Fire-starters, my mother calls them. People who liked to cause problems or in today’s English, “shit stirrers.”
I like those kind of people. I would never tell her that though because she would kick my arse. Not literally, of course, but she would start to question things I’ve done in the past and whether I’ve done them just to be annoying.
There are a few instances I can think of. I had once planted the seed of doubt in my sister’s head that her boyfriend had slept with a girl from her dancing class. It was true to some extent; he HAD slept in the same bed, but not quite the way my sister was thinking. I didn’t tell her that they were actually cousins and it had happened when they were kids, but my sister didn’t need to know that.
I know what you’re thinking: you are such a bitch. I don’t mean to be. I just enjoy getting a reaction from people. It’s like the ultimate buzz. Some people get it from jumping out of airplanes, others get it from drugs. Mine is a lot less expensive… and a lot more fun.