"Hello, A-One Carpet Cleaners. How can I help you?"
"There's a terrible odor in my house that I was hoping you could get rid of. It's nauseating, like a cross between a meat-rendering plant and a raw sewage backup. The wallpaper wilted, my kids are getting taunted at school, and the cat died."
"Do you have any idea what's causing it?"
"Well, one odd thing happened. A couple members of the professional Atlanta football team dropped by for a couple minutes."
"Oh-oh, there you have it. Sorry to tell you this, ma'am, but you've got Falcons."
"Oh my GOD!"
"It's going to take way more than running a shampooer over the rug. That house has to be re-built from the foundation—it's a total loss."
"But they were only here briefly. I showed them out as soon as I realized who they were, honest."
"You have to understand—Falcons have a highly-toxic, highly-concentrated stench, like Strontium 90. Even a tiny particle can kill a man. Vladmir Putin, when he was chief of the KGB, had an Atlanta special-teams player hug a Russian defector, and the guy was dead within a week."
"There are helicopters circling and a van just pulled up. People in hazmat suits are climbing out! What is happening?"
"Try to stay calm. Those are EPA operatives. Federal law requires me to immediately report any cases of Falcons. You'll be in quarantine for a while, I'm afraid."
"How long? How long will I be segregated from normal society?"
"I don't know, ma'am. We just don't know how long the stinking will go on."