My husband is clever. Damned clever. Clever to the point where I loathe him.
One of our cats has stopped using the litter box. Perhaps because she is old, perhaps because she's a bitch, I don't know. We have pee pads in front of the litter box where she goes pee, but she poops on the hardwood floor for some unknown reason. We call the area where the cat boxes are, "Poo Corner".
As I walk to the kitchen, I spy a poo on the floor and I groan, "Augh, there's a turd in poo corner!"
My husband: "Sounds like a real... *pause* poodunnit."