Dearest Roommate:



While I realize that with five people in the house there is not room in the fridge for the entire turkey that you killed and cooked, and I credit you for your creativity, I think that putting the rest of it into the unplugged crockpot and leaving it on the counter for a week was probably an error in judgment.



The kitchen has, indeed, begun to stink of rotting meat. As much (and as little) as I would like to take care of this issue for all of us, having already been admonished by Don't Touch My Shit Girl for rearranging coffee mugs, I think I will sit this one out and wait until either your nose alerts you or one of the other three people here decides that week-old unrefrigerated turkey is a detriment to our household.



I've already prepared a week's worth of food and don't have to dwell in the kitchen any longer than it takes to scoop some shit into a bowl, so I have the luxury of waiting in morbid amusement to see exactly how this plays out while still preserving my olfactory sensors.



Thank you, Fresh-From-Home Eagle Scout, for providing me with this unique opportunity. I am interested to see how Don't Touch My Shit Girl, Air Force Dad, and Mexican Exchange Student react. My only hope is that we don't all die of the infamous and deadly toxic airborne wild turkey mold AIDS before someone takes action.



Love,
<me>