I marched outside, the offending baseball clutched in my hand like a grenade. Baron Bigshot was in his driveway, polishing his luxury car with the care most people reserve for newborns.
“Hey!” I shouted, storming up to him. “Your son’s baseball just came through my window. It nearly hit my daughter!”
He barely glanced up. “Oh? And you’re sure it was my son’s ball?”
I thrust the blueberry pie-lathered ball in his face. “Unless baseballs are falling from the sky now, yes, I’m pretty sure.”
He sighed like I was some peasant interrupting his important car-polishing duties. “Look, Ms…”
“Angela. We’ve been neighbors for three years.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Right, right. Angela. Do you have any proof it was my Billy’s ball?”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Proof? There’s pie filling on it!”
“Ah,” he nodded sagely, “so you admit you tampered with the evidence.”
I felt my eye start to twitch. “Listen here, Baron Big—”
“I beg your pardon?”
I took a deep breath. “Mr. Worthington. Your son broke my window. He could have seriously hurt my daughter. The least you could do is pay for the repairs.”
He chuckled, actually chuckled! “My dear, do you know how much that would cost?”
“Probably less than one of your car’s tires,” I muttered.
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t appreciate your tone. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a birthday party to prepare for. Important guests are coming, you understand. Out of my property!”
He said that. Yep! No apology. No NOTHIN’.
As he turned away, something in me snapped. “Oh, I understand perfectly. I understand that you care more about your fancy party than the safety of your neighbors!”
He spun around, his face red. “Now see here—”
But I was on a roll. “No, you see here! Your son has been terrorizing this neighborhood for months. We’ve all been too polite to say anything, but enough is enough. You need to take responsibility!”
“I suggest you leave now before I call the police for trespassing.”
Defeated and furious, I trudged back home, the sound of his expensive sprinkler system mocking me with every step.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of cleaning up glass and comforting a still-shaken Penny.
As evening fell, the sounds of Baron Bigshot’s party drifted over. Laughter, clinking glasses, and what I was pretty sure was a live band.
I was just about to close the curtains (what was left of them anyway) when I saw something odd. A group of young men in masks, all wearing football jerseys, was marching up Baron Bigshot’s perfectly manicured lawn.
“What in the world?” I murmured, pressing my nose against the wooden window sill divider.
Suddenly, they all raised their arms, each holding a football. And then, in perfect synchronization, they let loose.
Footballs rained down on Baron Bigshot’s party like a sports equipment hailstorm. I watched, mouth agape, as chaos erupted.
Guests screamed and ducked, champagne flutes shattered, and Baron Bigshot himself stood in the middle of it all, looking like a man who’d just seen his worst nightmare come to life.
As quickly as it started, it was over. The football players high-fived each other and jogged away, leaving destruction in their wake.
I was still trying to process what I’d seen when there was a knock at my door. It was Mrs. Stewart, grinning like the cat that got the cream.
“Did you see that?” she asked, barely containing her glee.
I nodded, still stunned. “What… how…”
She winked. “Let’s just say my nephew’s football team owed me a favor. Thought our dear neighbor could use a taste of his own medicine.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing, tears streaming down my face. “Mrs. Stewart, you’re a genius!”
She patted my arm. “Sometimes, dear, karma needs a little push.”
The next morning, I was enjoying my coffee when there was a furious pounding at my door. I opened it to find Baron Bigshot, looking decidedly less baronial in his rumpled pajamas.
“YOU!” he sputtered, pointing an accusing finger at me. “You did this!”
I took a sip of my coffee, savoring the moment. “Did what?”
“Don’t play dumb! The football attack! It ruined everything!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And do you have any proof it was me?”
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, clearly recognizing his own words being thrown back at him.
I leaned against the doorframe, feeling surprisingly calm. “You know, Mr. Worthington, sometimes life has a funny way of teaching us lessons. Maybe this is yours.”
His face turned an impressive shade of purple. “This isn’t over!”
As he stormed off, I called after him, “Oh, and Mr. Worthington? You might want to consider investing in some wooden planks for your windows. I hear they’re all the rage these days.”
I closed the door, grinning to myself. Penny looked up from her coloring book, curiosity shining in her eyes.
“Mommy, why was that man yelling?”
I scooped her up, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Oh, sweetie. He just learned a very important lesson about being a good neighbor.”
Well, folks, there you have it. Karma works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it? Sometimes it’s swift, sometimes it takes its sweet time, and sometimes it needs a little nudge from a well-meaning neighbor with connections to a high school football team!
So, tell me, have you ever had a neighbor from hell? A Baron Bigshot of your own? Drop your stories in the comments. After all, misery loves company, and nothing brings people together quite like tales of nightmare neighbors!
He has significantly reduced his weight with the passing of his wife.
The most beloved character from the American television series Dallas, Bobby Ewing, was portrayed by Patrick Duffy, who has since completely lost any vestiges of his former self. He seemed to have aged almost suddenly after the past year’s troubles.
The actor who played Bobby Ewing, Patrick Duffy, retains a particular place in the hearts of fans even though it has been more than 25 years since the last Dallas episode aired.
The general populace always reacts positively when they see him. His calm demeanor along with his attractive features may have made him a popular performer among the viewers of the American show.
Recognized as a sex symbol of the 1980s, Patrick Duffy just saw the movie “Warning shot” at a Beverly Hills, California theater. Linda Gray (77), a fellow Dallas set cast member best known for her role as Sue Ellen, joined the actor at the ceremony.
The 69-year-old actor’s visage betrays the anguish he felt following the death of his wife a year ago. Patrick Duffy lost a significant amount of weight and completely changed into an elderly man.
Fans were taken aback by the actor’s appearance, but Patrick Duffy showed that his endearing personality hasn’t changed over time by grinning and signing autographs for them.
Patrick Duffy was married to Carlyn Rosser, a former dancer who was ten years his senior, since 1974. In addition to four grandchildren, they had two children, Padraig Terence and Connor Frederick.
Despite speculation in the global media that the actor’s wife is in critical condition, he has stayed silent and taken a brief vacation from the spotlight.
Since then, the truth has come to light, and it seems that Carlyn Rosser passed away unexpectedly in the first few months of 2017 and that her family buried her in private. A few months later, Patrick Duffy disclosed to his fans on Twitter the anguish he was going through:
“My heart stopped beating precisely six months ago on this day. She made sure I continued to breathe because she wanted me to. We’ll be together for the rest of our lives.
“I appreciate all of your care and caring toward me. Just four years before to his tragic demise, the actor fought and defeated skin cancer.
Patrick Duffy learned that his parents, Marie and Terence Duffy, had been murdered in 1986 on the grounds of the Montana bar they owned while he was employed on the set of the television series Dallas.
Kenneth Miller and Sean Wentz, two young people, were apprehended right away once it was determined that they were the armed robbers.
They were all handed 180-year prison terms for their offenses, but Miller was freed the next year when Wentz acknowledged that he was the shooter.
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