The idiot left his door unlocked when he left ( why, I have no idea - if I were that much of an asshole, I sure would n't ), and I was able to get inside the condo easily. 
 
 Naturally, the first thing I did that day was empty his kitchen. 
 
 He had lots of expensive food - the `` all organic'' stuff that is theoretically better for you but costs 10x as much. I grabbed a key on the way out. I could only imagine his reaction at coming home to find that someone had left his TV and computer but emptied his pantry. 
 
 Bags and bags of food ended up at the town's homeless kitchen that evening, real high quality ingredients fit for gourmet cooking. All courtesy of me! It was n't stealing, I rationalized, not really. After all, we were essentially the same person. Or maybe he was more like my evil twin. 
 
 The next day, his door was locked. Not surprising, seeing as he'd come home to find someone had filched $ 600 worth of groceries. Luckily, I had a key. 
 
 Today it was toiletries. This one was a slow burn, as I left just enough toilet paper and tissues around that he'd run out slowly, rather than all at once. I did take all of his extra supplies. And once again, the small amount of food he purchased for himself walked out of his pantry. 
 
 And again, the town shelter found itself with some fresh supplies. I kept some of the toilet paper, though. 
 
 I knew I was getting under his skin by the end of third day, because when I showed up at the shelter with bags of clothes, he'd apparently been there before me, shouting at some very confused social workers that the bums they were sheltering were taking his stuff. I apologized for my previous behavior, obviously, and asked them to take a picture of me dropping my daily charity in their storeroom. That way, the next time he came in screaming, they'd have proof that it was him who was giving them his stuff. 
 
 By the end of the fourth day, I saw boxes and a moving truck in front of his house, and I smiled. Only here a month, and already moving away? I mean, I'm not saying I had come to steal his electronics, but he would've had far fewer boxes had he decided to keep living in my town. 
 
 I never did find out who that asshole actually was, or why he looked like me, but good riddance.
