I mean to say that I am in fact the
Aromatic Punk. You've heard a bit about me, have you? Quite a bit? That's good,
that's good.
Well what I have to say is this:
we've been through a hell of stenches and it seems that I'm the only one who's
noticed. The sewage water: can't you smell it? It's changed; been mucked up, tainted
even further.
For one thing it tastes like
beer-stained fuchsias. How anyone can bear that I just cannot understand. No, I
haven't actually drank the waste; I'm talking olfactory palate stuff here. It's...well,
the smell's not really rotten but it's definitely pungent. Kind of sweaty and yeasty,
only it's ever so subtle to the average nose. You see, most people get distracted by the obvious
stink of faeces and just leave it at that.
So I got up and did the right
thing. I ran home and sifted through my perfume collection. Yes, yeah, I get
it. I realise that that seems rather girly to blokes like you but it's
absolutely necessary for blokes like me. Anyway I used a musk actually. I managed to find something suitably sweet in
that particular subsection which is a rarity, I can tell you.
So I took a few bottles, slid
them into my jacket pockets and ran to the nearest manhole cover. I lifted it off
then poured three bottles worth of musk down into the hole. Then, of
course, your boys on the beat came along and asked me what the hell I was
doing. They thought I was poisoning the fucking water supply! Christ sake. I
set them straight but they still weren't having any so I got collared.
Yes, this isn't the first time
I've done something like this and it turned out ridiculous back then too. The way I
figure it, surely I'm not the only one with sensitive nostrils around here, this area. I'm sorry, I just will not stand idly by. Nobody
else is doing it so I'll get it done. Too bloody right.
You just do what you will, your
worst. But don't stick me in that opposite cell, eh? Do me that one little favour. Smells
like someone pissed themselves to death in there. They did? Phwoar.
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