So during my junior year of high school, I received a project to build a roller coaster for my physics class. Everything was going well until the day my partner and I had to do the painting. We were in my garage spray painting the tubes and these two guys come marching up to the house across the street and start yelling at the top of their lungs, beating on the door. In my defense, the neighborhood I lived in was in south Dallas and it's still not a safe place. I called the police, closed the garage, and positioned myself in front of the dining room window. In short, the police arrived fully armed, broke down the door, and escorted the two boys out at gunpoint. And that's how my entire block found out that the abandoned house had new owners.