Exhausted from sleepless nights with her newborn twins, Lily and Lucas, Genevieve barely had the energy to keep up with life, let alone Halloween. While her neighborhood buzzed with festive excitement, she was simply trying to survive. Her next-door neighbor Brad, however, was another story—he was the self-proclaimed Halloween king. Each year, he turned his house into a horror show with skeletons, gravestones, and giant jack-o’-lanterns, basking in the neighborhood’s admiration.
But for Genevieve, Brad’s haunted circus was just background noise. She had too much on her plate to care about his elaborate display.
One October morning, Genevieve, cradling Lucas and with Lily on her hip, stepped outside only to find her car splattered with eggs. Shell fragments covered the hood, and yolk dripped down the windshield. This wasn’t just a random prank; it felt personal. She remembered parking in front of Brad’s house the night before and realized his decorations might’ve been slightly obstructed by her car.
Fuming, Genevieve decided she’d had enough. She marched to Brad’s house, her exhaustion giving way to anger, and knocked on his door. He opened it with a smug grin, framed by fake cobwebs and skeletons hanging in carefully arranged chaos.
“Is this about my car?” she demanded, pointing down the street at her egg-covered vehicle.
“Oh, did you figure it out?” he replied with a smirk. “Next time, maybe don’t park in front of my display. People come from all over to see it, you know.”
Genevieve, barely holding back, fired back, “All I care about is getting through the day without dealing with childish stunts.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, leaving him speechless. She had no time for Halloween drama, especially from a grown man who couldn’t see beyond his own “haunted attraction.”
