I’ve seen it many times. Some buddy insists he needs a pound of saddle hackle in a hurry, resulting in a marathon dyeing session with the leftovers emptied into the drain in the street – the one with the fish silhouette that assures you “it leads directly to the river.”

Chartreuse being fickle and the first batch of saddles took the color fine, the bucktails had too much fat and greasy cornmeal so you emptied a couple extra ounces of dye into the mix to make sure it penetrated and the colors would match …

… and while you were intent on getting the flame just right, and oblivious to everything until your buddy tapped you on the shoulder and pointed…

At which point you started hiding everything and whistling innocent like.