Puzzled at the repugnant odor polluting the early morning air, Jerome slows from a jog to a shuffle, then to a complete stop in front of his neighbor’s picket fence. Spotting Jim with a watering can, he breaks the silence. “He neighbor, beautiful morning, isn’t it?” “Wonderful!” replies Jim. “Say,” continues Jerome, “do you smell that? It smells like gasoline.” “Yeah,” Jim replies, smiling