Full moon. Flashlight in hand, Giles strolls around what's obviously a makeout site. Giles, my car's the next one over. He catches sight of Buffy, and asks her if she saw anything. She excitedly relays some scandalous gossip about two kids (one named "Owen," although I don't know if that's the same Owen from "Never Kill A Boy On The First Date") but at a look from Giles, she says she hasn't spotted the werewolf. Giles suggests they knock on a few windows and ask if anyone's seen anything. Buffy duhs, "Giles, no one's seen anything." Hee. They split up again. Buffy pauses, hears something at her feet, and is suddenly swept up into a large net. Some dude that bears a passing resemblance to a younger Paul Gleason emerges from the bushes, points a gun at her, and says, "Gotcha!" "Gotcha"? Dude, you need to take a class in remedial exclamations, methinks. Leave "Gotcha!" in the eighties where it belongs. Along with Anthony Edwards.