So I come home last night, and I’m pulling my car on to the road opposite, preparing to reverse into the driveway. There’s two cars with their engines running and lights on behind me, but the drivers seem to know each other and are chatting with some bloke on the pavement, so I don’t really think anything of it. I get out of the my car to go open the gate to our driveway and WHAM, I look behind to see this massive Phil Mitchell lookalike, who’s just turned up out of nowhere, smashing in the windows of these two cars with a metal baseball bat. I jump back in my car as these other two speed off, away from this crazy bastard, and just as I’m thinking I should do the same thing he sprints past me, chasing them. They get away from him immediately, of course, so he turns round and looks me in the eyes. He looks pissed off but seems to realise that, whoever was in those cars, I’m not with them, and just wanders off, presumably to take some more steroids. I park the car up, grab a broom and sweep up the glass, as you just know it’d be me that ends up getting a puncture thanks to that bald bastard. As I’m sweeping, a couple of other people bring their yard brushes and help me out. It was like my very own mini-riot.