It was very dusty indeed, since it had been sitting up there for some time. I cautiously sniffed at it. Though it was old, it had a powerful smell of something fruity and vile, reminiscent of the results when a five-year-old spills two clashing bottles of scented lotion together.
A diabolical inspiration came to me. If ever I had any vile perfume to dispose of, I could smuggle it into the workplace, wait until alone, and pour it onto the spongelike air fresheners. No one could tell the difference.