Detective Kevin

Mysteriously, a series of ten tally marks suddenly appeared on our living room floor.  Neither I nor my housemates could explain how they got there.  We tried to clean it, but even after extensive scrubbing with bleaches and chemicals, the tally marks, though fainter than before, persisted.  The confusion also persisted: Who so disrespectfully put tally marks on our floor?  Why?  While my housemates and I watched a movie one night, my focus was not on the film as much as the etchings on the floor.  Truthfully, I was frightened by them, because I thought each mark had some sort of significance.  Since it was a week after the robbery incident at my home, I worried that it might be the calling card of a robber; perhaps the number signifies the amount of times an intruder has been in our home or the number of stolen items.  Midway through the film, I confessed that if the number were to ever increase, I would freak out.
 
I shared my theory with my housemates and spooked them out a little bit, too.  Katy believed the tally marks to be the work of one of our drunken friends while keeping score during a board game.  Michael Michael immediately countered that this scenario wasn’t remotely plausible; instead, ey believed that the permanent marker vandalism was the result of a ghost.  (No really, ey sincerely thought that – it might be a ghost, but it couldn’t possibly be a friend scrawling on the floor.  Go figure.)
 
At the conclusion of the film, I continued pondering the tally marks.  I stood over it and stared at length.  Searching my mind, I tried to recall an occasion when tally marks held some significance; I had an inkling that I had seen some recently. Finally, I had an epiphany: that night at the bar! We wrote on our hands!

It started with a childhood throw-back of inducting unwitting people into the "PEN 15" club. As the juvenile game dictates - you can only be in the club if you have PEN15 written on your hand, at which point you realize that PEN15 looks a lot like ::snicker snicker:: the word penis! Ever the contrarian, Jocelyn penned vagina on eir hand.


Allison also inked something on eir hands, though the flash obscures the evidence. Specifically, Allison was tallying the number of beers ey drank on the back of eir hand to keep score in a consumption competition against Michael Michael. In fact, Allison had drank ten beers at the bar -- the same number that appeared on our floor.

Now I had my prime suspect, but how do tally marks on Allison's hands translate into vandalism on our floor? It took a moment to consider, yet I was able to place Allison at the scene of the crime. After the boisterous action at the bar, we reconvened at my house, where Allison played fetch with Darby while lounging on the floor, rolling the ball for several minutes before, without warning, passing out. Vividly, I can still picture a discernibly sad Darby repeatedly nudge the ball into Allison's body in an effort to wake eir back up in order to continue playing. Allison remained asleep on that floor for four hours, during which time I speculate ey sweat, causing the ink to bleed and transfer off eir hand and onto the floor.

I shared my deduction with my housemates and there was instant rejoicing. Amber coined my latest nickname "Detective Kevin." Michael Michael declared that ey had never been as impressed with me as ey was in that moment, which I suppose was meant to be a compliment. I certainly do feel accomplished and am prepared to offer up my services to others. If you have a crime that needs solving, I am officially for hire. There is no crime too small -- and I mean excessively small as that seems to be my specialty.