Bart's in a fog-- literally

My good ol' co-worker Bart is, among other things, an avid sportsman. He took 2 days off of work just to go hunting. Well, he got his buck, butchered it himself that very day, and has lived solely on venison since. There's only one problem. It obviously doesn't agree with him, if you know what I mean. Things were already bad before deer season; my department refers to the bathroom as "Bart's office." You get the drift. (oh, BAD pun!!)
This morning was particularly atrocious. It was easy to tell where Bart was, and where he had been. Purple haze hung everywhere! Finally, Sam had the guts to say, "Uh, Bart, you think you might want to check your pants?"
Bart was clueless. "Why? What do you mean?"
Sam shook his head, "You reek, man."
Bart either had no sense of smell or didn't care about hygiene. "What?"
Sam came right to the point, and said, in more colorful terms, "I think you may have soiled yourself."
Bart was either defiant or completely daft, I can't be sure which one. "What are you talking about? I don't smell anything."

Meanwhile, the rest of us were asphyxiating.

I spent a good portion of the day reliving childhood memories of silly quotes like, "He who denied it supplied it," etc... Yes, I know. Men are so anal!