After a night of Zorro at Geoff Sherson's, the remaining few made to leave. Bryan, Mark, Chelsea and I were escorted outside by Geoff and Berith, only to find that Bryan's brand new Volvo had been broken into.

A call to the cops procured two cars, four policemen and apparently some dogs. Mark was rather insulted that the robbers (for want of a better word) hadn't attempted to break into his Corolla, and also that the cops didn't seem to care about his car, or the possibility of fingerprints on it.

Due to the shattered glass through the back of Bryan's car, we (Chelsea and I) elected Mark to chauffeur us back to the flat.

As we pulled up to a stop sign, Chelsea showed signs of distress, as another car narrowly missed us as it cut the corner. Mark whispered sweet nothings, and smiled reassuringly, which soon calmed her down again. Or, at least got her excited over something else.

We made it to Flat 680, whole and safe. After a drink (tea, not alcohol), we decided that it was time to do some investigating. The view from our back door shows a rather prominent street that comes off Dominion Road. Chelsea has long been trying to find the name of this street, and the three of us decided that 3:30am on a Saturday was the right time. Little did we know.

Although Chelsea and I had expected to drive over, Mark felt that we all needed some exercise, and decided that we should walk over.

Several minutes, a Beatles song, and that-mysterious-laugh-from- behind-the-hedge later, we reached Foch Ave. Disappointed to say the least, we made the expected "What the Foch?" jokes, and headed back up Dominion Road.

It was about 4am by this time, so when Mark stated ominously that "There's a guy with a chainsaw," Chelsea and I just nodded and smiled. However, when Mark started off up a side street, we became a little concerned about his state of mind.

"Ah, that road doesn't go back to Sandringham," Chelsea informed him.

"I don't care," came the unexpected reply. Chelsea and I looked at each other, then another remark from Mark had us checking out an unusual sight indeed.

Coming toward us, down Dominion Road, was a man brandishing a chainsaw. Revving the saw as he came toward us, he was undoubtedly an unwelcome, and panic-invoking sight.

Chelsea and I followed what we now realised was a brilliant example from Mark, and ran up the side street. I think it can only have been our lack of fitness that stopped our flight, as we were still wetting our pants (figuratively speaking) when the chainsaw-wielding man was well out of sight.

A brisk walk home and many a nervous glance behind us, then Chelsea rang the police from the flat. I know Chelsea has a thing for guys in uniforms, but in this case, twice in one night was just one too many.

After glasses of hot milk and the like, and nervous giggles from all of us, Mark left, and Chelsea and I fell asleep to the soothing sounds of the Pink Panther on early morning tv.