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This is a picture of Ben and I running out of the house to escape the smell. The benevolent spirit of Cindy Brady watches over us from the heavens, keeping us safe.

And he was right. For the unwavering love and steadfast friendship that the littlest Brady had given us throughout these long, cold years... it was time to give something back. She had provided a home for us in her heart, and now we owed her this much. We would eat the Rebanadas, and we would do it for Cindy.

I took a deep breath and turned to face my fate like the man I always knew I could be, if only a little more hair would grow on my chest and I wasn't 30 lbs. underweight. But with purpose in our hearts and a gleam in our eyes, we strode headlong back into the kitchen, into the very heart of enemy. Undaunted by the pervading funk, Ben grabbed a knife and sliced the Rebanadas right down the middle. He deftly lofted one half of the bear snack, and I picked up the other. The stench was overpowering, but we were men with a mission; boys with a cause; crusaders with a Brady. We looked directly at each other.

"Are you ready?" asked Ben?

"I'm re-"

Suddenly, the realization of what was happening hit me like sledgehammer... to the heart! Not only were we covered in invisible odoriferous particles, but we were breathing them! INTO OUR MOUTHS AND NOSES!!! Don't you see?!? The smell was traveling into our lungs, where it was being processed by our bodies! I suddenly imagined the poo particles traveling down the length of my esophagus, smearing their brown putrescence across the walls of my larynx, staining my teeth and gums along the way. And then they entered my lungs, where the fart bits greasily wormed their way through the membrane walls and into my blood stream!* THE PIG FARTS WERE IN MY BODY! The dung odor could be anywhere and everywhere by now! Jesus Christ, they're inside of me!!! They're in my nose! They're in my brain! GET THEM OUT! PLEASE GET THEM OUT!

I asked Ben to draw a picture for the story, too. I have no idea what this is, though, and I'm kinda scared to ask him.

SWEET GOD IN HEAVEN, I'M INFECTED WITH STENCH!

Then I remembered that the exact same thing happened every time my roommate's cat and I were in the bathroom together at the same time. For some reason, that made it all okay.

And you know what? Other than the smell, Rebanadas didn't taste too bad. For all the erotic bears and pungent odors and "artificial cream fillings", it was really just stale bread stuffed with marshmallows. Not good, not bad, but certainly edible.

Go figure.