Who knows what terror lurks in the bowels of men?
The Shadow knows, and is still locked in his room unwilling to speak to anyone. I don’t blame him.

Recipe For Subtle Disaster:

Step 1: Microwave or bake a savory meal. Lasagna, chicken pot pie, Salisbury steak, it doesn’t matter.
Step 2: Take it into the nearest public restroom. Let the aroma permeate the air.
Step 3: Take it with you and walk away.
Step 4: Be satisfied in the knowledge that you will cause many conflicting thoughts in the minds of those who now use the public restroom.

Case in point: I head to the restroom this morning at work. As I walk past the cafeteria, I can smell ham and eggs cooking on the grill for breakfast. It smells nice.

I walk further down the hall, and as I enter the bathroom I brace for the occasional foul stench any prior occupants may have left lingering. But today it is different. Today it smells like…lasagna? Beef stroganoff? Something is off about it though; something is wrong.

For starters, it has a metallic twinge, an electric “your world is a lie” kind of subtlety mingling with the savory smell. Secondly, it does not smell like ham, which would be the smell coming from the cafeteria, and the most easy explanation. Thirdly, any smells in the bathroom are most likely man-made–in the worst possible way.

So I am gagging at this obnoxious scent that at any other time, and most any other place, would seem appetizing. My mind is reeling, trying to pick out the indicator scent that would turn out this impostor, while at the same time not wanting to smell at all. I try to imagine the man with the culinary colon who, through some freak combination of ingredients and circumstances, has managed to produce this analogue, this wolf in sheep’s clothing.

I can’t allow myself to believe that it was something benign, like a casserole someone inexplicably brought into the bathroom, because what if I were wrong?