A Man Built This Trap in His Backyard, and It’s Disgusting How Well It Works

“How does Mr Calhoun keep his yard looking so nice?” Mr Osaka and Mrs Turner stood at the bank of mailboxes and looked across the street at the verdant green. Mr Osaka scratched his balding head.

“Oh, you don’t want to know,” Mrs Turner said. Osaka looked at her, one eyebrow raised, until she said, “Fine, follow me.” She led him across the street and into her backyard, adjacent to Calhoun’s. At the rear corner of the house, between the perfect front yard and the gorgeous backyard, stood a small toolshed. Painted all in black, it had a single door and a sign that read “XBox Room—Keep Out.”

“So?” Osaka said.

“You know all those fraternities two streets over?” Mrs Turner could see Mr Osaka tense. “I see you do. Noticed they’ve been more quiet lately?”

“Not really. But… I guess they haven’t woken up me or Alan, lately.”

“Right. They sneak in here to play Mr Calhoun’s XBox in his little shed, here.”

“So?”

“So after that, they don’t bother us, and Mr Calhoun gets a fantastic mulch.”

“Oh my god,” Osaka said. “And I called those frat boys useless.” He looked over the lush lawn. “Think he’d share?”

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