Leon Orcot made a solemn vow that bright sunny morning. It was a vow he would cherish forever. As he hurried frantically towards the pet shop while trying not to appear frantic, he vowed that he would never again eat at a place which had a name he could not pronounce. He flung open the door and stormed inside. The digested food wanted to come out one way or the other and could not seem to make up its mind. D seemed to be absent from the store, and Leon felt grateful. As he marched resolutely towards the bathroom, he did not want to stop and speak pathetic niceties. He only vaguely noticed that the smell of incense was disappearing . . . Relief filled him as he entered the bathroom and slammed the door shut.
After he thankfully emptied himself of the natural toxic by-product (or maybe it was unnatural considering that Count D complimented the food there a few days ago), he flushed the toilet multiple times and contemplated arresting D for attempting to kill a police officer. Then, he realized something strange. D was not at the front of the store as usual, but D was always at the front of the store. Leon noticed his friend's absence before; however, he only now became aware of the oddity of the situation.
He saw the bathroom sink and almost sprang back from shock. Blood covered the sink from the drain to the end of the sink's counter. Thinking D had sacrificed a rat or bird, Leon examined the sink closer. The liquid was certainly blood, but an odd foam was mingled in, changing its consistency. Near the drain of the sink was the foam in its original form – a color that some people consider white and others pale blue.
Bewildered, he exited the bathroom to search for Count D. The faint smell of the shop's animals drifted through the hallway. Why was his friend neglecting the incense? This was most disturbing. "D?" he called out worriedly. No answer. "Hey, D? Are you here?" Silence pervaded the store. The detective focused all of his energy to listen for any signs of the Count.
Suddenly, he heard faint crying. Even more worried, Leon followed the sound to the dining room. Count D sat at the table and wept uncontrollably with his long kimono sleeve covering his face. Alarmed, Leon simply watched for a moment. Then, he spoke up, "Hey, D, just what the hell happened here?"
The Count paused in his tears and moved his head a little away from the kimono sleeve. All Leon could see of his face were his two eyes, busy thinking.
"Don't think up any lies, D!" Leon snapped, wanting an answer. "I saw the blood in your bathroom sink!"
Then, the Count scowled with those eyes and glared, offended, at Leon. He lifted his head higher so that the detective could see all of his face. D's lips were parted slightly, revealing blood inside his mouth. It also covered his chin and the front of his kimono.
As typical in dire circumstances, an entire long sequence of thoughts ran rapidly through the detective's mind. He concluded that D killed someone and drank blood. However, D appeared genuinely distraught over that, probably making the crime a case of temporary insanity. If he did arrest D for whatever happened, his friend would merely get a slap on the wrist and be sent free. "Um . . . D," Leon asked nicely, "what happened?"
His friend snapped angrily, "I almost bled to death while brushing my teeth!"
Leon immediately burst into laughter as all the pieces suddenly fit together. He did not realize that his friend's teeth were so rotten before. "Well, you should have taken better care of them earlier, D! Now you got bloody toothpaste foam everywhere." Leon continued to chuckle.