My neighbor Ed set up a mobile kitchen in her backyard. Ed told me she was going to experiment with original foods and recipes, and Ed wanted a mobile kitchen so she wouldn’t petrify her family. With a mobile kitchen, Ed wouldn’t have all the heat and humidity in the house. I thought it was the stink of the cooking disasters Ed created in the mobile kitchen that she wanted kept out of her house. That foul stink wafted across her yard and into my house. I didn’t cherish Ed’s family, but I cared about mine. When some of that stink permeated my house, I almost gagged. I wasn’t sure what types of food Ed was using, but they had to be rancid. I went over to her mobile kitchen one afternoon, just to ask what she was doing. Ed thought the odor drew me. The odor drew me over, but not because I liked it. My dog got sick, and my child told me it made her eyes water. I told her Ed had to either quit cooking, or she had to transfer the mobile kitchen. It wasn’t something my buddy and I wanted to experience any longer. Ed told me to get out, but she told me not to take it to heart. Ed was the one who rented the mobile kitchen. If I wanted to spend money the rent on the mobile kitchen, Ed would transfer it wherever I wanted it. Since I didn’t spend money for the mobile kitchen, Ed asked me to kindly leave and let her get back to her cooking. Two afternoons later, the mobile kitchen disappeared, and I was cheerful. Ed’s husband could not sit anymore of the ‘food’ she was preparing for them.