Why, one may ask, does Ezekiel Smith have a dead skunk under his porch? Well, one may ask, but if one is wise one will refrain from seeking too many details. Law of the exile, don't you know.
Suffice it to say that the poor creature was not the intended target of the experimental neurotoxin. But once it had wandered into the cloud, the man of science in me sat up and took notice.
The amalgamation of chemicals seems to have preserved the flesh, in a true paradox. The smell is actually becoming... sweeter? Yes, like honey and roses, although the scent of decay has crept in. Research continues between the poker games. Little two-toned martyr, your death has not been in vain.