In high school, Intel editor Chris's older brother accidentally (we think) broke a stink bomb in the second-floor hallway by the lockers. We will never forget when we emerged from biology class and smelled the odor, which we recognized from having tested a previous one with him that we'd bought at a gag store. There is nothing like that smell (well, there are some things like it, but most of them involve dead bodies and Chinese food), and once it hit us we were consumed by a mixture of horror and hilarity. Pretty much everyone else was, too. But now, when we read about a student at East Brooklyn's P.S. 345 who sprinkled painful itching powder on the seats of several teachers and fellow students, we simply find it distasteful. "The itching was terrible ... When I sat down, I could feel it through my pants," one victim told the Daily News. "When it became uncontrollable, I had to stop what I was doing. ... It stopped me in my tracks." That sounds awful. (Especially since we read this nightmarish article.) Some teachers had to strip down and take showers to get the chemical off. Tell us, is this truly unfunny, or have we just gotten too old for this stuff?
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