So this is the story as I understand it, although, granted, I only spoke with one of the involved parties — and of course, he (“Lincoln”) isn’t likely to be overly simpathetic to “Mini”, as I’ll refer to “The Coworker Who Peed.”

“Mini” doesn’t work at the Franchise anymore — even with the events that I’m going to relate to you here, his fate was sealed when he failed to pass his MVR. To ensure that all drivers working operate their motor vehicles in a safe manner, the Franchise’s parent company (and most large delivery chains) runs regular checks of motor vehicle records. The big flaw here, of course, is that it only screens out drivers who’ve had brush-ins with the law. In this case, “Mini’s” issues with drinking and, um, driving.

Which is too bad, because getting fired for “peeing and sexual assault” would be just, I’m sure, so much funnier (especially if his parents called up to find out why he was fired).

So “Lincoln” lives with some friends down in Towson, and after a night of drunken debauchery (by which I mean “sitting around drinking cheap beer”), he staggered off to bed. Now, as “Lincoln” and “Mini” had, until this night, been friends, “Mini” was over drinking too. And “Mini” got it in his head to play a prank on “Lincoln.”

Apparently, much of this prank involved squatting naked, clinging on to “Lincoln’s” headboard while “Lincoln” was drunkenly passed out. However, unable to find proper positioning, “Mini” settled for crapping on “Lincoln’s” floor, instead. This, however, was hardly the worst of what he did.

At the Franchise, we have a washer and dryer in the back-back room for the purposes of washing store related articles of clothing: aprons, mostly, but also cleaning rags, and the occasional spare uniform shirt. Working a long shift that day, “Lincoln” had brought several trash-bags filled with dirty laundry to wash. And, between doing prep work, answering phones, and making pizzas, he got all of his clothes washed. When he left, he loaded it all into the trunk of his battered old car, and went home for his evening of drunken debauchery.

“Lincoln” told me waking up and seeing that pile of brown “Mini” on his floor was pretty awful, but walking downstairs after cleaning it up, and walking out of the building, and walking to his car to bring in his laundry, was worse.

After failing to poop on “Lincoln’s” head, “Mini” went downstairs, found “Lincoln’s” car keys, opened the trunk, and peed all over the neatly folded rows of pants, socks, and shirts. By the time “Lincoln” got up, early in the afternoon the next day, the sun had been out and heating the car.

And the moral appears to be, “Don’t Leave Your Car Keys Where Just Anyone Can Find Them.”

“Lincoln” is asking “Mini” for several thousand dollars in damages, otherwise he plans on going to the police and contacting a lawyer (he figures that Naked Mini in his bedroom constitutes a sexual assault). “Mini’s” going to have to go to his parents for the money (I mean, I suppose he could try raising money on the internet, but it didn’t work too well for me), and I would pay almost anything (no, not really) to be a fly on the wall when he tries to explain to mom and dad that he needs the money because he used his friend’s bedroom floor — and car trunk full of laundry — as a toilet.