Yeah, right, exactly. So anyway, I run into my studio, and it's like a little bit stronger there, but not quite as much. And I keep on thinking also, if this is coming from outside, is it coming in through the windows? I run into the guest room, and I don't know. It's kind of stronger in there, but not quite. I run upstairs. Like I'm running through pockets of this smell, this smoky, acrid smell, and I can't figure out what it is. There is not smoke in the air that you can see. It's just a burning smell, right? I come running back downstairs. At some point, Genevieve is looped into this. I don't know if I ran outside and said, Steve, something is burning. I can't pinpoint it. Genevieve comes in. She's like, oh, it doesn't smell like burning to me. It just smells like it smells strongly like linseed oil. Genevieve had we have these new outdoor chairs, these wooden chairs that Genevieve rubs down with linseed oil. And she had just done that, I believe, earlier that day. And Genevieve runs into this little storage closet we have. And when I say storage closet, it's like a it's one of those places in the house that guests don't see. Right. Like we inherited it. It already had some cans of paint and various other. Yeah. Just kind of stuff that came with the apartment as, you know, the colored paint for these walls and floors and, you know, some rags and old paintbrushes and that kind of stuff. Plus, we throw our own toolboxes in there. It's a complete mess in there. It's where every kind of, like, compound we have goes in there or tools or anything like that, gardening equipment. Genevieve opens up that door, and it hits us like a wall, this burning smell of linseed oil. Genevieve goes back into the corner where, on top of a big paint bucket, she had thrown the three rags she'd been using to, you know, put the linseed oil on the chair. She picks it up and audibly yelps and drops it because they're hot, Luke. The rags are burning. They're spontaneously combusting. There was not a flame yet, but there was smoke. Quick question, though. Am I panicked about the fire? Yes, you're panicked. Luke, they were smoking hot rags. You saw the photo of it. It looks like some sort of weird shroud of tauren because of the way it was bunched up in the corner. And, like, it turns out Genevieve then, you know, we realize that it's the rags. We throw them in the sink. We pour a bunch of water. And the house reeks. Tierra and Phyllis could not be more chill. They actually come inside. The weirdest thing about this story, not to put them on blast, is that's the moment that they decided that they wanted to start hanging out inside. Even though it smelled like acrid smoke and it was pleasant outside. I don't know. The party just came inside while Genevieve and I are just running around thinking, like, how in the world could this have happened? And then she pulls out the jug of linseed oil. And we, I say we, because I don't want to make it sound like I'm pointing fingers here, but it was she, because I didn't have anything to do with it, just did everything wrong, Luke. Literally everything you could possibly, like the back of the can says, like, as the rags dry, as linseed oil dries, it becomes combustible. Make sure not to, like.