Bryan Orville - A Sonnet

An evening of laughs and lists and lounging
Topped with a lovely piece of pecan pie.
Then Bryan Orville came a-scrounging.
I believe I was about to die.
‘Tween struggled breaths and painful sides,
My olfactory epithelium
Tears had welled up in my eyes.
I could barely stand to see’m.
The air about Bryan did not diffuse,
In fact it grew stronger and meaner.
I would brand this as physical abuse,
But murder would be much cleaner.
Bryan Orville, you smell. Please go take a bath;
Lest you wish to feel my wrath.