Punishing My Thief Neighbor

The wicked old lady next door stole my cherries, so I made a laxative sausage to lure her into a trap.

The 4J cherries that I bought from Walmart were stolen again from the doorstep. After checking the surveillance footage, I discovered that Kim, the neighbor next door, an old lady, took them.

I contacted Kim to retrieve the stolen cherries. Brian, her son, an idler, distorted the truth in the homeowners' chatting group, accusing me of being petty for a few fruits and bullying his 80-year-old mother who liked to collect junk.

Brian slapped me in the face with a 20 dollar bill and shouted angrily,

"It's just some cherries. This is enough for you to buy ten boxes."

I bought a large bag of pickled sausages and mixed the remaining laxatives in my house evenly into the sausages.

Don't you like picking up things at other people's doorsteps?

Mixing laxatives with sausages makes the taste even better. I invite your family to appreciate the deliciousness of my homemade sausages.

——

When I got home from work in the evening, I found that the 4J cherries I ordered from Walmart were not placed at the door.

I looked everywhere several times, even checked the fire hydrant and water tank, according to the pictures from the courier, but I couldn't find the missing cherries.

Then I could only come to one conclusion that was most unbearable for me:

Someone stole my cherries again!

Why did I say "again"? Because this was already the third time my Walmart delivery has been stolen.

The first time was a box of tangerines. I thought someone had accidentally taken the wrong one, so I didn't mind much since it wasn't worth much money.

The second time it was a box of apples. It was such a heavy box that anyone took it by mistake would open it and checked. But I still wondered if it was accidentally lost by the cleaner when cleaning the hallway.

This time, the stolen cherries were like an invisible slap in my face.

This is clearly intentional!

I looked up and glanced at the hidden corner next to my door frame. Thanks to my vigilance after my apples were stolen, I spent a lot of money to install a high-definition camera.

Otherwise, I couldn't find out the thief.

I opened my laptop and snuggled in bed to start checking today's surveillance videos.

Wow, it was the neighbor next door.

At 1:37 PM, the deliveryman wearing a blue safety helmet placed the cherries at my doorstep, took a photo, and turned around to the elevator.

At 3:28 PM, Kim appeared at my doorstep, holding her grandson with a backpack on his back. She carefully examining the words on the packaging box, she skillfully dragged my cherries back home with her grandson.

She didn't even look around suspiciously like a thief, but rather naturally as if she was taking her own delivery. In the corridor, she opened the packaging box by herself. The surveillance footage even clearly showed the red pattern on the cherry box, which made my heart ache.

I had argued with Kim's family many times about the clutter in the corridor. They just moved in and filled the shared corridor with all kinds of stuff, as if the corridor belonged to their family. Every time I came home from work, I could smell the stinky smell from their shoe rack.

"Oh, come on, what's the big deal? We have so many people in our family, naturally we have more things. You're just a single guy living here, how much space do you need in the corridor? Open the windows if you don't like the smell."

If it was just the stinky feet smell, I could hold my nose and bear with it. But several times, I found my delivery boxes and newspapers that were ready to be sold as scrap mysteriously appearing in their clutter.

When I tried to confront them in the homeowners' group chat, they pretended to be dead.

When I complained to the property management about their behavior, Ruby, Ruby, acted as if it had nothing to do with her and instead advised me not to ruin the harmony between neighbors over such a small amount of money.

Harmony? What a joke!

Over time, in the surveillance video, Kim opened the door again. She stuffed the cherry packaging box into the corner of the hallway, and then inspected the place where I put the waste. She skillfully took away a stack of flattened delivery boxes.

I was furious and immediately kicked Kim's door.

"Open the door, you old hag! Give me back my cherries!"