 Well, we commenced the truckin', and them hens commenced the cluckin', and then Earl took out a match and scratched his pants and lit up the unused half-of-a-dollar cigar and took a puff. Says, mine ain't this pretty up here. I says, Earl, this hill can spill us. You better slow down or you gonna kill us. Just make one mistake and it's the pearly gates for them 85 crates of USDA-approved cluckers. You wanna hit second gear, please?