The unbearable rankness of peeing
Someone peed under the Christmas tree.
Normally, the assignation of guilt on these kinds of infractions is a simple matter (size, color, timing, and location of the offense allow us to deduce the perpetrator through the careful process of elimination). Not so this time. All we know is that the crime was committed behind and beneath the tree within the last 24-36 hours. Due to massive intervening stacks of presents (which we pray remain unsoiled), we are unable to determine the precise location — all we have to go on so far is the smell.
The suspects and their modi operandi:
Linus. The perfect fall guy — after all, it's a tree and he's a dog. As a puppy,

Fabio. Fat, lazy, troublesome, defiant of authority. Also highly accident-prone.

Shmool. The dark horse. Enigmatic, intelligent, relentless, and flawlessly

Maus has erected a temporary barricade that should at least discourage recidivism in the short run. Tonight the presents come out to be sorted for distribution, which will facilitate a more thorough investigation of the crime scene. And there's always the nuclear option of leaving the electric train plugged in — that would root out the culprit in short order, I should think.
4 Comments:
BAD DOG!
BAD CAT!
What'd the guy do to get his chest pooped on? You must have done something to piss that poor cat off. I'm just sayin'. . .
Ah, the infamous poop-on-the-sleeping-guy incident. The crime: the victim fell asleep in Shmool's chair. So yeah, he had it coming.
Nothing like a mystery!
Post a Comment
<< Home