It was Much Adoo about Something this morning at 7th and Montana as word spread that someone crapped all over the floor in the rest room at Our Favorite Starbucks. "You're kidding," I said, "Who would do such a thing?" "Who knows," said one insider, "But believe me, we've seen a lot worse!" I grabbed my Spycam and set out to solve the mystery. I started by compiling a list of potential suspects, then narrowed the field one-by-one. Was it Mayor Bobby? Unlikely: It's his brother-in-law, the Governator, who shovels the shit in that family. Was it Neighbor Robin? Impossible: She's been dealing with enough crap already, this weekend. Could it be Academy Award-winning Actress Renee? No way: She grabbed her coffee and ran today. That left two major suspects.
Rigolatte, the man known for locking himself in the rest room and belting out opera tunes for hours on end. He had the means. He had the motive. But did he have the street smarts? He was up to his old tricks this morning -- yodeling loudly while handling out biblical literature -- but defecating in public has never been his strong suit.
Then there was Proud Papa Hunter, who made the scene this morning with two-week old Baby Bryce. Bryce, it must be said, is off-the-hook. He was wearing a diaper. As for Hunter, he's an unlikely culprit. He was completely engrossed in taking care of Bryce. But if years of watching Law and Order have taught me anything, it's that crime knows no boundaries. Could he have been using Bryce as a decoy? I took Hunter off the list of official suspects, but decided he was a person of interest.
Time was ticking away. I knew I had to act fast, before the trail went cold. "Excuse me," I said to a Nice Lady who was sitting next to me, "Dooty calls!" I went directly to the scene of the crime. The door to the rest room was closed. I pointed my Spycam at it and waited. Minutes later, Genevieve emerged with a big -- practically shit eating -- grin on her face. "Aha!," I cried, "Gotcha!" "I'm innocent!," she said, "Besides, I arrived after the deed was done!" It was time to interview the only surviving witness, Barista Kevin.
"So," I began, "I hear you were first on the scene?" "Yes," he said flatly, "I cleaned it up. It's nice to know I have a talent in life." I asked him to describe the evidence in detail. He gave me all the poop ... and it didn't take long for me to add two and two. "Eureka!," I cried, "You don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to crack this case. What we have here is a simple case of Mistaken Identity. Someone was just trying to use an Apple Fritter as a door stop!"