I open it up, the scent of rotten everything slaps me across the face. What small piece of hell could she have sent me this time?
Milk?? No, wait, what's this inside the carton?
But what in sam hell is that awful smell?
She packed ripe tomatoes around the milk cartons.
That is to say, she packed ripe tomatoes around the milk cartons in a box going through the mail.
This is far and away better than the time she sent shortbread cookies in a regular envelope. They arrived exactly as you might expect: completely disintegrated back into their original ingredients.
However, the three jars of homeade antipasto arrived safe, if a little smelly. There is nothing in the world better than homeade antipasto and I will wade through cardboard boxes soaked in rotten tomatoes for it anyday.