A rainy day at the RDF

Nothing smells worse than a rainy day at the dump. No matter how rotton and noisesome the garbage, everything stinks worse when it gets wet. Like a dog.

Lardass had been working the recycle diaper bin most of the morning. When the rain started he came into the cobhouse, reeking of shit.
"Hey, there's flies in here!" he complained, sitting on a stool near the A/C with a frosty bottle of Papst Blue Ribbon. He swatted at the buzzing insects with a week old WSJ.
"They cabe in wid you," I said, breathing through my mouth.
"Well, we need to put screens up."
"Screeds?"
"To keep the flies out. What's the matter with you? Are you coming down with a summer cold?" He scowled at me.
"No. Id just stinks id here." I reached into my desk drawer and came up with a spray can of Lysol. I sprayed a blast in his direction.
"I don't smell nuthin' " He covered his beer bottle with his filthy hand to protect it from the fumes of the disinfectant.
"That's why we led you work id the RD Bin."
"Well, after the rain, I'm going over to Take and Leave to see if I can find some old screens. These flies are driving me nuts."
"OK, bud lader I need you to take a load from the BDA (body dumping area) to North Compost."
"Ho. There weren't no bodies there earlier. What you saying?"
"Yah, that hummer guy was back. He had sub more cargo. Two this time."
"Did you get...?" Lardass rubbed his index finger with his thumb.
Grinning like a cheshire cat, I dug into my shirt pocket and waved the two crisp Benjamins I had taken as a gratuity from the driver of the black hummer.
"Oboy. Lobstas tonight!"