When my neighbors decided to dump their rotting Halloween trash on my lawn, they likely thought I’d simply clean it up and move on. But after years of dealing with their entitled antics, I knew it was time for a little revenge, one that would hit them where they least expected.
Halloween is one of my favorite times of year. Each October, I transform my yard into a spooky wonderland with cobwebs, creepy skeletons, and eerie decorations. This year, I went all out. I built a haunted maze and added a glowing witch in my front yard that got the whole neighborhood talking. Kids loved it, and even passersby complimented my creativity. But, not everyone was a fan.
My neighbors, Gary and Brenda, never seemed happy with anything I did. Whether it was Halloween, Christmas lights, or even my garden, they always had something to complain about. Once, Brenda insisted I remove a section of my garden because it “blocked her view.” It seemed nothing I did was ever good enough for them.
After Halloween, I intended to clean up my decorations but got busy with work, leaving them up a bit longer than planned. Then, one morning, I stepped outside to find a disgusting mess right in the middle of my lawn. There were rotting pumpkins, dead cornstalks, and even a broken skeleton arm thrown haphazardly on my grass, attracting flies and a terrible smell. Attached to one of the pumpkins was a note, written in Brenda’s handwriting: “Since you’re the Halloween Queen, thought you’d enjoy cleaning up the neighborhood’s leftovers too!”
Anger surged through me. I marched to their door, barely containing my frustration, and knocked. Gary answered, his arms crossed, looking pleased with himself.
“Need something?” he asked with a smirk.
“Why is your garbage on my lawn?” I demanded.
“Oh, that?” he shrugged. “Since you’re still in the Halloween spirit, we thought you wouldn’t mind taking care of our stuff too. Think of it as a community favor.”
I was livid, but I bit back my response and returned home, determined not to let it slide. That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about Gary’s smug expression and his mockery of my decorations. A plan began forming in my mind.
The next evening, I gathered all the rotting pumpkins, cornstalks, and skeleton parts, piling them into a wheelbarrow. The stench was unbearable, but my anger kept me going. Once I’d loaded everything, I wheeled it over to Gary and Brenda’s house, making sure no one was watching. Their lights were off, which was perfect.
I “decorated” their yard with all the trash, setting up the skeletons in spooky poses, placing the rotten pumpkins along their pathway, and wrapping the cornstalks around their porch railing. For the final touch, I left a note on their door: “Just helping out with your community service. Happy belated Halloween!”
Three days later, as I was sipping my morning coffee, my phone rang. It was Brenda, and her tone was frantic.
“What did you do?” she screamed. “We’re losing our house because of you!”
Feigning innocence, I replied, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t act innocent! Ever since you dumped that trash on our lawn, we’ve been dealing with rats, and now the HOA is threatening us with fines!” Her voice was almost hysterical.
“Oh, the HOA, huh?” I said, barely holding back a chuckle. “Funny, because my security cameras show you two dumping that mess on my lawn first.”
She stammered, “But… you set us up!”
“Set you up?” I laughed. “Brenda, you trespassed on my property. I just returned what was yours.”
Desperately, she pleaded, “Please, you have to tell the HOA it was a misunderstanding! We’re facing thousands in fines, and we can’t afford it.”
Thinking of all the years they’d made my life harder, I simply responded, “Maybe next time, think twice before making your mess someone else’s problem. Good luck, Brenda.”
As it turned out, the HOA had already had complaints about their neglected property and pest issues long before Halloween. The rat infestation was simply the final straw. The HOA slapped them with fines for neglecting their property, health violations, and the rodent problem. With the mounting fines, they couldn’t keep up and had to sell their house.
On the day they moved out, I watched from my window as Gary loaded the last of their boxes into a U-Haul, while Brenda sat on the curb looking defeated. I felt a twinge of guilt but remembered how smug they’d looked, assuming they could dump their problems on me. In the end, they faced the consequences of their own actions.
Next Halloween? I think I’ll make the decorations even bigger.
