Where Some People Leave Babies...

... apparently, others leave underpants.
No sooner had I finished the very last Plague entry, did I step to my door, only find that someone had orphaned a pair of soiled granny-style underpants just within the threshold of my door. I never thought I would ever understand that same alarming feeling an unwitting father feels as he opens a door to discover a squalling papoose anonymously deposited at his doorstep with the note "please take care of junior" pinned to it, and yet, now I think I begin to understand. Admittedly, complete anonymity was maintained, as there was no note pinned to this pair of panties, but nevertheless, I am still plagued with the question "what do I do now?" Were it something slightly less personal, much like a lost pet, where an accident can be assumed, I'd be very much inclined to send out email in order to locate its owner. But much like being unable to simply ask "did somebody accidentally lose a baby?" it is a little more difficult to address this issue. Clearly, an email sent out with the subject line "Found: Soiled Panties" would not only result in embarrassment of the owner when she/he comes to claim it, but most certainly an assortment of claim-mail from an alarming number of perverts as well. Furthermore, the delicate nature of this lost item begs the question "is this more than simply an accident?" Much like the baby dilemma - one wonders about the message that is implied with the object. Must I take care of junior because I am half responsible for his conception, or because its parents are attempting to give it a better home with me? Is someone attempting to send me some sort of message in a similar vein with this used undergarment? If so, what does it imply? I almost fear that it may carry a more foreboding message, much akin to Don Corleone's infamous horse-head message? In such a case, do I admit to having received the item in question? Should I stand firm in my beliefs, and disregard this threat by underpant? Or shall I acknowledge the presence of my unseen enemy, and let events unfold as they may?
This, I feel, is a decision that I must make soon, if nothing else, for the sake of the underpants, whose fate has been thrust into my hands. Thus, if you've lost a pair of underpants, they're placed gently over the lip of my trash can at the moment, and will be disposed of at the end of the day.

Further bulletins as events warrant.