My Bathroom Floor is Getting Funky

My lease is expiring on my apartment in soul-sucking UTC (I'd rather keep the acronym than give it the gift of a name). Thus I cannot bear to do anything about my bathroom floor.

There is some stain in the corner, a shadow of something that isn't a shadow at all. And dustballs, like little tumbleweeds, roll across the linoleum desert whenever I take a piss.

Clothing is also scattered. So be it.

My neighbors upstairs, the Crackhead Student Nazis, bang around every night around 1 am like epileptics without their padded clothes. I've tried going up and complaining, and am always intercepted by a duo of plain-faced college girls who front the operation with an apologetic dumb look. Their boyfriends, they shrug, and apologize again. Later on, back in the corner prefab square of my room, I hear occasional bellowing grunts drifting through the window on a breeze that smells like stale curry.

My next goal is to dump my garbage on their doorstep every morning around 4 am. Would this start a war? I must remember to remove any identifying documentation.