Commander Hughes Trouser-trumpet

Standing beside an unnamed housemate, i cannot but close my nostrils in disgust as he releases a gust of projectile haletosis into my face. He starts to laugh as the smeel has clearly taken hold of me. Foaming at the mouth, I drop to the ground, writhing in pain.

Later, in hospital, I wake to find goblins apologizing profusely and begging my forgiveness. Of course I do, because they are my woodland friends, and long-term servants of the 7th Earl of Shaftsbury.