So in my junior year of high school, I received a project to build a roller coaster for my physics class. Everything was going fine until the day my partner and I had to paint the thing. We were in my garage spray painting the tubes when two guys came marching up to the house across the street, yelling at the top of their lungs and pounding 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 the tale of how my whole block discovered that the abandoned house had new owners.