We were driving to the giant, touristy mall called the Forks on our one-and-only free day. We were all excited to finally get the chance to take a break from the cramped chruch and go shopping and go-karting. We pulled into the gravel parking lot, where we were so distracted by the huge, weird-looking bridge nearby that we almost didn't notice the purple minivan that parked right between our two church vans at the very same moment. "Hah, we sandwiched that car. I wonder if it's the group from Minnesota. I heard they came up in a regular van," someone said.

We were about to get out when we saw that the middle-aged woman who had been driving the minivan had gotten out, slammed her door, and stomped her way over to the driver's side window of the other van, where our youth leader, Matt was sitting. We couldn't see or hear much, though we opened our windows slightly to try to catch a few words, and we did. Those words were, "...HELL!" and "...HOOLIGANS!" From what the people in van under attack told us, she was accusing us of throwing rocks at her car. Matt tried to calmly explain to her that this was impossible, seeing as how our vans only have windows on the side that open very slightly, and they were closed. He suggested that maybe, since we were driving on a gravel road... But the woman wouldn't hear any of it. She went on a crazed rant about how her children would never do such a thing because they go to Catholic school, and everyone in her church is better than the likes of us and we would never be welcome there. Also, we were going to be judged in Hell. When Matt (who is quite soft-spoken and abhors this kind of confrontation) had finally had enough, he said, "God will judge all of our sins, and He alone will judge our sins. Have a great day," and rolled up the window.

However, the woman apparently had not gotten all of the screaming out of her system, because she proceeded to storm over to the window of our driver, Tree (a very tall, people-person from the last story). She then said shrilly, on the verge of tears it seemed, "Those hooligans in the other van threw rocks at my car and you people continue to DENY IT!" Tree, remaining pleasant, replied, "Well, if that's true, that was very wrong of us to do."

She obviously had no idea what to say to that, but was still quite angry. She backed away, waving her arms manically and screaming, "I just can't DEAL with you people! You hooligans! HOOLIGANS!!!" She paced back and forth a few times, pulling at her short, curly hair, until it occured to her to write down the name of our church, which was painted on the side of the vans. Her teenage daughter had apparently already written down our license plates from the passenger seat of the minivan. A girl in our van said she felt sorry for her, but the scowl that was escaping from under her giant, bug-like sunglasses suggested she wasn't at all embarressed.

The woman must have thought the act of writing down our church name was a threatening enough gesture to end her rampage with an air of now-we'll-see-who-gets-the-last-laugh and she drove away. Our theory is that she was a hardcore Catholic who saw our van, noted that we weren't Catholic like her, and when a pebble from the gravel road got kicked up and hit her car, she naturally assumed it was us. Us with our dirty, slightly different belief system.

Everyone exclaimed how the lady needed to be locked up and put on heavy mediaction, but I maintained that she just started menopause, was recently fired from her job, and her mom probably just died. Her dog, too.