Making a Deal with the Neighbors

The elves had been pounding on my door for some time now. I steeled myself to ignore them, but finally the sound was too much to not respond to. I turned off the computer and went to the door.
There were three elves there, all looking fairly angry. One of them, an older one with sharp eyebrows like spikes and pale eyes that made the pupils stand out like weapons, stood a couple of 
feet in front of the others and seemed to be the leader.

“Your car is parked on top of our house,” he chirped.

I had trouble reconciling his anger with the tonality of his voice, but he was clearly upset and clearly to be taken seriously. Small as they were, I had no ides what elves could do if they 
wanted revenge.

“But I’ve been parked there for two days,” I said, keeping my voice low enough not to startle them. “Why are you so insistent now? You could have let me know sooner, or put up a marker near 
your house so that no one would park on it.”

“We were off fixing shoes.” He was almost spitting with anger now. “We don’t stay home all the time.”

Hmmm, I thought. I could turn this to my advantage.

“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “I’ll move my car, but you have to do something for me in return. You fix shoes. I need new tires. I’ll move my car off your house if you make my tires good 
as new. Including the spare.”

Well, they held to the bargain. Maybe. I backed my car off their hovel and my life changed drastically. In my new world it’s dark all the time, and the air around me smells like rubber. Food 
is delivered. I have internet. I have television. My phone rings often with good, though squeaky, conversation.

So it’s good living inside a spare tire. Sometimes I worry about my old house, with mail piling up and the garden untended. Or maybe the elves live there now. If they do, I don’t care. 
Life is too good for me to be concerned about things like that.