My old factory senses are tingling

Where ever you be let your wind go free, for that's what killed me said Shakespeare.

When Old Knudsen worked in the factory (it made miniature factories in case you wondered)
to pass the time in that soul crushing environment far from the smell of the sea Old Knudsen would create his own odours.
With my lunch being corned beef and brown sauce sandwiches it was easy to perform my acts of bio terrorism.
In an area that people tend to gather at a time when it is empty, wait until you have a couple of people approaching and then you let rip a silent but deadly fart, try to keep it dry you need to move fast, swiftly walk away, doing a circle of the area and by the time the pair have reached ground zero for the fart detonation you just come in behind them, an employee and a manager are perfect, you say loudly (towards the employee), "hey George, did you just rip one off again?", George being innocent and not wanting to look bad in front of the boss will deny it, which as you know is the first sign of guilt. Follow up with something like, "it smells like something crawled up yer arse and died", wave the smell away with a noise of disgust and leave, if you do it right the manager may also comment, clumsy office politics but fun, now go out there and make Old Knudsen proud.