When sleep-deprived mother Genevieve discovers her car covered in eggs, she assumes it’s a joke — until her arrogant neighbor Brad admits he did it because her car was blocking the view of his elaborate Halloween display. Genevieve, furious but too fatigued to debate, decides to teach him a lesson.
I was so exhausted that I couldn’t remember if I had washed my teeth or fed the dog.
My days had become a haze since the twins were born.
Don’t get me wrong, Lily and Lucas were gorgeous, but raising two babies on my own was a Herculean feat. I hadn’t slept all night in months. Halloween was just around the corner, and the neighborhood was buzzing with excitement, except for me.
I couldn’t muster enough energy to decorate, let alone keep up with the suburban festivities.
Then there was Brad.
The man took Halloween extremely seriously, as if his life relied on it. Every year, he transformed his house into a haunted carnival, complete with gravestones, skeleton dioramas, and massive jack-o’-lanterns.
And the arrogant expression on his face whenever someone complimented him? Please.
His display captivated the entire neighborhood. What about me? I was too busy trying to keep my eyes open to be concerned about Brad’s stupid haunted house.
It was an ordinary October morning when everything began to unravel.
I walked outdoors, carrying Lily on one hip and Lucas in my arm. I blinked at the image in front of me. Someone had egged my car! Broken pieces of shell were embedded in the semi-congealed ooze, which was trickling down the windshield like a twisted breakfast special.
“Are you kidding me?” I muttered, staring at the mess.
I’d parked in front of Brad’s house the night before. It’s not like I had many options. The twins’ stroller was too heavy to push all the way down the street, so I parked near to our door.
At first, I assumed it was a prank. But when I realized the egg splatters extended all the way to Brad’s front porch, my suspicions became to certainty.
This had Brad written all over it.
Brad’s magnificent Halloween display had no claim to the curb, but that didn’t bother him. Throughout the Halloween season, the man was as possessive as a wolf.
I marched over to his house, scarcely able to contain the wrath that was building up inside me. I hammered on his door harder than I probably should have, but I didn’t care. I was done playing nice.
“What?” Brad opened it, his expression more smug than normal. He folded his arms across his chest, and I believe the arrogance radiated from him.
His house was already fully decked out for Halloween. The house was over-the-top, with fake cobwebs hanging from the gutters, a plastic skeleton waving from the porch, and a witch relaxing in an Adirondack chair.
I made the most of my time. “Did you see who egged my car?”
Brad did not even blink.
“I did it,” he said, as if he was telling me the time of day. “Your car’s blocking the view of my decorations.”
I stared at him, stunned. “You egged my car because it was parked in front of your house? You didn’t even ask me to move it, you just ruined it?”
He shrugged, completely unfazed. “How can people appreciate my display if they can’t see it from the road?”
I blinked. For a second, I thought I might have misheard him. “Are you for real?”
He had the audacity to shrug.
“I’m the Halloween King! People come from all over to see this display, Genevieve. I’m just asking for a little cooperation. You’re always parked there. It’s inconsiderate and it’s ruining the vibe.”
Inconsiderate? I was barely holding it together while balancing two babies, and this man, this egomaniac, was talking to me about inconveniences?
“Well, I’m sorry my life gets in the way of your spooky graveyard,” I snapped. “I’ve got twins, Brad. Newborn twins.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, leaning against the doorframe like we were discussing the weather. “Maybe you should park somewhere else.”
“I park there because it’s easier for me to reach my car when I’m carrying two babies and hauling a stroller!”
Brad shrugged. “That’s not my problem, Genevieve. Listen, you can park there again after Halloween is over, okay?”
I stood there, speechless, my rage boiling over. But weariness is weird like that; it extinguishes wrath before it can blaze too brightly.
“Fine,” I snapped.
Instead of screaming, I turned around and walked back inside, shivering with fury and disbelief.
But things clicked when I cleaned the egg off my car later.
Brad wasn’t your typical, overzealous neighbor. He was a ʙᴜʟʟʏ, and I had enough. If he wanted to play dirty, that’s OK. I was going to play smarter.
As I sat in the nursery rocking Lily to sleep that night, a brilliant idea occurred to me. Brad’s vulnerability was his pride. He needed his haunted mansion to become the talk of the community. I didn’t have the energy for a confrontation, but what about revenge? That’s something I could handle.
I waited a day before casually strolling over to his yard, where he was placing more decorations to his front porch.
“Hey, Brad,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “I’ve been thinking, it really was inconsiderate of me to block your display. You always put so much effort into it… have you thought about giving it an upgrade?”
He paused, suspicious. “Upgrade?”
“Yeah, like some high-tech stuff. You know, fog machines, ghost projectors. You’ve already got such a great setup, but if you really want to impress people, those would take it to the next level.”
His eyes brightened, and I knew I had him.
Brad was predictable. If there was an opportunity to outperform the neighborhood, he would take it.
I rattled off some of the brands I had investigated. They were all bad machines with one-star evaluations, known for breaking down and exhibiting weird flaws. But he didn’t have to know that.
“You think so?” he asked, already mentally designing his Halloween masterpiece.
“Oh, absolutely. You’d be the talk of the neighborhood.”
And I went away, satisfied. All I needed to do now was wait.
When Halloween night arrived, Brad’s house resembled something out of a horror movie. He’d gone all out, as expected.
A group of children and parents gathered on the sidewalk to watch the fog wash across his lawn. Brad stood in the midst of it all, soaking in their esteem.
I sat on my porch with Lily and Lucas snuggled in my lap, feeling like a villain in a low-budget drama. I have to concede that his arrangement was remarkable — until it didn’t.
The fog generator sputtered exactly on time, and instead of producing the creepy, atmospheric mist, it began spraying water like a garden hose. The crowd gasped, the kids giggled, and Brad panicked.
He dashed up to the machine and fiddled with the buttons, hoping to make it stop.
But it wasn’t over. The ghost projector, his treasured centerpiece, flickered on and off, creating a twitchy, cartoonish ghoul who resembled a crazed blob rather than a ghost. Parents chuckled, and the youngsters burst out laughing now.
Then came the final blow. One of his inflatables, a massive Frankenstein, crumbled in slow motion, with its deflating head rolling humorously across the yard.
Some adolescent lads thought it was hilarious, and with Halloween spirit in the air, they grabbed a carton of eggs and hurled them at Brad’s house with gusto.
Brad was losing it, racing back and forth, attempting to save what little dignity he still had, but it was too late. His haunted house of horrors had become a haunted house of comedy, and there was no turning back now.
The next morning, when I was feeding Lucas, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find Brad looking deflated. Much like his Frankenstein. He wasn’t his normal smug self, and for a brief moment, I nearly felt awful.
“I, uh, wanted to apologize,” he mumbled, not quite meeting my eyes. “For egging your car. I overreacted.”
I crossed my arms, taking my time before responding. “Yeah, you did.”
“I just… I didn’t realize how hard it must be, you know, with the twins and all.” He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry.”
I let the silence hang for a moment longer, watching him squirm. “Thanks for apologizing, Brad. I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
He nodded quickly, eager to escape the awkwardness. “No, it won’t.”
As he turned to leave, I couldn’t help but add, “Funny how things have a way of balancing out, huh?”
He glanced back, and for once, Brad had nothing to say.
