The neighborhood had been peaceful until my new neighbor, Sarah, moved in. Sarah loved throwing parties—loud, obnoxious ones that kept the entire block awake. Normally, I wouldn’t mind, but it was becoming a regular thing. The day she asked me for a favor, I thought I might finally get something out of all the late-night noise.

Sarah knocked on my door one morning, looking frazzled. “I’ve been called out of town for work, and my house is a mess from last night’s party. Could you clean it up? I’ll pay you $250 for the trouble.”

Extra cash always comes in handy, so I agreed. When I stepped into her house, I was shocked. It looked like a hurricane had hit. Empty bottles, trash, and sticky stains were everywhere. It was a two-day job, but I got it done, thinking of the $250 waiting for me.

When Sarah returned, I went over to collect my payment. But the moment I mentioned the money, her smile faded. “We never had any agreement,” she said, crossing her arms.

I was stunned. “Excuse me? We agreed on $250.”

“No, we didn’t. I don’t remember that. Sorry.” She shrugged and turned back to whatever she was doing, clearly dismissing me.

We argued back and forth, but she wouldn’t budge. Finally, I left her place, furious. I sat at home, seething, thinking about the hours I’d spent cleaning up her mess for nothing. But then, an idea popped into my head. If she wanted to play dirty, I could play too.

I waited about 20 minutes, just long enough for her to relax, and then I went back. But this time, I wasn’t there to argue.

Sarah had a lovely front yard, always perfectly manicured, which she took great pride in. I’d noticed earlier that she had a sprinkler system set to go off every morning. I walked over to her front yard and found the sprinkler controls. A few twists of the knob, and I’d adjusted them to spray water directly at her front door and windows instead of the lawn.

I smiled to myself and went home, feeling a bit better.

The next morning, as expected, the sprinklers went off. I heard Sarah scream from across the street. I walked outside just in time to see her opening the front door, only to be blasted with water. Her perfectly styled hair was ruined, and her makeup ran down her face. The water had also soaked her newly delivered packages, which were now dripping wet. “Hey, Sarah!” I called out, trying to hide my grin. “Looks like your sprinklers are a bit off.”

She glared at me, dripping wet, but I just shrugged. “Maybe next time, you’ll remember our agreement.” The best part? After that morning, Sarah’s wild parties stopped. It seemed she didn’t want to risk any more “malfunctions” around the house. And while I never got my $250, the peace and quiet were worth every penny.