Road rage is a fact of driving. Sometimes drivers around you overreact. So do you ignore them—or fight fire with fire? One bartender on the way home from a Friday night shift thought of the most delicious revenge, and really mashed the road rage in the bud.

Our hero finished up a long shift at a country club and was driving home around midnight. A blue SUV cut him off. “This guy makes a left-hand turn, moves over both lanes, and almost runs into me—but I jumped my truck up on the curb and sidewalk to avoid him hitting me.”

That truck was a 1994 Ford F-150 the bartender nicknamed “‘Betty White’ because she’s a white American classic that just doesn’t stop working.” But the incident finally did some damage to old Betty. “I’m pretty sure when I hit the curb it damaged my tire because about a week after I noticed it was losing air and I had to get a new one.”

The bartender was understandably upset. “I blew my horn at him till we pulled up to the next light about 100 yards down the road.” The SUV driver didn’t seem to think he deserved being beeped at. In fact, he got mad about it. “By the time we got there he had shifted back into the left lane… He rolls down his window and instead of apologizing he flips me the middle finger and yells ‘f— you.’”

The bartender hits a bullseye with the tastiest revenge

Little did the angry driver know, Friday is a special night at the country club. “We only do mash potatoes on Friday nights, which is the prime rib night.” And when the bartender finished his shift, he got a pair of to-go boxes, admitting, “The chef hooks me up.”

In one box: “30 oz of prime rib the kitchen hooked me up. No way was I throwing that.” But the other box? 100% potatoes. “The only logical thing I could think to do next was grab the large white styrofoam to-go box completely full of mash potatoes and launch it into his car.”

In addition to being a bartender with the defensive driving skills of a racecar driver, our hero has some serious frisbee skills. “I have played a lot of disc golf in my day, so it wasn’t too hard a shot.” The to-go container sailed through the angry driver’s open window. But then something happened even the disc-golf-playing bartender didn’t expect.

“As the box crosses the plane of his passenger window, the box clips the top of the opening. This causes the mash potatoes to explode into the car and cover him and the entire front seats of his car.”

The potato-covered driver was caught completely speechless. “I didn’t get an audible reaction. Just a look of complete regret and confusion.”

The bartender decided to floor it. “I immediately make the right-hand turn and book it out of there. I can only imagine what was going through his head as he sat there covered in buttery goodness.”

Would our hero toss the mashed potatoes all over again?

The bartender figures that as he sped away, the other driver “was probably still trying to figure out what he was covered in.” He admits he has questions. “I wondered if he ate any at that point. And does he have mash potato flashbacks when he encounters them in the wild?”

He admits it was an impulsive decision—but would do it all over again. “It was in the heat of the moment… Dude ran me off the road and then cussed me out—he deserved some retaliation for being an a–hat…. It was the most satisfaction I have ever had.”

“My only regret was I did not get to eat my mash potatoes, but I still had the prime rib when I got home… A member gave me half a bottle of pinot. I made some broccoli and a sweet potato… it was one sweet victory meal.”