The Mystery of the Fatass Jacket We're just finishing packing for our move this weekend, and Mr. Ferret was boxing up the hallway closet. "Is this your leather jacket?" he asks, holding out a jacket sleeve from amidst the other costs hanging in the closet. "No, I packed mine already," I replied. "Whose is it then?" I walked over to have a look. I've never seen this coat in my life, and I know it's a recent addition to the closet because it definitely wasn't there a month ago when I cleaned it out to get ready for showings. You can tell it's made from good quality leather, so I know it's expensive. It's also size XXL. Nobody in our family or circle if friends is an obeast, so I have no idea where this coat came from. My best guess is the new buyers left it here on Sunday when they came to visit the property. Well, I guess that's mine now too, since we legally have to remove all belongings except those stated in the contract. I'll keep it for a month or so, and if they don't ask for it, I'm just gonna sell it. Fuck those guys.