 It's the little things I remember about you, Cynthia. That last laugh I got, that was the littlest one I ever remembered. You got that sigh of relief when vacation time came around and everyone got two weeks, but you, you got six months in the county jail. Ah, Cynthia, when they spring you, I'll be there. To meet the million-dollar baby from the five-and-ten-cent store.