I used to run into P. impudicus everywhere when I was a landscaper as a kid. That binomial said it all. The smell of the spores, the flies, and the egg stage: stinkhorn busts through different dimensions of nasty with each stage of their life cycle. No matter what I’d do to beautify the property, there’d be an army of P.-shaped rockets popping out of my work (a most hilarious and frustrating problem). I liked your article a lot.