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Saturday, Dec. 29, 2001
Editor�s Note: Certain elements of this story may be offensive to those who frequent animal rights lectures and group discussions of neuveau or avante garde clothing, art and / or correct thinking. The publisher will not assume any responsibility for much of anything, let alone mental anguish.

Scene 1, Act 1
The manly cave known as the shop where Outfoxed-style gentlemen gather in hopes of a days work. Enter Stu, stage right (the back door).

Stu: �Hey, guess what? Patty just called me on the cell phone and said someone took a dump in our driveway last night.�

Having little else to go by, the gentlemen summarily grunted and waited for further data to emerge.

Scene 1, Act 2
Same cave, fast forward one hour

Stu: �Hey guess what? Patty just called and gave an update. Seems that the dumpee was gracious enough to use paper. Thing is, he got it out of the Suburban, and it happens to be from her personal box of tissues.�

Perhaps one eyebrow raised. We are at least halfway used to this sort of thing, albeit not quite on this level of sanitary disfunctionality. Fred, busily cleaning a box of wood scraps, happened to voice some interest.

Fred: �Just exactly how did the phantom shitter get into your car, lad?�
Stu: �Oh, she never locks it. Go figure.�

The rest of us bent to our various tasks and awaited the inevitable.

Scene One, Act 3
Same locale, give it one more hour

Stu: �Hey, she called again and I think I got the whole story now.�

Immediate pandemonium ensued as we clustered for the skinny. Seems that in the wee hours of a sub-freezing Friday morning, somebody had come up Stu�s driveway, dropped the trousers and had a moment of sublime bliss in between Stu's truck and the family Suburban. Failing to find a roll of paper hanging conveniently on the side of either, the perpetrator evidently scanned the interior of the �Burb and found tissues a plenty. Ignoring the obvious CD�s, change, and $500 worth of pool cues in the unlocked car, the perp grabbed just enough tissue to complete his mission and move on. Needless to say he left no trace, save for the smoldering pile with a tissue on top.

Theories abounded. First in line for suspects was the paperboy, advanced by Outfoxed as the prime candidate.

OF: �Got to be him. Who else is out wandering around at that hour?�
Fred: �Yeah, but you�d think he would have used his own newspaper instead of risking discovery by opening the car door.�
OF: �Newsprint would have been a dead giveaway.�
Fred: �Good point�.
Stu: �I dunno, but I know I got the doody.�
Junior: �Might have been somebody walking their dog. You know, sympathetic pains and all.�
OF: Could be. But why wouldn�t he have hauled it off in one of those trendy plastic bags they carry? Paper boy, for sure.�
Stu: �Gimmee a beer. I still got the doody.�
OF: �What in hell are you raving about?�
Stu: �I�m tellin� ye, I got to go home and do my civic doody.�

Scene Two, Act 1
The Watering Hole, 4 pm

Stu: �Greetings all. You�ll never guess what turned up in the driveway this morning.�
ensuing description of the past 12 hours
Barmaid: (laughing)�Oh shit!�
Stu: ��Xactly my point.�
OF: �Well, at least this will afford you an excuse to powerwash the driveway. I�ve been telling you for years that it looked like crap.�
Stu: �Not a problem. Patty�s got it all under control. You can bet I�m not getting into all that.�
Fred: �Thought you said it was your duty.�
Stu: �Do you guys ever believe anything I say?�

Patty arrived to a chorus of cheers and the cluster of clean shot glasses signifying a free one grew alarmingly in front of her. She listened patiently to a barrage of questions put to her and held up a hand for silence.

�I�m not touching it. Y�all can come over and post it on the internet for all I care. It�s just disgusting, it is, disgusting.�

Barmaid: �Hey Stu, you thought this was a lot funnier before Patty got here.�
Fred: �Patty, can you give any details on color? Consistancy?�
Junior: �What about the revenge issue? We haven�t addressed that at all.�
Stu: �Naw, the ex-son in law is still in prison. Besides, he woulda stole the �Burb and then crapped in it.�

Scene 2, Act 2
New patron enters the Hole

OF: �Hey there, pull up a stool����

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