This is my answer to the writing challenge.
Well that was more interesting than the bed pan of King Edward the 8th. We had received the month before. And even more interesting than sir Walter Raleigh’s coat although I liked that one a lot. After that I finished my first set of rounds for the evening and I settled in with Delilah. Apparently some poor lass was missing her boyfriend who had gone hunting for the weekend and she had hooked up with his brother. Now she was trying to figure out if she should stay with her boyfriend or pursue the new love. Delilah and I both agreed the boyfriend is going to find out eventually and she should just pack her bags and get out of town.
Just after that heart wrenching tale of love gone astray is when I smelled it for the first time. At first I thought maybe I had cracked a little wind but the stench was far beyond even the Garlic and Muenster tainted Kielbasa blows I had experienced after eating dinner with my sister. I was pretty sure the sewer itself must have bubbled up in the lou. I grabbed a mop and headed that way but when I arrived and opened the door the floor was dry. My next thought was perhaps a group of burglars was working their way under the museum and had hit the sewer line. I had just watched the movie heist and it seemed plausible at the time. I began searching for evidence of the intruders armed with my mag flashlight and a set of keys. I probably should of telephoned the authorities but ever since the ribbing I took for reporting a burglary in progress only to find out a rat had been stuck in the garbage can of the curators office I had become hesitant to make any such calls until such time as I had investigated fully.
I switched my light off so as not to give away my position and I crept slowly through the museum I knew like the back of my own hand. These burglars must of hit the mother lode I thought as the stench became more and more powerful. I knew the most likely entry point was the Loading dock so I worked my way past the Curators office, and on down the hall. The smell was nearly unbearable as I reached the door. I tried to open it carefully so no one would hear me but of course it sung a screech like a cat being run over by a tractor. The door hadn’t even moved an inch when through the darkness a mighty hand swatted the door back in my face and threw me back across the hallway right next to the curator’s office. I was stunned by the blow and was feeling around for my flashlight when the door swung open and I knew this was no burglar. In the dark I could tell it stood 8 feet high and it was four feet across it had to turn sideways to make its way past the door.
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