So, last Halloween, I walked outside to find my car covered in eggs. I thought it was a prank at first, but then I noticed the egg splatters reached my neighbor Brad’s sidewalk. Suspicious, I confronted him.
His response? “Your car’s blocking the view of my Halloween decorations.”
I was stunned. “You egged my car because it was parked in front of your house? You didn’t ask me to move it—you just ruined it?”
Brad shrugged like it was no big deal. “How can people appreciate my display if they can’t see it from the road? You park there every day. It’s ruining the vibe.”
My blood was boiling. “Brad, I’m a single mom with newborn twins. I park close because I have to carry babies, a stroller, and bags multiple times a day.”
Without a care, he replied, “Not my problem. Find another spot.”
I didn’t bother arguing. I stayed calm and pretended to understand so that he didn’t suspect my upcoming Halloween party revenge.
I wasn’t going to do anything illegal or destructive—I just wanted to teach Brad a lesson in the most satisfying way possible. See, Brad took his Halloween decorations way too seriously. His house was a full-blown haunted attraction, with fog machines, animatronics, flashing lights, and creepy music blaring through outdoor speakers. Every year, he aimed to be the most over-the-top house on the block.
So, I did what any rational, slightly vengeful person would do—I invited everyone in the neighborhood over for a Halloween party. And by everyone, I mean parents, kids, teenagers, elderly folks, coworkers… I even got my sister’s book club to show up.
My house became the hotspot that night. I had candy, games, and even a mini costume contest. The best part? Most people decided to park right in front of Brad’s house, unintentionally blocking the view of his decorations.
The cherry on top? Someone else must have taken revenge on my behalf because, by the end of the night, Brad’s fog machine was mysteriously clogged, and his speakers were making a weird crackling sound. His haunted house was a dud.
I thought he’d just sulk and move on. Nope. Brad stormed over to my house, furious.
“This is sabotage!” he barked. “You did this on purpose!”
I smiled sweetly. “Did what? Host a neighborhood party? Oh, come on, Brad. I thought you loved Halloween. The more, the merrier, right?”
He clenched his jaw, glaring at the line of cars parked in front of his house. “They need to move. People can’t see my decorations.”
“Well,” I said, crossing my arms, “that’s not really your problem, is it? They have every right to park there.”
I could see the realization hit him—my words were his words from just a few days ago. He opened his mouth, then shut it, fists tightening. With a huff, he stomped back to his yard, defeated.
Now, if the story ended there, it would have been satisfying enough. But karma wasn’t done with Brad.
A few days later, I noticed a city official in front of Brad’s house, inspecting his decorations with a clipboard. I went outside to eavesdrop, pretending to water my plants.
Turns out, someone had reported him for violating noise ordinances and blocking the sidewalk with oversized props. Brad argued, but the city official wasn’t having it. He was fined and forced to take down some of his display.
Now, I swear I didn’t report him, but I had a strong suspicion that some of my party guests—annoyed by his decorations and behavior—decided to take matters into their own hands.
Oh, but it gets better.
A week later, it rained. Hard. And Brad’s decorations weren’t secured properly. His expensive animatronics, his fog machine, and all the electrical work? Destroyed. Fried. The grand haunted house he had spent so much time and money on was now a soggy, malfunctioning mess.
I couldn’t help but think: maybe, just maybe, if he hadn’t spent his time egging my car and being an inconsiderate neighbor, he wouldn’t be standing in his yard, staring at his ruined decorations with his hands on his head.
After that, Brad toned things down. The next Halloween, his display was modest. No fog machines. No blaring music. Just some well-placed pumpkins and string lights. And the best part? He never complained about my parking again.
I guess he finally learned that being a decent neighbor is more important than showing off.
And honestly? It was the best Halloween karma I’ve ever witnessed.
What do you think? Was I petty or justified? Ever had a bad neighbor experience? Share your story!
