Oh man, you just reminded me of this one place down in Florida... Taco City. That stuff was so good... One time my little brother and one of his friends spent the night with me and my dad brought us all home taco city meals. That night my little brother was farting so bad that when he farted I'd press my face into the carpet to avoid the smell. It was so bad we decided to capture one in a jar and a label it.
I've still got it, it's in this room, actually, somewhere. The funny thing is we used a tomato/pizza/spaghetti sauce jar, so the label is taped over and replaced with "caution: deadly fart" and the skull and crossbones (well, as well as we bothered to do), while the lid says "Four kinds of cheese!"
Ah, those were the days.