Last we checked in with the MBTA Transit Police Department, they were telling a humble, concerned citizen there had been no shady dealings in the Mr. Spaghetti dog-naming debacle. Now, the department’s response to Gawker’s public-records request directly contradicts the reassurance they’d previously given. What are they trying to hide?

Today is Marathon Monday, and by all reports, it is a splendorous day in Boston: the sun shining down, the breeze lilting lightly, the male nipples bleeding, and the Mark Wahlberg dressed as a hardscrabble cop with a heart of gold. But let us not forget a great shame that hangs over the city like the malodorous stench of seafood served at the Top of the Hub. That’s right: I’m talking about Mr. Spaghetti.

Mr. Spaghetti was a very bad dog, often pooping inside and on his owner’s son’s toys. He would also bark at the Dominos delivery boy who was only trying to do his F***ing job. Mr. Spaghetti is not missing. Mr. Spaghetti is dead.