My grandma, Judith, was outside saying good bye to some other family members. I saw the bowl of fudge sitting next to me on the table, so I took one and rolled it up to look like a turd (because my sister's dog was running around the house and isn't completely trained, so he sometimes will just go in the house), and my dad put it in the middle of the family room, hoping she'll see it and blame it on Ricky, the dog.

Although it didn't play out exactly as planned, what ensued was even funnier. Keep in mind, my grandma has an eagle eye for things that are out of place or different. She spotted it as soon as she walked back into the room.

"What the hell is this?" she exclaimed, with a twisted, confused look upon her face.

The table we were all sitting at suddenly started to have that silent squeal, with people trying to keep to themselves and not laugh, potentially foiling our plan. It was hard to do that, to say the least, but what happened next had us rolling.

Instead of blaming it on one of the dogs, she goes and picks it up, with her bare hands, and takes a sniff. This is when she said "This is fudge! Who wasted the fudge? That cost me money!" because, apparently, her dog doesn't take as big a crap as what the amount of fudge there was, not thinking that Ricky, I suppose, takes even bigger dumps than that.

This leads me to wonder what would have happened if it were an actual dog turd…