Day 18


Cleanup crew.

The stinkymate was very forgiving about the whole mailbox thing. Almost too forgiving. I am slightly worried about future retaliation. I put my doubts aside long enough for us to make up, and we started to discuss the future of the project.

After hours of deliberation, it was decided to end the 2nd project now. It is far, far too traumatic to have meat taken away from you before you can properly observe it - I don't want to see the chicken suffer the same fate. Besides, even if the chicken wasn't going to be eventually stolen by a raccoon or uberdeer, how long could I realistically go on with my objective observations? In time, I would grow too attached to it, and the scientific reporting would suffer. Besides, the most interesting and stinky time is when it's juicy and new. The dried up shell is entertaining only for so long.

And so, I suited up in preparation for meat cleanup duty.


hi-res

We waited until dark before going into the playground area, so I could run around with an air filter and latex gloves without having to worry about silly little things, like getting arrested.


hi-res

Even though I was wearing an air filter, I instinctively held my breath during this entire process. I guess it's just a force of habit. With the biohazard bag ready, I reached down and touched the chicken.

It felt like a rock through the gloves - harmless enough. This was my chance to touch rotting meat, and I wasn't going to waste it. I poked my fingers inside some of the cavities, expecting to feel soft mush. To my surprise, everything was hardening, even what was left of the green goop. It wasn't completely solid, but it wasn't fleshy liquid, either. Suddenly, the chicken didn't seem so disgusting, after all.

At this point, I took a break to breathe. This, I later made note of, was where the cleanup really started to go badly. As soon as I decided to breathe in air, I realized that the stench of the chicken was all around me, everywhere, surrounding. I had to get away from it to breathe, even if only for a second.

I walked about 15 feet away, and attempted to breathe again. The smell was still there, and that's when I realized - the smell had permeated through my mask, and was inside it. Please understand - I couldn't remove my mask easily. My gloves were covered with chicken slime, a substance I would prefer not to smear across my face. I didn't want to take my gloves off, for fear of turning them inside out, and not being able to put them back on.

I really needed oxygen around this time.

And so, I closed my eyes and sucked in chicken air. Have you ever smelled a scent so bad that you thought you could taste it? This was... potent. I decided to quit wasting time, and get the chicken into the bag.

I went back and picked it up in one swift movement. The hard skin was only on the upper half - the parts that were continually exposed to the sun. The lower half was still moist, and it seemed to have been sticking to the ground. It made a noise like velcro as I picked it up.


hi-res

I realized then that I didn't want to be holding this object.

The stinkymate yelled something about beetles on the bottom of it, but I didn't care to look. The chicken went into the bag, followed quickly by my gloves and mask. I tied it shut very, very tightly.

We put the bag into the garbage at the park, and went home. That's the end of the second stinkymeat project. As I write this, I wonder where the chicken will eventually end up.

I also wonder what the garbage man will think when he sees a biohazard bag in a playground trash can.

Somehow, that idea makes me happy.


To the stinkyreaders:
Thanks for keeping up with the project, and the continued email, support, and feedback. You're the reason there was a second experiment, and the reason that subjecting myself to rotting meat is even remotely worthwhile.

-Mahlon