 You know, I mean, I wake up every day, and, you know, no one's knocking at the door in a long black jacket with a luger and ready to take me off to, you know, God knows where. But my rent goes up. I get billed. I'm on Medicare. I get these ridiculous Mickey Mouse bills for $500 for God knows what. You know, somebody came in to my hospital room when I was half-drugged out of my mind there for something, and he checked my spleen, and then they, you know, it's a consultant fee. You know, and then, oh, you didn't pay the bill, like all...