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One specific horror involved George O’Feeney, an elderly Irish bloke who moved to Bat$#!+ from Dublin in 1962, seeking a green lawn and a place to call his own. As soon as he had the inclination, O’Feeney began a formal petition to change the name of Bat$#!+ to something more “proper” (O’Feeney’s word), like Elm, Oak, or some other tree. But before O’Feeney could secure a single signature on his petition form, the Grogan boys broke into his home one evening and cut his head off. The next morning George O’Feeney’s limbs and torso were scattered up and down Bat$#!+ like pumpkin fragments the day after Halloween. The moral of the George O’Feeney story: The name of the street stays. Enjoy it, suppress your hatred for it, or move away. But nobody ever moved away from Bat$#!+ Avenue. You were born there, suffered incredible torment there, and died there (usually in a wackily violent manner). - From Bat$#!+ Avenue