Just after sunrise, I placed a cheerful gnome beneath my rose bushes, hoping to brighten the yard. Moments later, my grumpy neighbor Josh emerged.
“What is that?” he barked.
“A gnome,” I replied. “He’s delightful.”
“They’re cursed,” Josh warned, eyes narrowing. I dismissed him, but the next day my house was engulfed in smoke from Josh’s “sacred cleansing lanterns,” all aimed at my yard. Game on. I retaliated with ten gnomes facing his pristine hedges. Josh, flustered, called the HOA. Soon, a clipboard-wielding inspector deemed my decorations—and even my porch swing—“non-compliant.” Defeated, I moved the gnomes to the backyard.
