> O wondrous Oracle, who was able to change the Holy Guidelines with the
> full support of the Backbone Cabal *and* the unanimous approval of
> news.groups, I beg you to answer the question of this most humble
> supplicant. I am as pond scum to your divine intestinal parasites.
> Please, please, find it in your heart to grant me an attoscopic spec of
> your infinite wisdom.
> I'd like to say right up front that this is a hypothetical question.
> No basis in fact whatsoever. Any similarity to persons, events, or
> shirts living or dead is purely the result of distortions caused by a
> rift in the space-time continuum.
> Let's say (hypothetically, of course) there was a girl named, oh, say,
> let me pick a name completely at random here, Carrie, who had a
> hypothetical crush on the supplicant. Furthermore, the supplicant has,
> over the years, formed a deep-seated hatred for Carrie. Telling her
> that doesn't work. You'd think it would, wouldn't you? You'd be
> wrong. (Not you personally, of course, O hyperglorious Oracle, you're
> *never* wrong.) She just followed the supplicant around all day like a
> particularly obnoxious puppy in heat, babbling things like "I know you
> love me." Hypothetically.
> Let's say, furthermore, that the supplicant had a hypothetical shirt.
> Plaid. With fuchsia(*), white, blue, a brownish color, and maybe a
> dark hypothetical green.
> (* This should in no way reflect on the manhood of the supplicant.)
> Now, in this hypothetical scenario, Carrie and the supplicant are still
> in high school. The supplicant is carrying the aforementioned shirt
> (and wearing another one--the reason why isn't really relevant to the
> question). He sets it down on a nearby desk for a moment and turns
> around. When he looks back, the shirt is *gone* (GONE!) and Carrie is
> standing there with this stupid grin on her face.
> So the supplicant is fairly annoyed. Carrie had obviously stolen his
> nice plaid shirt.
> The next day, still speaking hypothetically, of course, Carrie came in
> *wearing the supplicant's shirt*! ARRRRRRGGGGGHHH!!! Can you
> *believe* it? Very calmly, I asked her to give it back. She said "but
> <insert supplicant's name here>, I only have a bra on under it!" and
> smiled stupidly, as above. I point out that she certainly has
> something in her gym locker that she could change into, but it didn't
> help. She skips around all day saying remarkably witty things like
> "I'm wearing <supplicant's name>'s shirt!"
> The next hypothetical day, she didn't return it. Or the next day. Or
> the day after that. The supplicant is getting pretty hypothetically
> pissed. When Carrie finally returned the shirt, *it hadn't even been
> *washed**! A situation like that clearly requires nested asterisks.
> Geez, it's years later, and I'm *still* massively annoyed. So, O kind,
> magnanimous Oracle, what should I do to her? Would it be bloody?
> Hypothetically speaking, of course.