In 1975, when Bart and I were in fifth grade, we decided to skip class, visit the forbidden garden that abutted the schoolyard, and hang our friend, Mickey, from a tree. We took care choosing the tree: it had to be able to support 55 pounds, have strong low horizontal branches, and be by Main Road so passing motorists would see his small frame swinging in the breeze. Our knots were poorly tied and more poorly placed: we almost cut his testicles off. A motorist stopped and frowned. We slinked away, later getting detentions for being in the garden.