Margie wasn't typically the sort of person to get angry quickly; it had always been her philosophy to maintain good relations with all her neighbors. When Mark and Diana had first moved into their neighborhood roughly 2 years ago, there had been no reason to treat them any differently. Mark's rudeness had put her off a little the day before, but the call last night really drove her over the edge. Grabbing a can of roach spray from her bathroom was the easy part, but she couldn't understand what on earth the couple needed a Francophone for so early in the morning. Upon her arrival, she was tempted to let loose a barrage of carefully chosen French profanities on the 2.

When she did arrive, though, all anger evaporated. Her jaw dropped; there wasn't any appropriate response to the spectacle before her.

Or, in other words, that wasn't before her. Margie walked around the premises 2 laps in total bafflement, an easy task for what had apparently happened in the night. Then she said out loud to herself-

"Diana, where's your house?"