Ronnie chuckled. "I did, they're all bad." As he spoke, a scraggly looking fox, with bald patches of fur, walked up to the car, and knocked on Ronnie's window. He smiled, and rolled the window down. The fox spoke. "What're you here for?" Ronnie shrugged. "We're looking for 32 Byron Place." The fox nodded, and pointed down the street. "Head on that way, about three miles." Ronnie nodded, and pulled away.