I can smell. I can smell everything. And when I say everything, believe me, I mean every single damned thing. Right on the second sentence, you probably thought that I was a blessed man – or a blessed woman, for that matter; for you had no reason to believe I was a man – and by the third one you probably thought I had lost my mind. But, believe me, it is more of a curse than a blessing.
Sure, I can right now smell where the old man living upstairs keeps his sorry amount of money. But oh, don’t forget, this same old man has a lot of things that, believe me, you don’t ever want to smell. Yeah, you got me exactly right. But there is no need to email me your ideas, my mind has already its own ideas on the matter, and believe me, my mind’s ideas are more accurate.
But let me share this little story with you. There was once this man – who thought he was very funny, by the way – that wanted me to smell for him the place where her mother-in-law had her wealth of jewels hidden before her death, in exchange of – believe me – a VERY tempting amount of the lost treasure.
And, believe me, I had to tell him all the embarrassing stuff I’d learned by smelling him, and threaten him to publish those particular details over the Internet, before having him off my neck.
So now, do you still want to change places with me, eh?