"You know," Hank said at the BBQ, "yours was the last to sell on the block. There was a while when we didn't think anyone would buy it, and no one could figure out why."
"Don't know why myself," John said. He took a sip of his Schlitz. "It's the same style as the other houses on the block."
"Well, sure," Hank said. "Except for the butto on the roof. It's like you expect a giant thumb to come down from the sky and press it and all the lights come on."
John never felt the same way about the house after that.