It was a well anticipated Sunday drive although, there was just the slightest hint of foulness in the air.  The windows were closed as it was a bit warm and the air conditioning was running.  “Do you smell that?”  asked the Inspector with a peculiar grin on his face which revealed that he indeed had smelled this odor before.  “I don’t smell a thing”, replied Remington with a devilishly sneaky look on his face while shaking his head oh so slightly.  “Smells somewhat sulfuric and is all too familiar a smell to me”.  The temperature rising a degree or two as a grin emerges from Remington’s world-renowned poker face revealing that his bowels were the birthplace of this wretched smell. The inspector, gasping for air, demands incoherently “open the windows lest I perish in the epicenter of this expulsion of emancipated diarrhea in its molecular form.  For what has been unleashed within the confined atmosphere of this vehicle is the most ungodly blend of sulfuric excretory waste secreted by the intestines of a man with no shame”.  Remington’s reply, rather abrupt, “Now see hear indeed it is true that I have farted and brought shame to the name which I carry.  However, is it really necessary for you to dramatize the situation so?  It wasn’t the first nor will it be the last!  Now, I beg your forgiveness, as another has just escaped from my intestinal dungeon.  Perhaps an air freshener would be a sufficed aid in battling the hot oppressiveness of my flatulence? And they continued, in a lightheaded state, to their destination.  In hindsight, as I ponder the outcome of this event I ask myself, “Was this inspector’s reaction overdramatic or was it calculatingly precise?”.  I leave that up to you to decide.