Getting smashed

I spent this weekend in Brisbane celebrating the birthday of Kao, one of my very best friends. As I zipped along the highway in Celeste - my new (to me) little car - I made an excited note to photograph and introduce her to you when I got home. Sadly, I did have reason to photograph her, but the introduction is more of a display of her injuries than her beauty.
But let me start at the beginning...
As I mentioned, this weekend Kao had a small birthday celebration in honour of turning twenty-six, and invited me to stay the night and spend her acutal birthday with her as well. Last night we joined her many friend eating and drinking to excess. We played board games, mingled, and headed out for a spot of drunken Karaoke, which was incredible fun. And then we headed home - still a little drunk, very sleepy, and incredibly hoarse. Today we had brunch with her housemates and wandered the streets of West End, running into lots of fun people she knows. A wonderful weekend, had that been the end of it.
But it wasn't. We came home last night to find Celeste looking less than the proud red lady she had been only hours before. While we were out, somebody (or bodies) has wandered past, most likely drunk, and proceded to jump on my little car repeatedly, smashing her windscreen, denting her roof, and leaving her scratched and broken.  I was shocked. And saddened. And confused.
What posesses someone to damage someone else's things for the mere sake of damage? What drives them to such a foolhardy act? And how do they feel afterwards? Did they think about it this morning with guilt, or mirth? Did they give a second thought to who might have owned the car, and how it might affect their lives? It hurts to think people can be so uncaring and so unworried about the consequences of their actions. And it angers me to think that they will face no punishment for their actions, while I will have to pay an excess and lose my no-claim bonus simply for being unlucky.