Boy and I both have kind of boring jobs sometimes, so to break up the day, we’ll send each other crazy hypothetical e-mails. This is one such exchange:
Boy: You’re attending a dinner party with a number of cute puppies: a schnauzer, who is a professor of Linguistics at Harvard, an English bulldog who was a Colonel during the great war, and a brash Beagle puppy from the Americas. During a brief blackout your host, an Irish wolfhound puppy, is shot and killed. Who killed him?
Me: Question: What is the Irish Wolfhound Puppy’s background history?
Boy: The Irish Wolfhound Puppy opened a small glassworks factory, and during the summer of ’02 his finely crafted serving dishes became all the rage among upper class ladies of West Yorkminstershireton, allowing him to become a veritable titan of industry. With his newfound wealth he built himself a huge mansion filled with servants, whereupon you have found yourself presently engaged.
Me: I believe the correct answer is the Schnauzer. He met the Wolfhound puppy at an upperclass party in West Yorkminstershireton. At this point, the finely crafted serving dish business was but a dream, but the Schnauzer saw the opportunity for a major windfall so he invested money in the business and helped the Wolfhound make the right connections to ensure its profitability. However, things quickly got complicated as it turned out that the Wolfhound had been embezzling money from the company (in which the Schnauzer was a silent partner) to fund his addiction to Snasauges and backalley crotch lickings from Carlotta, a rather saucy chihauhau, on the East side. Distraught at this betrayal, the Schnauzer took matters into his own paws, faked the blackout and shot the Wolfhound before depositing the gun in the nearby dumbwaiter during the ensuing chaos.
(Also, the Schnauzer couldn’t stand having competition for the cutest scruffy puppy title, so two birds with one stone.)
Your theory, Mr. Park.
Boy: Holy $h!T. I was going to say it was one of the servants, because they have opposable thumbs, but now I’m starting to think that’s just what the Schnauzer wanted me to think.
Me: Genius, isn’t it?