The breath of hell
Grandad January 30th, 2010
I had to go out the other day.
Quite when it was, or where I was going is irrelevant. That fact was that I had to use the car.
I opened the gates and then, along with Sandy, hopped into the car and closed the car door behind me.
I suddenly felt very very ill. Judging by the look on her face, so did Sandy.
The Stink!! There was a powerful stench of something absolutely putrid and festering in that car, and it was strong enough to make the paint blister on the door frame. Unfortunately, I was in a hurry, so I didn’t have time to investigate, and just drove with all the windows open.
When I eventually go back home, I investigated. I knew I was looking for maybe a cabbage that was slowly liquefying, or maybe a ten week old rat corpse hidden under a layer of green mould. It was that kind of stink.
I found nothing.
Some days later, I had to bring herself somewhere. I had forgotten about the odour from hell, so as I opened the gates, I was a little startled to hear the scream from inside the car. I had to drag her now unconscious body back into the house and revive her with a couple of swift belts across the face. Actually, I think she was coming around anyway, but I threw in the couple of slaps, just to be on the safe side.
“What the fuck was that?” says she.
I have to apologise for her language here, She has a bit of a potty mouth sometimes.
“I don’t know” says I.
“Get the fuck out there and find out.”
I ignored her attitude, but went out anyway, as I was still a little curious.
I ripped the car apart. I took out the seats and everything.
Nothing.
Not a squat of anything that could be causing such an appalling assault on the nostrils.
I had to use the car again this morning. I gingerly got in and took a shallow sniff.
Nothing.
All I could smell was the rather pleasant aroma of an over full ashtray and overlaid with a faint hint of oil. The stench had disappeared. I breathed deeply and went about my business.
Herself quizzed me when I got back. She wanted to know if the stench from hell was any worse. I told her it was gone, but she didn’t believe me. She went out and investigated for herself.
She came back. “It must have been your socks” she said.
I was not amused.
The doctors say they expect her to make a full recovery.
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