When I was a "sweeper boy" I cleaned many a restroom. In those days, there came to be a legendary figure at the Elementary School known only as "The Pooping Bandit". Thus, I know a thing or two about cleaning up someone else's crap - and I mean this in a fully literal way - cleaning up someone else's crap that is. If you still don't get it, I was responsible for scrubbing someone's left behind poop stains off the walls using what we referred to as a "fairy brush". I hope that makes things clear for you. Anyway, we seem to have hands full with a "Pooping Bandit, version 2.0" - our hands full of poop. I have a very bad feeling that he is probably a relative of the original. Either a relative or a copycat.
In order to get an admission of guilt, the First grade teachers decided to hold the boys of the First Grade hostage until the perpetrator came forward. We sent the girls into another classroom to watch a movie and I told the boys that we would be sitting in silence until the boy with crap on his hands (again, literally) came forward. We sat in silence.
After five minutes the boys started blaming each other and pointing fingers. A conversation ensued:
Cheeseboy: Alright, no more talking! If you say a single word, I will assume that YOU are the poop-atrator.
Boy in first row: I think I saw a girl go into the boys bathroom at lunch.
Cheeseboy: No, no it is not a girl! It's someone in this room.
Boy in second row: Will the person that did it be in trouble?
Cheeseboy: [Looking at him with a new eye of scrutiny] Why? Do you know something?
Boy again: No, I was just wondering.
Cheeseboy: Well, if the person tells me now, they will only be in a little bit of trouble. If they wait, they will be in A LOT of trouble.
Boy in last row: Why? What will happen to them?
Cheeseboy: Well, if he doesn't let me know who it is, we may have to call the cops.
Boy in last row: Really?
Cheeseboy: Yes. This is what is commonly called, "vandalism". The police may be very interested, especially since this is the 4th time it has happened.
[10 minutes of more silence.]
Boy: What will the police do? How will they know who did it?
Cheeseboy: Oh, they'll probably be down tomorrow, you know - take a few samples, gather some evidence. They'll be able to figure it out.
[5 more minutes of silence. The girls return and I tell them to gather up their things and line up. Soon the bell rings. The boys are now begging each other to fess up and several are crying.]
Boy: Mr. Cheeseboy, the person who did it is not going to say so.
Cheeseboy: Yes, Billy I think you're right.
Boy: If I am late, my brother is going to KILL me! He hates to wait for me.
Cheeseboy: Don't worry, your brother will be fine.
[2 minutes pass... still no confessor.]
Cheeseboy: Alright, gather up your things and go. We will talk more about this tomorrow.
... I checked with the Principal and the Dare Officer will be visiting our school tomorrow. The Principal is going to have him come down and pretend to look around and ask us a few questions. Should be mildly entertaining.
BUT AS LONG AS I SHALL LIVE, I VOW TO NEVER LET THE POOPING BANDIT 2.0 GET THE BEST OF ME LIKE HIS FATHER DID! HE SHALL BE FOUND, AND WHEN HE IS, I WILL SUE HIM AND HIS FATHER FOR THE YEARS OF HARDSHIP I HAVE ENDURED.
Has this been a problem for anyone else at their place of work?