The other night, before going to Cream City to get some sort of skating done, Josh and I had brats for dinner. Obviously not a surprise, but for one reason or another, Josh accidentally left a uneaten brat on the counter in our kitchen. Three hours or so pass and we arrive back at the house to find that the lone brat was now gone. But where? We looked everywhere. Josh was hungry. I was laughing. Gary was reading (see fig. 1). We had a few theories, Josh claiming that my girlfriend ate it. This however was impossible as she hates bratwurst (I know, crazy right?) and she would not lie about not eating it. I think it was Elliot. He loves pizza, and to me, brats are even tastier than pizza so therefore he would love to sink his meat tearing teeth into a link. There is still an outside chance that it’s somewhere on the floor, under the stove or couch. A brat would make a great cat toy. Molly has an alibi. She was with us at the park.
As events unfold I will keep you all informed. Stay tuned.