Breath

I ran into Buford coming back from lunch. We stopped at the store with a lady who works in one of the other buildings. Buford smelled like he just ate road kill.

"What the hell is that smell?" I asked as the girl and I backed ourselves into the far corner of the room.
"Your breath reeks. What did you eat?"

"I ate at that Korean joint," said Buford unperturbed.
"Come on, Tramp, my breath is so fresh they should name a mint after it."

"Yeah?" I said. "How about excre-mint?"