Once, I asked him: Do you … shower? He shrugged and said: The last time I showered was before I arrived here. Almost a year ago. A year without a shower! The idea of it made my skin crawl. And he did have a ripeness to him, but like the cheese he created, it wasn’t unpleasant. Agrippa had achieved equilibrium. He had won the inhabitants of his underarms to his cause.
