pong

1992, Bryce Courtenay, Tandia, Volume 1, 2011, Read How You Want, page 109, She sniffed, squiffing up her nose. ‘What a pong! Do they all smell like this?’

I can remember calling round once and when she answered the door I was greeted by an unmistakable, noxious pong. “I can smell gas!” I said. “Oh, have I left the ring on?” she asked…