When I regain consciousness, it's morning. The sun is just rising over the hills, and the birds are starting to tune up for their morning concerto. I am laying sprawled in the middle of the street, with a painful lump on my forehead.

The street is quiet. My yard is empty. Inside my house, nothing is out of place. Everything seems normal. Except for the dead police flares on the street and the ring of heavy boot prints all around my house, there is no sign of last night's pandemonium.

I call the police station, the fire department, and King 5 News. All of them tell me the same thing, phrased in the exact same way:

"We have no knowledge of any emergency taking place on your street last night."