that locker room smell

I was stepping out of the shower when I first took a whiff of the ungodly stink that almost made me upchuck my breakfast. Every locker room in the world has a moldy mushroom B.O. stink, but this rot was nothing like that. I heard by the lockers someone was hurling into a trashcan. As i walked closer, the pungent smell got worse. A group of guys were changing into their street clothes like the they were auditioning to be The Flash. But one man, one I dont think ive ever seen before, was taking his time. He casually changed from jeans to sweatpants like nothing was wrong in the world. I changed and left.

The next day at the gym was good. No bad smell in the locker room. I was changing after my workout when the stranger entered the room. He was quite older, slightly pudgy but seemed like a nice gentleman. But once his pants fell to the ground, the rotten cheese in a moldy fruit trashcan funk filled the room. I began to cough and the others around me began to make small remarks. I looked at the stranger and he looked to be smiling.

I walked to the front counter and asked for a manager. I told him about the man in the locker room, but he said nothing could be done. I didn't come back for a week.

When I did, it was of desperation. It was the only good gym in the city that didnt charge your soul every month. I walked in the locker room and a huddle of guys were by the showers. They heard me and all heads turned to see who it was. One guy waved me over.

The plan was to strip the guy and throw him in a shower. They drew straws to see who would scrub him. Lucky it wasn't me. Then we waited.

The wait wasn’t long when he walked in and saw the group. The director of the wash lynch grabbed him but there was no struggle. But he did plea for us to stop.

One guy grabbed the stranger’s shirt and another gripped his pants. They came off and the familiar smell filled the room. They pushed him to the shower. The unfortunate scrubber stood there waiting. It was also his job to take off the stinky one’s underwear.

With one pull, the underwear was down. Everyone had take a step back in disgusting fright. Not only was the man’s penis covered in a milky white loin cloth of ricotta cheese gunk, but it followed under his taint and in his ass crack. He stared down in shame. Like a child caught with candy before dinner. After only a moment, he lifted his head with a smirk.

He said we can't touch him, unless we want it too. Some of us vomited on the floor making no effort for a trashcan. The wash lynch director grabbed the man by his hair and threw him in the shower. I tried to tell him to stop but the words never left my mouth.

The shower heads detached from the walls. The director stood over the man and sprayed him with almost boiling hot water. The cheese man cried while being hosed down.

When it was over. The cheese man walked out crying. I never saw the director again until I heard he killed himself. I heard you could smell his apartment from a block away.