The first idea that pops in your mind on how to become extra stinky is to go back to that Psychic lady's shop you were going to go to, and see if she could make some kind of potion that would do the trick...

Parking by the dumpster, up the street, because the spot in front of the shop itself is just too small, you enter the small shop. Immediatly upon opening the door do four nervous looking, little old ladies jump up and run outside from the sight of you. "They must watch way too much X-Files," you think to yourself.

"Excuse me sir," A young gypsy lady calls, "Do you have an appointment?" "Not yet, but I'm sure that you can get me one." You say waving a fifty dollar bill in your glove. "Please don't do that," she begs, "Lady Azullia will know if I were to take a bribe, ...it's dishonest." "Then split it with her," you cleverly offer, "It doesn't look like there is much of a line to break in front of anyway." She refuses the money anyway, but declares that you are next by default. You sit down on a old, weather-beaten bear skin couch, and after ten minutes of being asked by the young lady why you are wearing the suit, and why you came to the psychic, Lady Azullia made her entrance.

In all the TV programs you have seen in your life, (Which have, in your case, been quite a few more than the average person) no gypsy lady EVER looked so fake! She was obviously wearing a wig, her nose was extended with one of those plastic halloween witches' noses, and her accent sounded like she came from Wisconsin! You are tempted to do an about-face and go somewhere else when she says "Appearances aren't always what they seem, Bernie." How did she know your name? Maybe it was written on a tag, hanging off your suit or something.... just a trick, but you listen to what she has to say anyway. "I know what you are here for bernie, you need a potion to make yourself stink even worse!"

Now that got your attention. It's just a potion that makes you stink, it's not like you need a healing potion, so how much could it cost? "How much are we talking, here?" you ask the psychic. "The potion would only be about two hundred dollars. -One hundred for ingrediants, and one for myself." "How long will it last?" You ask, "Or can it wash off?" "For some it lasts a few days..." she replies, "Some, years- You, I think it will take around a year." Utterly confused, you wonder how accurate she could be, but it really doesn't matter, you realize, as long as it gets the job done.

Three hours later, her bubbling concoction is finally ready. The whole time she was making it, you were becoming more and more naucious at the extremely unappettiseing ingredients.-Which is really saying something in your case, not only can you withstand the most deadly of smells from being around yourself so long, but you can't even smell the ingredients because you still have on the face mask! She poured it from the big beaker (What, did you think she was making it in a big cauldron?) into a champagne glass, and instructed you to finish it off, while you hold your nose. After you give them fair warning, you remove the facemask. (Even holding their noses, the two gypsy ladies inch closer to the open window.) Closing your eyes, and holding your nose, you toss it back.
The next morning, you don't feel that great.


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