The situation escalated loud parties, 3 a.m. karaoke, and even a backyard drum circle. Then karma stepped in. One afternoon, she actually called emergency services about the same toilet claiming it was some kind of sewage threat. The firefighters arrived, took one glance, and told her to quit wasting their time. Unbothered, she upped the ante hauling her lounge chair to the roof with a margarita in hand.
But her rooftop victory pose didn’t last long. Her sprinkler system kicked on mid-sunbath, sending her sliding into her flowerbed. Soaked, muddy, and humiliated, Shannon finally dialed it back. The toilet disappeared. She put up a privacy fence. And peace returned. “Is it safe now?” Jake asked over breakfast. I smiled. “Yeah. The show’s been canceled.”
