A while back I went to Vegas and left my keys at home. When I returned, the remote on the set of keys I always used just stopped working. Other set worked, so I swapped out the battery assuming it was a dead. Still no go, and remote #2 worked with the battery from #1. <p>Confused how it happened just sitting there, but not wanting to spend hundreds on a new remote, I switched keys and lived in harmony for several months. I used the dead remote when I would go to the gym or running, so as not to bring my massive (almost as big as my GF's set of keys... embarassing) keys with me. <p>Suddenly, this last week it started to work, which apparently drove key #2 into a possessed fury. I was walking out to my car (with both keys on me) and the panic alarm started to go off. Odd, as I've never accidentally set off the panic before, but possible within the natural realm. <p>Then last night I get home, lock the car and walk up the stairs to my door. Then like a bad scene from a horror movie, i realize something is wrong. I turn around to the soft glow of the parking and puddle lights. My car sat staring at me. Mocking me. Daring me to move lest it set off the panic alarm again at midnight. I slowly raise my arm and turn the puddle lights off, start backing up the stairs only to have them turn back on seconds later. <p> Being the obstinate bastard I am, I turned them off again, and made it to my door, looked back and they were back on. I gave up, went inside and hoped my car would start in the morning. I called the local Bishop and have an appointment to cleanse the FOBs in holy water.