The turd was actually a piece of steel wool that I twisted around to make look like a turd then I told Chris that McKenzie had dropped a deuce on the stairs. (For want of a better word, McKenzie is Chris's 'dog.' I use the term dog quite loosely, it's more like a rat. In a sweater. Imagine a grown man walking a bug-eyed dog who's wearing a sweater! And Chris wonders why we say he's a little light in the loafers.)
Knowing he wouldn't believe me, I took a picture of the 'scene of the crime.' You should have heard him squeal "McKenzie!!!" when he dashed into the house, it was actually quite pitiful. Then you should have heard him scream, "You ARSEHOLE!!!!!!" when he realized he's been had.
Again.
PTN