Smell My Onion Cactus
My onion cactus is an amazing thing. It sits on my bookshelf, needing almost no water at all, looking fanciful with its fancy thorns and spikes and stripes. It emits gases that smell wonderful to good people, and smell poisonous, vengeful, and absolutely unfloral to people who are evil. Stronger than the smell of an onion, the onion cactus really lets bad people’s noses have it. It’s almost enough to make you feel bad for them, but not quite.
There was that one day when I thought it had a bit of a beefy aroma to it which made me sneeze uncontrollably for almost 20 seconds. I wondered if perhaps I had recently turned evil without realizing it, and the beef smell was the beginning of the end for my nose.
That new whiff of beef from my onion cactus was enough to send me hurtling down the interstate with a fistful of antihistamine and one finger on the ejector seat button. When I reached the beach I scooped up a big bucket full of seashells and performed good deeds on each and every seashell that I had. The sunbathers looked at me suspiciously, probably realizing that I had just smelled something unexpected from an onion cactus, and therefore I was probably a bad person. But I just ignored them and went on with my work.
And sure enough, when I got back home it smelled like a chocolate brownie coated with maple syrup once again. Hooray for my onion cactus!