 Lagernail for Marty, Larry. Whiskey for me. Right you are. Oh, here's a letter for you from St. Paul, Minnesota. And a lady's writing. Uh-huh. Didn't it come from my daughter, Anna? She lived there. I don't get letter from Anna. Must be years. That's a fine fairy tale to be telling your daughter. Sure, I'll bet it's some bum. No, no. This come from Anna. But...