 probably maybe ninth grade, eighth grade, in my house. And this bully would ride his bike up and down my street daily, making sure that I didn't go over and see this girl. And she liked me. And she kept saying, why don't you ever come over? And I go, well, you know, I got chores to do. I was worried about Ken Fennell riding his bicycle. Oh, he got the name. Yeah, yeah, yeah.