 I mean, not with your hands. No, the cows. Oh, they were calves. They were born dead. And then they would sit out in the sun and turn to a bag of jelly. And then I would have to go pick them up and put them on a pile. Make the audience vomit. Proud of yourself? Did you get work satisfaction out of that? And then I would drive over and dump them on what we called the used cow pile.