Now it's time to play "What's that smeeeeeell?" Here's your hostess, Bee Liciciouuuuuuuus!

You know how sometimes you get in your car and your sense of smell is assaulted by the rotting corpse in your trunk? How the stench hits you like Joe Pesci standing on a stool with a shovel? No? Is it just me?

Thursday morning I was getting ready for work, late as per usual, gathering all the necessary junk that makes my life at work a little more bearable, mix CD, banana, whip, so I was not really focusing on any one thing until I unlocked my car and opened the door. The smell almost made me fall to my knees and whimper "sweet baby spinach!" but being the tough chick I am, I talked myself into getting in the car thinking maybe there was something in the air and I just assumed my car was the culprit.

After I drove a block, I realized that, nope! The car stunk like a 17th century slaughterhouse. I couldn't figure out why "Had I stepped in dog poop?" No, the smell was worse. "Did I accidentally run over an already flattened skunk?" No, the smell was coming from inside the car.

I had all my windows rolled down, my sunroof was open, I was driving 30 miles over the speed limit so that the wind would gush in (just kidding coppers), I was breathing through my mouth but nothing helped. After five agonizing minutes of near hyperventilation, I finally got to work. I was shuddering as I closed the windows and I leapt out of the car before the engine even stopped running.

I bumped into Cowardly Lion on my way into the office and I asked.  "Hey, can you sniff me and tell me if I smell like rotting corpse?" and she got this weird look on her face that I interpreted as "Sure! I've been dying to sniff you!" She said I smelled like rainbows and cinnamon which is good, I guess.

All day I thought about that putrid smell. It reminded me of the time we went to a museum to see The Mummies of Guanajuato which is an exhibit of dead people on display in the city of Guanajuato. They were in glass cases but one of those cases had a small opening at the corner which, if you stood extremely close, you could get a whiff of the body. Why would you want to, right? Ask my brother Sergio who stuck his nose in the opening, took a deep breath and now gags every time we bring it up. Ewwwww!

Anyway, unlucky for me, Thursday was a warm day so whatever was marinating in my car was going to get worse by the time I left work. Sure enough, the smell was a little bit more menacing than it had been at 8:15 in the morning. Kinda like Al Pacino putting a gun to your head and trying to make you watch one of his new movies. Yep. That bad.

I was puzzled.

Were the evil squirrels declaring war by sticking a fallen comrade into my tailpipe (not to be confused with the Richard Gere rodent tailpipe fiasco)? They were my prime suspects because I had just sprayed my garden with fox urine so that they would stay the hell out (never mind how I got the fox urine). I've known they were up to something for weeks now because I've been under constant surveillance.

at the botanic gardens

  on my way to Baskin Robins the gym.

Anyway, I drove home and called Andy so he could help me try to solve this foul mystery.

Bee: Come out here and help me solve this foul mystery.

Andy: It can't be that bad.

Bee: I almost threw up on my way home.

Andy: "Bee the Exaggerator".

Bee: I dare you to get in the car with the windows rolled up and sit in there for 30 seconds.

Andy: Pffft! I'll do a full minute! [opens door] [spins violently around and around] Uh. Wow. Never mind.

Bee: Coming from a guy with no sense of smell, it must be really bad.

Rick (from his upstairs window): What are you two weirdoes doing?

Bee: Trying to solve a foul mystery.

Andy: How many times are you gonna say that?

Bee: It builds suspense?

Andy: No, it just makes you sound retarded.

Rick: It can't be that bad.

Bee: Come down here and say that with your nose in the car.

Andy: Pop the hood. Maybe a squirrel was trying to hide his nuts in there.

Bee: I hope the motor tore his nuts right off. [Pops hood and trunk (or bonnet and boot in British speak)]

While Andy was checking the hood, I went around to the trunk and lifted it up. . .

My mom used my car on Monday to run some errands. She stopped at Shop n Save and picked up some things. Butter, tortillas, oil, soda, chicken breasts.

These are the things she carried into the house on Monday after her trip to the store:

Butter

tortillas

oil

soda

What I discovered on Thursday, after a few days of 80 degree weather, was that she had forgotten the chicken breasts in my trunk.

All 3 of us groaned then Rick laughed and Andy yelled "Get them the fuck out of here!" and so I had to walk what seemed like a mile to the garbage can in the garage with a package of chicken boobs in my hand and my gag reflex on high alert. I bumped into Boomhauer and mentioned the chicken breasts because I didn't want him to think it was my lack of hygiene that was stinking up the place. "My mom left a package of chicken breast in the trunk of my car on Monday"

Boomhauer: Hahahaha! I bet those are ready to eat!

Sick bastard.

Maria (THE VEGETERIAN) walked by me having just gotten home from work, she looked at me strangely as she made her way down the driveway. I told her about the boobs and she said "oh! I was wondering what that smell was!"

Bee: You sure you don't want to try some yummy meat?

Maria: [Rolls her eyes, pinches her nose] Positive.

Bee: It's not like broccoli smells like roses, you know.

Maria: [runs away]

I have that effect on people.

I walked back to my car and had to explain to Andy why I had put the fetid breasts in the garbage can. According to him, I was now contaminating his garbage can. Well you know what? I'd rather the maggots grow in a contained environment as opposed to the trunk of my car where they can come out and say 'hi!' on a whim.

And so, our foul mystery was solved. Sadly, my car still smells like animal carcass.