After months of radio silence,

Phoebe came home to find her sister Holly,

brother-in-law Nicholas, and their kids unpacking bags in her living room.

They’d blown their house-sale profit on a

“year-long travel dream” that fizzled in weeks and now,

without warning, had used a spare key from their mother to “crash for a few months.”

Phoebe was furious, but instead of an ugly scene,

she called her old friend Alex a natural prankster who,

by pure coincidence,

showed up wearing a police costume from earlier that day.

Playing along, Alex introduced himself as “Officer Johnson,”

warning Holly and Nicholas that refusing to leave could mean charges for trespassing and breaking and entering.

The color drained from their faces. In a flurry of whispered panic, they packed,

returned the spare key, and bolted, kids in tow.

Phoebe watched them drive off, then finally let out the laugh she’d been holding in all evening.

Later, over coffee, Alex reminded her she’d done the right thing.

And as she looked around her now-peaceful living room,

Phoebe realized some lessons are priceless: never give out spare keys lightly — and karma,

when it comes fast, is the sweetest eviction notice of all.