John: Good morning Hank, it's June 1, 2010, almost twenty years to the day since poop from our evil and brilliant childhood miniature dachshund Red Green was found inside my beloved Nintendo Entertainment System.

So Hank, as you no doubt recall, I went to bed one night without putting the game flap down and I woke up the next morning to find Red Green's poop IN the Nintendo. It was a terrible day. Hank you remain the prime suspect in the Case of the Poopy Nintendo.

You had motive, I hogged the Nintendo, which is true, and also I loved the Nintendo more than I loved you, which is also true. You also had opportunity. Your opposing thumbs, combined with the ubiquity of Red Green's poop in our home means that it would have been no trouble at all for you to insert Red Green's poop in my Nintendo.

However, when I confronted you about this you replied- Hank: (slow motion, flash-back) I did not put poop in the Nintendo! John: You then proceeded to place the blame squarely on Red Green himself. Hank: Red Green was a very intelligent and bad dog.

John: As I understand it Hank, your argument is that an 8 pound dog with a brain the size of a baby fist backed up to my Nintendo one night and pooped in it. Now, Hank, I don't have a miniature dachshund, and even if I did God knows you can't make them poop on demand. Ergo, to test your theory that Red Green pooped in the Nintendo, I have to use science.

So Hank, here's what I did. First I used Twitter for what Twitter is designed for: I went on Twitter and I asked people if they could measure the distance between the ground and their miniature dachshunds’ anuses, which several dozen Nerdfighters did. The average distance between the ground and a miniature dachshund's anus seems to be between three and five inches. [John on the ground, next to a stack of books and Nintendo.] So Hank, I have here a Nintendo Entertainment System, flap open, a stack of books the exact height of Red Green's anus unless you want to go up to the full five inches, which you can do by adding another book.

And I have this bend-y ruler that will serve to calculate the angle of attack. Now Hank I'm sure the first thing that you will notice is that a larger dog could not poop inside a Nintendo because this open game flap would serve *taps game flap with ruler* as a kind of spit shield at the salad bar, if you will, to any potential poop attacks. However if you assume an anal height of three inches, [slides books and ruler closer to the Nintendo] look at that - the poop could go directly into the Nintendo.

If, that is, dogs kept their back straight when they pooped, which they don't. Right, we all know that a dog poops at an angle, and if you create that angle- it's about 50 degrees according to the internet- then you cannot get inside the Nintendo no matter how close or far away you put the butt of the dog. This phenomenon is true even if you put another book to create the maximum possible height.

You still can't get quite into the Nintendo. Now, Hank, I know what you're saying. You're saying “projectile poop”.

It is true that Red Green, on occasion, was known to projectile poop. That is poop without bending his back. But given the angle-of-attack problem, only in a situation of projectile pooping could Red Green have pooped inside this Nintendo. [Back to John in his chair, on the phone.] I think that it is far more likely that it was a human being.

I'm calling Dad by the way. I have a pressing question for you and I want you to answer honestly and immediately. Dad Green: Okay.

John: Did you put Red Green's poop in the Nintendo? Dad Green: (laughs) No. John: Daugh!

That always works on The Mentalist. [On phone with Mom Green] Categorical denial? Not you. John: So there you have it, Hank.

Mom denied it, Dad denied it, you denied it. This leaves one of three possibilities. Either one, Red pooped in the Nintendo.

Two, a home invader invaded our home, inserted poop into the Nintendo and then left. Or three, someone in my family is lying to me. I'm not saying that person was you Hank.

I'm just saying it wasn't Mom, it wasn't Dad, it wasn't me, and there's no one else in our family. And on that note, Hank, I'll see you on Friday.