I'm beyond frustrated, in fact I'm furious!

When I bought my home six months ago, my Realtor, Sharon, told me that the shack across the street was abandoned and would be torn down as it had been condemned by the city. She lied!

I've been complaining to the town about the unsightly appearance of the building and the accumulated junk spread all over the property. I went to the Health, Building, and Zoning Departments trying to get someone to enforce codes, but kept hitting brick walls, and getting the run around.

I decided to confront the neighbor directly and walked to his property, fighting my way to find firm footing through the rubbish to get to his front door, but I couldn't even find a front door. I saw what looked like a sliding barn door and called out to see if someone would respond.
What I heard instead, was a shotgun shell being chambered and someone say: "You're tresspassin, go away!"

I explained I was the neighbor next door and that we had to talk. No other words were exchanged, but a shot was fired in my direction, spraying pellets into a doorless refrigerator, and other discarded furniture, nearly three feet from where I stood.

He shot once again when I was trying to retreat to the safety distance provided, when I heard him laughing and yell: "Now Git!"

When I got back to my house, I poured myself a shot of Bourbon, while I called the Sheriff. After reporting the incident, a Deputy arrived at my house and I told him what had transpired. He said they got another call about a man fearing a home invasion and he told us that he had to defend his property and would use deadly force. He described you as being the intruder.

I explained that I went to the house to speak with the owner, and the Deputy told me that because of the complaint I was going to be arrested for trespassing and attempted burglary. I couldn't believe it. Out came the cuffs, and I was taken from my home, having been read my Miranda Warning.

Waiting overnight to be arraigned in the morning by the judge for this made up felony burglary charge, I was consumed with rage. First, having been lied to by my Realtor, and then to be accused of trying to burglarize the dump across the street, I began to devise my revenge on both of these people who lied to me.

Having grown up in Brooklyn, New York I've always subscribed to the eye for an eye means of resolving an issue, especially one that is personal. So, by the time I met with the Judge and he decided to release me with a trial date, I knew who I had to call.

It had been a long time since I spoke with my Uncle Tony. I gave him a brief description of the problem and he told me not to worry about anything. He was going to take care of everything, but I was probably going to have to sell my house and move back closer to the family. It would be a small price to pay, so I agreed.

Two days later, I received a call from a guy who worked for Tony. He asked for a few dates and times that I would not be home and where someone could vouch for my presence. I gave him the information and received a stern warning not to alter this schedule, and to make sure people can verify where I said I would be.

I hung up with great anticipation that something very bad was going to happen. I was right.
I was away all day the next Thursday at work and had a business dinner with my boss and clients that went until around 10:00 pm. While driving home, I was detoured and unable to get to my residence. The road was blocked and several Deputies were checking the licenses of drivers to try to re-route them.

When the Deputy's saw my license, they told me that I wasn't going to be able to return home for several hours because of the explosion. They proceeded to tell me that the house across the street caught fire and stored gas tanks ignited, setting the property and garbage on fire. One Deputy added that he didn't see how anyone could have survived such a fire. I already knew that if Tony's guys did this, I could bet my life that nobody survived.

The Deputy's suggested that I either spend some time at the local diner or try to stay somewhere else tonight because the Fire Marshall would be keeping the scene locked down.
I decided to drive to a Motel in the area for the night. The next morning while I was watching the local news, I listened to the anchor describe the fire and was shocked to hear that two people had died at the scene, wondering who the second person could be.

For weeks after the fire, various people combed the scene, looking for evidence. In the meantime, I listed my house for sale and prepared to move back to Brooklyn. The fire was no longer a local story to cover and seemed to disappear off the radar.

My house got sold, and I was now in Brooklyn in an apartment. I turned on the TV and began watching the news. The story about the fire had taken a new twist with the identity of the second dead person found at the scene. A picture of my former Realtor, Sharon appeared on the screen. I just stared at the screen.

A minute later, my phone rang. It was Uncle Tony, he said: "Joey, I heard you came back home. Good boy. I need you to do a favor for me..."