I was setting a stone in a small country Missouri cemetery once and had some troubles. I finally get it level and set right, but the sun was setting and I still had a 50 mile drive back to the shop. I'd been alone in the cemetery all day, but then I heard the most terrible noise. I can't describe the sound, but the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. I picked up a crowbar and went to investigate. And there, behind a yew tree, I found...a guy who was trying to learn the bagpipes. He didn't know there was anyone around and his wife wouldn't let him try to learn at home because "it scared the chickens." Other than this small vice he was pretty nice guy.