Mike, what kind of horrid, mephitic shoes are you galumphing around in?
My sneakers are made of slices of delicious ham!
They stink to high heaven! Doesn't the smell of rotting meat bother you?
No, I can't think about the smell...
When the pain from the maggots burrowing into my feet is so overpowering.
Action: We see Mike's feet close up. Maggots are writhing all over slices of stinking, rotting slices of meat piled around Mike's throbbing foot.