Speaking of that, I left a hotdog pack in my catfishing tackle box a month and a half ago. Didnt go fishing for a while. A few days ago I went to go check to see if I ever did take out the hot dogs. To my surprise, there were these little brown dots on the outside of my blue plano tackle tackle box. I open it up, the most rancid scratch that PUTRID smell I have ever smelled in my life erupted from that small tackle box. I dawn the black grime buster gloves. I prepare for bilogical war. All hands on deck. Now or never. I lift up the trays, the nucleus of the infestation, nay the heart of the evil seeping from that plastic box. I take out the Carolina Links package with one dog missing that I used. Half the hotdogs are turned to a bio-hazard mush of frothing, pulsing, maggot filled decay. I make a grave mistake, I take a whiff. Instant gag, I throw up in my mouth. I put the the dogs back in box. I decide to take the loss on the rapala filet knife and fish grip scale along with some other odds and ends and some lures for bass. Im probably out like 55 bucks. But the death smell, the indescribable putrid smell that permeated everything rendered everything insavlageable. That folks is why you nee to clean out your stuff.
