I had gone out clubbing with some of my friends and had gotten tired of dancing so I was sitting at the bar. Unfortuantely all my friends wanted to keep going so I was basically by myself, and as we all know, there is saftey in numbers. So there I am playing with the cherry in my Shirley Temple when this man walks up and takes a seat next to me. I look at him and he looks pretty cute and rather sweet looking, so when he says "Can I buy you a drink" I say sure. He tosses a 20 at the bartender and says a "Milk for the lady and me." We start sipping, but right off I start getting this bad feeling about this guy. Maybe it was his red eyes, I don't know what, but beneath all that sugar coating I could tell he was rotten to the core. After the milk was finished I thanked him and started walking away and that was where the trouble started. He grabs my wrist and says "Hey cutie, where you going?" I wrench it away from him and tell him back to my friends. As I turn away he catches my belt and pulls me into his lap, "But I bought you a milk he says, don't you OWE me something?" And so I start screaming "Let go of me you gingerbread freak!" The bartender called in the bouncers and had the guy thrown out of the club. The rest of the night was OK till I had to walk back to my car. There he was leaning against the door. My friends had all parked on the otherside of the club and since it was after closing, the parking lot was deserted. I turned and started walking away, but he started running after me chanting "Run Run Run, as fast as you can, I' gonna CATCH you I'm the Gingerbread man!" Its hard to run in clubbing shoes and so he quickly over came me and tackled me from behind. I screamed as he pulled back my hair and put a knife to my throat. "I'm here from hells bakery to teach you a lesson you kitchen wench! Wish you hadn't accepted that milk, huh sweettooth?" I suddenly remembered my self-defense class I had taken at the VFD and so threw in from me in one smooth motion. He was now in front of me, the knife gone from his little cookie hand, bashing at my face. I was hysterical, and not knowing what else to do I started biting him. I took off his right arm and the top of his head, and then the battering stopped. I oppend my quickly blackening eyes to see that he was gone. The parking lot was empty and before me were the pieces of him that I bit off. That was all that was left of him, but the bruises, but I know he's still out there. And every night when I am walking to my car after work, I always expect to see him there, wanting his arm and the rest of his head back, even though I have changed cities five times in the past year. Because I know that even if I run as fast as I can, he'll catch me, cause he's the gingerbread man.