YOU move my car.
I remember a small act of malicious compliance I had whenever I was still living with my parents when I was in high school. I had to leave for work and I realized my younger sister‘s car was parked behind mine. I asked her if she could move it for me so I could leave. I figured if she moved it and I pulled out then she could simply pull back into the driveway and park where I was. Easy peasy.
But nope. She, for some reason, had an attitude and said “No, you move it.” In a rather snippy tone. She couldn’t even be bothered to give me her keys. Irritated, I grabbed them and left.
One thing to note is that our grandparents lived across the street from us. They owned a few acres of land and their house was one of those houses that was built on top of the hill that was a solid 100 to 120 yards away from the main road. And the entrance to their long runway of a driveway was another hundred yards away from our parents’ house. So as I was moving her car, I had the thought to drive up their driveway and park it by their house.
Took me a couple minutes to walk home, drop her keys off and leave. She never refused to move her car again.