MY NEIGHBOR THREW EGGS AT MY CAR BECAUSE IT “BLOCKED THE VIEW” OF HIS HALLOWEEN DECORATIONS.
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.
Halloween was just around the corner, and Brad had no idea what he was in for. I could have argued, called the police, or even egged his house in retaliation, but I wanted something more creative, something that would make Brad regret ever messing with me and my car. So, I spent the next few days planning my ultimate Halloween revenge — something that would hit him where it hurt most: his precious decorations.
Brad’s Halloween displays were legendary on our block. Every year, he went all out — life-sized skeletons, animatronic zombies, fog machines, you name it. People from neighboring streets would drive by just to see his spooky spectacle. He was so proud of it, and I realized that if I could mess with his display, it would be the ultimate payback. But I needed to be subtle. After all, I didn’t want to stoop to his level by damaging his property. I wanted him to feel the same frustration and annoyance he’d caused me, without breaking the law.
I started by getting a few friends involved. We had a group chat, and I asked them to help me pull off a “strategic distraction” during Brad’s big Halloween night. The plan was simple but effective — we would all park our cars in strategic spots along the street, just close enough to Brad’s house to obstruct the view of his display from different angles, but not so close that we were actually blocking traffic or violating any rules.
Then, I set up my own Halloween display. Now, normally, I didn’t bother with much more than a few jack-o’-lanterns, but this year I went all out. I bought inflatable ghosts, hanging skeletons, and even rented a huge, 10-foot inflatable pumpkin that lit up and played creepy sound effects. I placed everything just right so that it completely dominated the view from the street. Brad’s display was good, but mine was now just as eye-catching — and it was on full display, while his was partially hidden behind our “strategically parked” cars.
The night of Halloween arrived, and my friends came over early to help set everything up. We made sure to park in all the prime spots, just like we planned. And, of course, I parked my car right where it was the day Brad had egged it, making sure it was once again blocking his display from the best view. I even made sure to wipe the egg stains clean, just in case Brad thought he could get away with doing it again.
Around 6 PM, the trick-or-treaters started to come out. Kids were running up and down the street in their costumes, and parents were slowly driving by, enjoying the festive decorations. Brad’s display was as impressive as ever — he had added some new animatronics this year, including a witch stirring a bubbling cauldron, and there were speakers playing eerie Halloween sounds. But as soon as the cars pulled up, their view was obstructed by our parked vehicles. It wasn’t enough to completely ruin his display, but it was just enough to make people miss the full effect — and they would have to crane their necks or get out of their cars to appreciate it. Meanwhile, they could see my gigantic inflatable pumpkin and my decked-out front yard perfectly.
It didn’t take long for Brad to realize what was happening. I was outside, handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters, when I saw him pacing in his driveway, glaring at the parked cars. He looked around, his face turning redder by the second, and when he spotted me, he stormed over.
“What the hell is this?” he snapped, gesturing wildly at the cars. “You’ve parked all these cars here on purpose to block my decorations!”
I gave him my sweetest, most innocent smile. “Oh, Brad! They’re not blocking your decorations. Everyone can still see them — they just have to walk a little closer. Besides, this is a public street. We’re allowed to park here.”
Brad’s eyes narrowed. “You think this is funny, don’t you? You’re just doing this to get back at me.”
I shrugged, still smiling. “Funny how it feels when someone does something to ruin your hard work, isn’t it? But don’t worry, Brad. I’m sure people will still see your display. You just need to relax a little. It’s Halloween, after all!”
He was fuming, but there wasn’t much he could do. I hadn’t broken any laws or done anything that he could complain about — not like when he’d egged my car. And throughout the night, as more and more people came by to see the decorations, they had to weave between our parked cars and look closer at his display, while mine was in full view. I even heard a few of the kids and parents complimenting my setup, which just seemed to make Brad’s blood boil even more.
But that wasn’t the end of it. The real cherry on top came later that night. Around 9 PM, I had arranged for a local food truck to swing by. It was a late-night snack truck that sold warm pretzels, hot chocolate, and apple cider, and it was very popular around the neighborhood. I had invited them to park right in front of my house, so people could grab a snack while they admired the decorations. Naturally, that meant more people crowded around my display, and Brad’s became even more obscured.
Brad came over one last time, and this time he was practically seething. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head. “You’ve done everything you can to ruin my Halloween.”
I didn’t lose my cool. I just looked at him and said, “Brad, all I did was park my car. The same way you decided to throw eggs at it. But you see, I believe in solving things differently. I’d rather make Halloween fun for everyone, instead of being petty and ruining someone’s night.”
He stared at me for a moment, then turned and walked away without another word. I could tell he was defeated, but it felt good to stand up to him without stooping to his level. And as the night went on, kids and families continued to enjoy the decorations, the food, and the festive atmosphere — all while Brad’s display faded into the background.
The next morning, I found a note in my mailbox. It was from Brad. It simply read, “I get it. Sorry.”
I smiled to myself and tucked the note away. Brad never egged my car again, and we maintained a polite, if distant, relationship after that. Sometimes, he would wave when he saw me, and I’d wave back, but I knew he had learned his lesson. And every Halloween since, I’ve set up my display and parked my car right where it needs to be, just as a little reminder.
Sometimes, karma doesn’t need to be loud or aggressive. It just needs to be smart, and a little bit strategic.
