I never expected to become an amateur actor just to teach my nosy neighbors a lesson, but here we are.
It all began when Carla and Frank moved in next door. They were odd but polite—until I discovered a camera aimed straight at my backyard. When I confronted them, they claimed it was for “security.” Furious but not wanting to drag it into court, I came up with a different plan.
With help from my friends—Samantha, Miguel, and Harriet—we staged a ridiculous backyard “crime scene” right in view of their camera. There were costumes, fake blood, and dramatic performances. When Samantha collapsed “stabbed” in a pool of ketchup, we made sure the act was convincing.
Apparently, too convincing. Sirens wailed minutes later. We scrambled to clean up before the police arrived. Playing innocent, I explained it was just backyard improv. The officer raised an eyebrow—how did anyone even see it through my high fences?
That’s when I dropped the bomb: “My neighbors have been recording me without consent.”
Turns out, that was enough. The cops seized Carla and Frank’s surveillance gear, and they were hit with charges. A day later, they left town with their suitcases—and I finally enjoyed my garden in peace.
A week later, new neighbors moved in. I decided to welcome them with an open mind—but kept my costume box close. Just in case.
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