His face soured, because he was severely rankled. He discovered an “obvious” pubic hair on his piano. Dick Petersen Skrotumsky was a world-renowned classical pianist. It was no coincidence that he had a figurative Dick face, in that he had a long dangling nose and his puffed jowls looked like balls. To top it off, he demonstrated over and over again, he was a dick.
He sat on the piano stool absolutely paralyzed by this indignant affront. He was motionless as his face turned three shades of red. Perhaps this is purely coincidental, the redness of his face ended up the same color as the slightly thicker curled hair resting between the middle C and C sharp keys. Who does this? Is this passive or aggressive or gulp, both?
This all transpired three hours earlier, before his good friend, who happened to also be a private detective, Columbo Chan examined the scene of the crime. Here was a rare man for many reasons. One, he was friends with the often unbearable cantankerous Skrotumski; two, he was half Italian and half Chinese, and 100% functional alcoholic; and three, he had seen this before. It was what “they” call, a serial prank or crime.
Chan looked over the piano with a magnifying glass and a pair of tweezers. He carefully plucked the pube and gingerly placed it in a test tube. He squinted and deliberated, “I’m-a just-a learizing-a how dumb-a that “Ebony And Ivoly” tune-a learry is.” Of course, he had a thick accent.
Dick nodded in agreement. “Single-handedly destroyed Stevie Wonder’s streak of credibility.” Dick had to know, so he cordially addressed the elephant in the room, “Any ideas on who the fuck would do this?”
Chan adjusted the belt on his wrinkled overcoat. “Yuppa, a replechaun-a tea bagged youl piano.”
Dick fainted, feet high in the air like a character in a comic strip.