The Stinkiest Stank in Pewtown

When I got home from work yesterday, I immediately detected a putrid odor. Abby came from her normal resting place on the bathroom’s cool tile floor to greet me. She is a terribly cute girl but often gets up to a good deal of mischief, so I suspected she might have somehow been responsible for the stink. I raised an eyebrow but she merely yawned and awaited my next move.

The stink seemed to be coming from the kitchen, so I sniffed my way there to try and find the source. I had taken out the trash before I left for work so I knew it wasn’t a refuse-related problem. I thought perhaps my disposal might have gotten a bit gamy so I grabbed half a lemon from the fridge and ran it through the grinder to freshen things up. Still the stink lingered but I eventually gave up in favor of watching The Hills.

Later in the evening I padded into the kitchen in search of sustenance and was immediately confronted with the intensity of the horrific, butt-clinching odor. So desperate was I to find the culprit, I catered to my baser instincts, hunkering down low and sniffing about in the manner of an agitated Bloodhound. It wasn’t long before my nose met with an innocent-looking Dutch Oven on the stove top. I lifted its lid, tentatively sniffed, and nearly passed out from toxicity of the concentrated stank. Oh yes – I had found the source! In a moment I remembered the events that had led to this terrible calamity. On Saturday Pappy made some soup using leftover chicken and veggies. When we left for the airport he said, “Don’t forget to put this soup in the fridge when you get home. It’s still too hot right now.” I obediently nodded but quickly forgot until days later when I lifted the dome from its rancid, malodorous home. Naturally I hadn’t done any significant cooking since the weekend, so I completely overlooked the pot, giving its contents plenty of time to fester and rot.

Were it not for my haz-mat gear and robust sinew, I might have needed back up but instead managed to unceremoniously dump the foul (ha!) viscous sludge down the disposal in a series of very discomforting plops. Although I may never sleep again, I’d like to keep you from night terrors so I won’t discuss the moldy skin that had formed on top of the soup or how it was so vile, I suspect even Abby, who licks her own arse, after all, would turn tail and run for the hills rather than eat or even come within 100 yards of the evil slop.

Bon Appétit!


3 Responses to “The Stinkiest Stank in Pewtown”

  1. sandy Says:

    pain felt. i tried that ridiculous cabbage soup diet earlier this year and didn’t know it needed refrigeration. worse news, i thought it was SUPPOSED to smell like that. blech. congrats on it NOT being abby.

  2. Christine Says:

    Congrats to you for finding the mystery smell. 🙂

  3. Kriss Says:

    Oh Gawd. My gag reflex kicked in just thinking about it. 😦

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