There are few workplace frustrations more infuriating than the credit thief. They are the coworker who lurks in the shadows of your hard work, only to emerge into the spotlight at the last possible second to take a bow for your performance. They are masters of the word “we” when the work is being done, and “I” when the praise is being given. One reader, after a year of watching her ideas fuel her coworker’s rise, decided to stop being a silent partner in her own success and build a paper trail so perfect, it would lead directly to his downfall.
For the past year, my coworker Greg has been my professional parasite. He attached himself to my work, sucked out all the good ideas, and left me with the grunt work while he took the credit. I tried talking to him. I tried talking to my boss. Nothing worked. So I decided to let him steal from me one last time. But this time, I made sure there were receipts.
The ‘We’ Guy
Greg’s method was simple but effective. I’d spend weeks on a project, and in the final meeting, he would present my work, saying things like, “We felt the best approach was…” and somehow, by the end of the presentation, our boss would be congratulating him on a job well done. He was also notorious for swinging by my desk to “brainstorm,” which really meant listening to my developing ideas, only for them to magically appear in his weekly report to the boss.
The final straw was a major project. I had spent a month developing a completely new, innovative strategy to solve a huge problem for one of our biggest clients. It was a career-making idea. I foolishly mentioned the concept to him in the breakroom. The next morning, I was greeted by an email from Greg to our boss, Mr. Davies. The subject: “Game-Changing Idea for the Henderson Account.” It was my idea, presented as his own brilliant epiphany. I knew then that I had to do something.
Building the Paper Trail
My first instinct was to storm over to his desk. But I knew it would be my word against his. So, I took a deep breath and decided to play the long game. I had to build a trap he would willingly walk into.
I replied to the email—the one with him and my boss—and feigned enthusiastic collaboration. “This is fantastic, Greg! So glad you’re as excited about this concept as I am. As I mentioned yesterday, I’ve already put together a preliminary project outline and the initial data sets. To save time, I can send them over to you to use for the presentation. Sound good?”
The bait was set. Greg, blinded by arrogance and laziness, took it immediately. “Perfect!” he replied, still with our boss CC’d. “Yeah, send over everything you’ve got and I’ll whip it into shape for the big meeting.” He had just, in writing, admitted that I was the one with the materials.
For the next two weeks, I became his willing accomplice. I sent him everything. But every email was a carefully crafted piece of evidence. “Hi Greg, as requested, here is the full market analysis I completed.” “Hi Greg, attached are the financial projections I modeled.” “Hi Greg, here are the presentation slides I designed based on my research.” I CC’d our boss on every single one, under the guise of “keeping everyone in the loop.”
Reply All is a Beautiful Thing
The day of the big meeting arrived. Greg stood at the front of the conference room, clicking through my slides, explaining my data, and presenting my solution as his own. He was a superstar. “When I analyzed the numbers,” he’d say, “The strategy I developed will…”
He got a standing ovation. A few hours later, the email I was waiting for landed in my inbox. It was from our boss, sent to the entire department. “A huge congratulations to Greg for his phenomenal and innovative work on the Henderson Account. A true game-changer. Greg, we’re all incredibly impressed.”
I took a deep breath. I clicked Reply All.
My response was polite, professional, and surgically precise. “Thank you, Mr. Davies! I couldn’t agree more. I’m so proud of this project and the incredible result of all the hard work. Greg did a wonderful job presenting it. For anyone on the team interested in a deeper dive, I’ve attached the full email chain below, which documents the development process from concept to completion. It was a true team effort!”
The effect was instantaneous. I watched as people around the office opened the email. The whispering started. I could see Greg from across the room. His face went white. Everyone in the department now had a clickable, undeniable, chronological record of me creating every single component of the project and him simply asking for it. He was exposed by his own laziness, in front of everyone.
Greg was quietly moved to another department the following week, and I was given the lead on the project I created. Some coworkers think I was too calculating and should have handled it privately. I think I just organized the truth so that it couldn’t be ignored. AITA for my email revenge?
In the quiet, carpeted battleground of the modern office, this story is a tactical masterpiece. The narrator didn’t rely on confrontation or complaints; she relied on documentation and her opponent’s own arrogance. Her “Reply All” wasn’t just an email; it was a perfectly executed checkmate, using the corporate paper trail to deliver flawless, undeniable justice. She didn’t ruin his career; she simply created a situation where his lack of contribution could no longer be hidden.
What do you think, readers? Was this a brilliant and professional way to handle a credit thief, or was it a cold, career-sabotaging move that went too far? Let us know your thoughts!
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