Every year, I go all out for Halloween. Cobwebs, skeletons, glowing pumpkins, a fog machine rolling mist across the grass — the full experience. The neighborhood kids love it, and their parents always stop by to take pictures. It’s my favorite time of year.
But not everyone shares that joy.
Gary and Brenda, my neighbors two doors down, have made it their life’s mission to complain about everything I do. Last Christmas, they said my lights were “blinding.” Before that, Brenda accused my garden of “ruining her view.” It’s always something with them. So when I left my Halloween decorations up a few extra days this year because work got busy, I figured they’d roll their eyes, maybe gossip a little — not what came next.
One chilly morning, I opened the door and was hit by the stench of rot. My stomach turned. My yard was buried under a mountain of smashed pumpkins, dead cornstalks, and busted Halloween junk. A note was pinned to one of the pumpkins.
“Figured you’d want the rest of the neighborhood’s decorations too. Enjoy cleaning it up since you love decorating so much!”
I recognized the handwriting instantly. Brenda.
My hands shook with anger. I stormed straight over to their house and knocked hard enough to rattle the frame. Gary opened the door wearing that smug grin that made my blood pressure spike.
“Morning,” he said casually, like we were old friends.
“Why is your trash all over my lawn?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.
He shrugged. “You’re the Halloween Queen, right? We figured you’d appreciate the extra décor. Consider it community service.”
That did it. I wanted to yell, to throw one of their rotting pumpkins right at his smirk — but instead, I walked away. If they wanted to be petty, I could be creative.
That night, as I replayed his words in my head, an idea started to form. By morning, I had a plan.
After work, I put on gloves, grabbed a wheelbarrow, and collected every foul-smelling pumpkin, cornstalk, and broken prop from my yard. Then I wheeled the heap two doors down to Gary and Brenda’s pristine lawn. Their lights were off. Perfect.
Piece by piece, I “redecorated.” I lined their walkway with collapsing pumpkins, twisted cornstalks around their porch railing, and propped skeletons against their windows. I even posed one skeleton climbing into their mailbox.
Finally, I left a note on the doorstep.
“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?” she screamed. “We’re losing our house because of you!”
I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You started this!” she yelled. “The HOA’s fining us thousands! Rats got into the house after your disgusting prank — chewed through wiring — and now we can’t pay the repair bills. The HOA says we’re being evicted!”
I calmly took a sip of coffee. “That’s terrible,” I said. “But funny thing — my security cameras caught you and Gary dumping that mess on my lawn first.”
“You set us up!” she shrieked.
“Set you up?” I said. “No, Brenda. I just gave you your decorations back.”
She went quiet for a moment, then begged me to tell the HOA it was a misunderstanding. I almost felt sorry for her — almost. But then I remembered every complaint, every sneer, every nasty comment.
“Maybe next time,” I said, “you’ll think twice before dumping your problems on someone else’s lawn.”
Turns out, the HOA had already been collecting complaints about them — the overgrown yard, peeling paint, constant noise. My footage just sealed their fate. They were fined for health and safety violations, and when they couldn’t pay, they sold their house and left the neighborhood.
On moving day, I watched them load boxes into a dented U-Haul. Gary looked defeated. Brenda sat on the curb, crying. For a second, guilt flickered in my chest — but then I remembered the pile of rotting pumpkins I’d found that morning and smiled.
Some people never learn: when you try to dump your mess on someone else, it always finds its way back home.
And this Halloween? Let’s just say my decorations will be brighter than ever.