If you’ve ever wondered what happens when an 18th-century criminal decides to raid a MAC cosmetics counter and a ruffled lace factory simultaneously, you’ve arrived at the aesthetic peak of Adam Ant. In 1981, Ant decided that being a mere post-punk musician wasn't enough; he had to reincarnate as a "dandy highwayman," a figure historically known for robbing people on the road, but re-imagined by Ant as a man who would likely refuse to mug you unless your wallet coordinated with his breeches. In his hit "Stand and Deliver," he prances about in more ribbons than a Maypole, demanding your attention with the subtlty of a glitter-covered sledgehammer. It’s this flamboyant commitment to being a "dandy"—a man so obsessed with his appearance that his primary weapon is basically a well-angled cheekbone—that birthed the inevitable, groaning dad-joke: A man receives a scam call from a voice claiming to be a dandy highwayman who spends his cash on looking flash, and when the victim tries to hang up, he finds the caller is simply Adamant.

The joke, for those who prefer their humor explained with a side of eye-roll, is a painfully bilingual pun on the singer’s name. It relies on the listener knowing that "Adam Ant" sounds identical to the word "adamant," meaning unshakable or insistent. The humor—if we are generous enough to call it that—lies in the collision between a 1700s road thief who is way too into his own eyeliner and the linguistic reality of a guy who just won't take "no" for an answer. It’s a bit like Ant’s fashion sense: it’s loud, it’s unnecessary, and it stays in your head long after you’ve asked it to leave.