Yes, cheese. This specimen was acquired by my suitemate back in IUB about a week ago. Poor victims of insufficient aristocratic knowledge of cheese that we are, we just assumed it looked and felt enough like mozzarella to be one with that fine, stretchy marriage of bacteria and bovines. Tsk, tsk.
People take for granted how profoundly and fundamentally the human sense of smell can dictate our existence. The olfactory bulb in the brain is disturbingly close to the region where emotions are comfortably seated amidst a sea of glial cells. And emotional distress can lead to various uncomfortable situations ranging from temporary confusion (usually ending in trying to swallow with your ear canal or something like that) to all out war (look at Troy, or the intergalactic struggle of the 42nd Prima Valeoris cluster just off the Pleiades). Yes indeed sportsfans it stunk something awful. The tear wrenching power of this thing’s ‘aroma’ was beyond every threshold known to Nikita or myself. As the great Valeorian poet Yqillern the Tribblooned said in his epic Squoonlint Twilighters:
“Methinks it stinketh ~ we must kill the Primarch before we are but squelch”
We decided it best to corroborate our opinions. To our vast surprise a few volunteers we convinced to encounter the cheese, henceforth referred to as the squelch, didn’t seem to mind it all that much. It was clearly the terrifying consciousness of the evil entity we unleashed by opening the squelch packaging that was working on the feeble minds of these squelch-sniffers. Before any more fell to its whims we decided to save the world and bury it. Yes bury it. Alive.
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