Prelude to the rest of the story:

Back a long time ago our dad had a hair brush that he'd had going back a long, long time and then one day P.B. decided that, as a prank, he'd shave the bristles off the hair brush so that it was then just a, ahhhhhh, mere block of wood with a little stuble...

So my dad got real steamed and, ya' see, P.B. got to him 1st and blamed me fir havin' done this dastardly deed to my P.F.s (poor father) hair brush and, well, seein' as I didn't do it I denied have doen the deed but P.B. insisted I did and, hey, seein' as I knew I didn't do it that only left P.B. on the list of suspicious characters and holiday family suppers after that were never the same as P.F. would try to get one of us to 'fess up and then the finger pointin' would be begin...

Well, this story don't make alot of sense right now but as I try to untangle Part B of the story, it will...

B~