Even in some gorgeous Venetian palazzo, far away from dogs, and even tho Hannibal has laid out a flattering shirt and nice slacks and good shoes for the guest luncheon, Will's clothing is probably still covered in dog hair.
HANNIBAL: *gathering up some of Will's cast-off clothes to do laundry, squinting at a silk-blend button-down as he realizes there's dog hair on it* How?
HANNIBAL: *lifting an entirely new set of fine linen suit pants made specifically to Will's measurements out of a garment box, leaning in close, and frowning when he sees there's dog hair on these, too* HOW?
HANNIBAL: *kicking the door to Will's office open holding a still-sealed pair of couture underwear in some kind of ritzy plastic wrapping before him like a live bomb because by some dark magic of the universe, there's dog hair inside the packaging* HOW, WILLIAM?
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HANNIBAL: *gathering up some of Will's cast-off clothes to do laundry, squinting at a silk-blend button-down as he realizes there's dog hair on it* How?
HANNIBAL: *lifting an entirely new set of fine linen suit pants made specifically to Will's measurements out of a garment box, leaning in close, and frowning when he sees there's dog hair on these, too* HOW?
HANNIBAL: *kicking the door to Will's office open holding a still-sealed pair of couture underwear in some kind of ritzy plastic wrapping before him like a live bomb because by some dark magic of the universe, there's dog hair inside the packaging* HOW, WILLIAM?