She tried to fight it, of course. Hired a lawyer, made a scene, even started telling other neighbors that I was “out to get her family.” But the documents were airtight. The law was on my side. Her contractor friends? Useless now. There was nothing left to demolish—except her pride.
Eventually, Linda backed down. Her grill disappeared. The deck got trimmed. And that part of her yard? I turned it into a rock garden, complete with motion sensors that activated sprinklers if anyone stepped over the line. “Just for plant hydration,” I said with a smile.
The best part? I never raised my voice. Never broke a single law. All I did was smile, wait, and let her destroy the one thing she never thought she’d lose—control. Now, when people ask me why there’s a stone frog flipping the bird at Linda’s yard, I just say, “It’s decorative. And territorial.”