Part 2: The Stench

What seemed to be a perfectly normal routine to me, seemed to be a real hassle to try and explain to an enforcer of the law such as this man. He stood six-foot tall and to me appeared to resemble the Devil. On his back was a black t-shirt and on his legs, a pair of old, worn-out, blue jeans. As I heard footsteps drawing closer to the front of the car, I wondered to myself, had I been set up? Did the tall man approaching my vehicle already know what was in the black duffle bag? I took one incredibly deep breath and postured myself in an upright position. As I began to roll down the window, the smell of the air changed with his presence. Instead of the once existing piney smell coming from my trunk, the air filled my nostrils with a fowl stench of black coffee and donuts. The bacon had arrived, and I felt as if I was on my deathbed.