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You step into an elevator with a stranger for a long ride up. At the beginning of the ascent all is well, but… aw hell, let’s not kid ourselves, you already know where this is going. Polite nods, face forward, but a few floors up, without so much as a pull-my-finger, your shared little box starts to smell like ten pounds of moldy ass. You can’t help but cringe and groan as the wall of stink smacks you in the face. The other passenger evinces the same physical response, as if by instinct in such situations, though undeniably being the perpetrator of the crime.