If you now know his address then stop being so polite, go and park your tractor on his front lawn...
Some years ago, the owner of rather a posh stately pile was somewhat surprised to see a family turn up in rather a clapped-out old car, before proceeding to have a picnic in his grounds - which weren't open to the public.
Rather than disturb their outing, he hopped on a bike, rode past and noted their number plate. As is the norm with the upper class, he was dressed like a tramp in tatty old clothes and the family paid him no attention.
The following day, he managed to persuade the Chief Constable to find out where they lived.....
And so the following weekend, a gleaming chauffeur-driven (borrowed) Roller stopped outside a modest 2 up 2 down in some nearby town. From the boot came a picnic table and chairs, wicker hamper, champagne etc., which were duly set up on the tiny front lawn...
The tenant and his family rushed out to find out WTF was going on. "You had lunch on
my lawns last week, so now it's my turn to have lunch on yours!", was the obvious answer.
But then the occupant of the Roller said that no harm had actually been done, so at his suggestion they all settled down to demolish the champagne and to share the hamper. The point had been made, but no-one and nothing had been hurt and they parted amiably a couple of hours later.
That was style!