It's Fish, methinks, as Hamlet's dead father would say:
"My ghostly torment is great, and the desire for sweet vengeance
lingers yet in my soul ... but, Christ, not half so much as the fetid
stench of burning fish-shit, which seemeth to engorge the air that
moistly sweats from the microwaving witch-box. Is death no respite from
this floating miasma of fearful fish-filth? Truly! Come thou on!"
This article available online at:
http://www.theatlantic.com/daily-dish/archive/2009/04/that-foul-smell-in-the-microwave/202452/
