Spine didn’t leave Scumbag’s park because she was dramatic.

She didn’t leave because she was “hard to get along with.”

She didn’t leave because she was causing trouble.

She left because she made one simple, reasonable request:

“Please stop dumping leaves in my driveway,

asking me to compost them with my car,

and expecting me to walk through them to get my mail.”

This was apparently too avant‑garde for Scumbag and his management partners at Chipoopa Realty — a company whose name sounds exactly like the level of professionalism they delivered.

They acted like she’d suggested banning football.

Neighbors acted like she’d insulted their meemaw’s potato salad.

Someone probably wrote a Facebook post about “people who hate nature.”

Meanwhile, The General was delighted.

He loved the leaf piles.

He loved the mice living in the leaf piles.

He loved the snakes that came for the mice living in the leaf piles.

He loved the idea of Spine having to wade through his personal wildlife buffet just to get her mail.

But Spine did not.

So she packed up her two hounds, one cat, a magical fur goblin, and the one‑eyed wild thing, and on February 22, she arrived in Liberty County — hopeful, peaceful, and ready for a fresh start.

The universe said, “Absolutely not.”

Because on February 22, the very day she arrived, Lula activated like a motion‑sensor light that detects new peace entering the county.

She stomped.

She printed.

She waved papers like she was the CEO of Law & Disorder.

She declared rules that had never existed and cited statutes that had never met a lawyer.

Spine tried to ignore it.

She tried to breathe.

She tried to let the hounds walk it off.

But by March 31, Lula had escalated from “mildly irritating” to “full‑blown porch‑opera.”

She was hollering.

She was pointing.

She was inventing regulations faster than the county could deny them.

By April 4, Spine moved — not because she was scared, but because she was tired of Lula hollering her name like she was summoning a spirit.

She settled at Lake Mystic, breathed once, and thought,

Well… that was unnecessary.

And then came April 17th.