The Halloween Revenge: A Spooky Tale of Payback
Halloween has always been my favorite time of year, a season where I can transform my yard into a haunted wonderland. Each October, I deck the place out with cobwebs, hanging ghosts, and gravestones, delighting the neighborhood kids with my spooky flair. This year, I took it to another level by building a haunted maze and adding a giant, glowing witch that lit up the night sky. The compliments flowed in, but there were two familiar voices missing: Gary and Brenda, my self-entitled neighbors.
For years, they’ve made it their mission to criticize everything I do. From complaints about my Christmas lights being “too bright” to insisting I move my garden for their “view,” they seemed to believe the whole neighborhood revolved around them. After yet another of their little tricks, I decided it was time for some payback.
After Halloween, I planned to clean up my decorations, but work got in the way, and they lingered a little longer than intended. One morning, as I stepped outside for my newspaper, a foul smell hit me like a brick wall. To my horror, I discovered a pile of rotting pumpkins, dead cornstalks, and broken skeletons right in the middle of my lawn, complete with a note in Brenda’s unmistakable handwriting: “Figured you’d want the rest of the neighborhood’s decorations too. Enjoy cleaning it up, since you love decorating so much!”
Anger boiled inside me. How dare they assume I would clean up their mess? I stormed over to their house, determined to confront them. When Gary answered the door with that smug smile of his, my resolve hardened.
“Is there a reason your garbage is on my lawn?” I demanded.
His response? A casual shrug. “We thought you wouldn’t mind picking up ours too. Since you’re the ‘Halloween Queen’ around here.”
Stunned, I realized they genuinely thought they were doing me a favor. After years of dealing with their entitled behavior, I couldn’t let this slide. That night, I hatched a plan. If they wanted to share their Halloween trash, I would happily return the favor.
The next evening, I gathered all the rotting decorations and wheeled them over to Gary and Brenda’s house under the cover of darkness. Their lights were off, and as I arranged the remnants of their “gift” all over their front yard—skeletons in creepy poses and squashed pumpkins lining their path—I felt a rush of satisfaction. I even left a note: “Thought I’d help with your cleanup, since you love community service so much. Happy belated Halloween!”
Three days later, my phone rang. It was Brenda, and she was furious. “What did you DO? We’re losing our house because of you!” she screamed.
I leaned back, enjoying the irony. “So, the HOA finally got tired of your ‘spooky junk’?” I asked, relishing every word. Apparently, their negligence had led to a rat infestation, and the HOA was threatening fines.
With my security cameras showing them dumping their trash first, I was in the clear. The consequences of their actions swiftly caught up with them. They were hit with fines for neglecting their property, and ultimately, they had to sell their home.
As I watched them pack up their belongings into an old U-Haul, I felt a flicker of guilt—but then I remembered their smug faces and their years of complaints. They got exactly what they deserved.
And next Halloween? Oh, I think I’ll make it even bigger. After all, the “Halloween Queen” is just getting started!