Right. One night on stage, there is Georgia Brown, who was a great singer. There was Jimmy Baldwin, and another guy - Albert Finney, I think. We decided, because we'd had quite a bit of champagne, to get up and sing the blues. That's when Jimmy said to me, "Annie, I can't sing." I said, "Well, kind of talk it." We did. It was like when I was making Superman III or IV, whatever it was, and Richard Prior, who I adore, was sitting talking while they were setting up the next shot. He said to me - he was recovering from that terrible accident. He was in pain most of the time. He said, "I've just got the rights to a story about Dizzy and Bird." He said, "I'll play Bird." I said, "No, you should play Dizzy." He said, "Really? Why?" I said, "Because he had a spontaneous sense of humor. He was so funny." He said, "Annie, I'm black, and I don't know about music." I reached over, and I patted him on the back, and I said, "I'll teach you." And then I thought, what! What am I doing? What am I saying? He was an exceptional guy. He knew who I was. He brought over a chef, and a barber, and bah dah bah dah bah. The day after I met him was my birthday. I went to my door after the bell had rung, and there were four dozen roses from Richard. That was a dear man. At the time I was appearing in - what's the name of that Gilbert and Sullivan?