"You can't imagine the stink down here," Myx said.
"Imagine it is all I want to do," I said.
We were visiting a long line of porta-potties. I thought this angle made a good background for Myx.
"There's not a breath of wind to blow these noxious gases away, Dave. They're all just building up an ammonia sea that I can't swim out of."
"You expect me to throw you a life preserver before I take my shot--not a chance," I said. At least I was a few feet away from the offensive stench.
"If I could cough and gag, I would," Myx said.
"Myx, if you could cough and gag ... hmmm? There must be a good ending to that--but I can't think of it!" I said brightly. Maybe a little humor would take Myx's pages--I mean mind--off his present predicament (a little alliteration goes a long way!).
"Dave, please tell me you don't have to go before we go."
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