I occasionally hear one of those 'grapevine' stories. The typical grapevine account containing a report from your aunt's brother-in-law's ferret's best friend's owner's grandfather's youngest child.
I occasionally believe those grapevine stories. They occasionally sound like legitimate tales.
So when I hear a legitimate tale, I usually want to go tell someone what I heard. But when I do, I sound like that nosy neighbor lady who whips up some crème brulée for the bird flu-infested lady up the street just to get some insignificant, yet intriguing information out in the open.
For the sake of not wanting to sound like that neighbor lady, I'll refrain from climbing that grapevine for now.
But just know that I may have a grape right off the vine, dispensed by my aunt's brother-in-law's ferret's best friend's owner's grandfather's youngest child.