His Name's Jay, I Think He's Retarded or Something

I'm sitting in Jay's basement, relaxing after work , watching the hockey game. Jay's been working outside all day and decides to put his funky, smelling feet up on the coffee table that we both are using for our suppers. After about 10 seconds, we both smell it. Somewhere between a wet dog and really strong buffalo wings, Jays feet are making us both gag. So, this idiot decides to take action. He grabs a bottle of Febreeze from the table and proceeds to spray his feet like 15 times each.
"I really don't think you're supposed to do that" I says to him.
"Really?"
"No."
"It'll be fine. You put it on clothes, why can't you put it on skin."

(Forward 3 minutes)

"I think my feet are starting to itch."
"Well, no shit. You hosed them down with chemicals."
"You don't think I was supposed to do that?" As he starts checking the back of the bottle for some kind of warning.
"I was pretty clear on this."
"They're really starting to itch now."
"Well then go wash them off."
"I'll wait till after this period is over."