My Neighbors Threw Their Rotten Halloween Decorations in My Yard So I Would Take Them Away, But I Taught Them a Lesson
When my neighbors decided to dump their decaying Halloween leftovers on my lawn, they expected me to clean up their mess without a fuss. But after years of their petty stunts, I’d had enough. It was time for a little payback—and to expose them in a way they never saw coming.
Halloween has always been my favorite time of year. I go all out with cobwebs, spooky ghosts hanging from the trees, giant spiders on the porch, and gravestones in the flower beds. The neighborhood kids love it. This year, I took it up a notch with a haunted maze and a towering inflatable witch that glowed at night, drawing compliments from people just walking by. But naturally, not everyone was a fan.
Enter Gary and Brenda, my neighbors two doors down, whose sense of entitlement knows no bounds. These two have complained about everything I do: last year, they moaned about my Christmas lights being “too bright”; the year before, Brenda had the nerve to demand I move my garden because it “blocked her view.” This Halloween, it seemed my decorations were their new target.
After Halloween passed, I meant to take down the display, but work got hectic, and the decorations stayed up a bit longer than usual. Then, one chilly morning, I opened my door to fetch the paper and was greeted by an awful stench. A heap of rotting pumpkins, dead cornstalks, and broken skeleton parts was dumped right in the middle of my yard. Flies buzzed around, and the smell was nauseating. Stuck to one of the pumpkins was a smudged note that read, “Since you love Halloween so much, we thought you’d enjoy everyone else’s leftovers.”
I recognized the handwriting—Brenda. My blood boiled. It was one thing to complain, but this was a new low.
Furious, I marched over to their house, where Gary opened the door, looking as smug as ever. “Something you need?” he asked, his smirk barely concealed.
“Why is your junk all over my lawn?” I demanded.
“Oh, we figured since you’re the ‘Halloween Queen’ of the neighborhood, you wouldn’t mind taking care of everyone else’s leftovers too,” he replied with a shrug. “Think of it as community service.”
The audacity left me speechless. Part of me wanted to turn around, clean up their mess, and be done with it. But then I thought, why let them get away with this? As I stewed over their “favor” that night, a plan started to form.
The next evening, I gathered every foul pumpkin, cornstalk, and broken skeleton they’d dumped on my yard, piling it all into a wheelbarrow while holding my breath against the stench. Then, under the cover of darkness, I wheeled everything over to Gary and Brenda’s front yard. Carefully, I arranged the rotting decorations along their path and steps, positioning skeletons in creepy poses—one “guarding” their mailbox, another “climbing” their porch. To top it off, I left a note on their doorstep: “Thought I’d return the favor. Happy belated Halloween!”
Three days later, I was sipping coffee when my phone rang. It was Brenda, screeching, “We’re losing our house because of you!” Apparently, the HOA had finally had enough of their neglected property, pests, and complaints from neighbors, and this mess was the last straw. They were being hit with fines they couldn’t pay.
Feigning innocence, I replied, “Funny, my security cameras show you dumping those decorations on my lawn first.” Her silence told me everything.
Turns out, the HOA had already been dealing with complaints about their unkempt property. With video evidence in hand, the HOA dismissed every accusation they’d made against me. The fines for property neglect, pest infestations, and health violations piled up, and Gary and Brenda had no choice but to sell their home.
On their final day, I watched from my window as they packed a beat-up U-Haul. As they drove off, I felt a twinge of guilt but quickly remembered their smug faces and how they thought they could dump their problems on me. In the end, they got exactly what they deserved.
And next Halloween? I think I’ll go even bigger.