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“Wrong!” said Judy.

“Is it two-hundred-year-old buffalo dung?”

“Nope.”

“Is it a stinky baby diaper?”

“N-O!”

“Is it — sniff, sniff, sniff — eggs? One-thousand-year-old rotten eggs?”

“Rumpelstiltskin!” said Judy. “How’d you guess it was stinky old eggs?”

“You mean I guessed it? For real?” Stink yanked off his blindfold. Lumpy clumps of something disgusting were in Mouse’s cat food dish.

“It is rotten eggs,” said Judy. “Beef-and-scrambled-eggs cat food. Mouse won’t eat the egg part.”

“Just call me Rumpel-STINK-skin,” said Stink, cracking himself up. Judy cracked up, too.

“So, did I pass the smell test?”

“With flying colors!” said Judy. “You truly live up to the name Stink. From this day forward, you will be known as Rumpel-Stink-Skin, Grand Prize Winner of the Way-Official Moody Stink-a-Thon.”

“What’s my prize?” asked Stink.

“No prize,” said Judy. “Just the satisfaction of knowing how smelly you are.”

“That really stinks,” said Stink.

Stink printed a page from his favorite website called “The Science of Stink” and ran to show his family.

“Hey, guys!” said Stink. “What’s taller than a man, smells worse than roadkill, and looks like the color of blood?”

“An elephant painting a picture?” asked Judy.

“No way,” said Stink.

“Is it the Abominable Smell Man?” asked Judy. “Frankenstein Valentine?”

“Can somebody else guess, please?” asked Stink.

“I’m still thinking,” said Mom.

“Let’s see,” said Dad. “How about . . . Santa Claus driving a garbage truck?”

“No,” said Stink. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s something Mom likes a real lot.”

“Are you sure?” Mom asked. “I can’t imagine liking anything that smells like roadkill.”

“Give up? It’s a corpse flower!” cried Stink. “World’s smelliest flower. It says so right here.” Stink showed his family the full-color photo of Trudy the Titan.

“Rare!” said Judy. “It says it only blooms a few times in its life, and it stinks worse than rotten eggs for about three days.”

“Worse than rotten fish and rotting pumpkins, too,” said Mom. “Phew!”

“Insects like it, though,” said Dad, reading over Stink’s shoulder.

“They can have it,” said Mom.

“And look here,” Stink said, pointing to the bottom of the page. “It says scientists come from all over the country to take samples of Trudy’s perfume and bottle some up. Mom, you were right. That’s something I could do with my nose.”

“Make stinky perfume?” asked Judy.

“I meant be a scientist,” said Stink. “You know, I’d get to sniff out rare smelly flowers and study them and stuff.”

“Bluck,” said Judy. “It says here, in the first ten hours, the corpse flower smells as bad as an outhouse. Or dead elephants. Do you really want to smell dead elephants for a living, Stink?”

“Well, stinky perfume’s a good idea, too,” said Stink.

“In my day we called it toilet water,” said Mom.

“I’m serious, Mom,” said Stink.

“I’m not kidding!” said Mom. “You can buy it at the store. It’s just like perfume, only watered down a bit. And they call it Eau de Toilette.”

“Is that French for Odor of Toilet?” asked Stink, cracking up.

“Something like that,” Mom said.

“But who’d wear stinky perfume on purpose?” asked Judy.

“Same people who pay a lot of money for toilet water,” said Stink. Dad couldn’t help snickering at that one.

“A person could wear stinky perfume to scare off vampires,” said Stink. “Or better yet, big sisters. Judy cooties!”

“Hardee-har-har,” said Judy.

“All I need now are a few dead elephants,” said Stink.

On Saturday morning, Stink could not wait to start his new career. He set up his lab in the kitchen sink. He laid out tweezers and eyedroppers on a towel. He lined up ten empty little spice jars on the counter. He collected a whole jar of real toilet water — from the toilet!

Perfect!

The doorbell rang. “Hi, Eliz — I mean, Sophie of the Elves,” Judy said. “C’mon in. Dr. Franken-stink is in his lab. Stink! Your friend with the funny name is here!”

Stink came out of the kitchen wearing Mom’s apron and green rubber scrub gloves. “Hi, Sophie,” said Stink.

“Stink’s making stinky perfume,