You carry the box you've found into your bathroom, setting it down on the counter near the sink. The glass bottles make a loud clinking noise - it's much louder than you'd expect a box with four bottles to make.
But that's the least of your problems right now. You're more concerned with whoever sent you this box in the first place. You've never been particularly fastidious about your grooming, and your friends were well aware of the fact. Sure, you took care of yourself, but you weren't the type of guy who had a daily moisturizing regime, collections of hair products, and the like. Off the top of your head, you can't think of a single person who's send you a box of colognes as a gift.
And speaking of gifts - it's not as if there was a particular occasion to justify this one. Right? Your birthday is still a couple of months away, and, since you haven't been in a relationship for quite a while, there isn't any reason someone would mistakenly have sent you this as an anniversary gift.
You heft the box up again, inspecting the bottles. You marvel at the weight. For something so small, it weighs an awful lot.
Wait a moment. Something doesn't seem to check out.
The box seems much too large for only the four bottles of cologne at the top. There's a large amount of extra size at the bottom that doesn't seem to be accounted for when you look inside the box again. The four bottles resting at the top seem to be raised up by something else - or perhaps even covering something else.
You gingerly extricate the small bottles from the thin wrapping paper, and feel, much to your satisfaction, another row of bumps on what you first thought was the bottom of the box.
You pull out the divider - because it really was a divider - to reveal another row of bottles, and then pull out yet another divider to reveal a third row below that. You pull out the small glass containers, placing them in a row in front of the bathroom sink.
They seem to glisten with every color of the rainbow. You painstakingly read every single label, commiting them to memory for future inspection.
You've seen the top row - Good Old Country Boy in red; Rap Superstar in black; Buff Beach Bod in yellow; and, of course, Supermodel God in green - so you set them aside for now.
From the second row, there's a bottle labelled, quite oddly, with Cop A Feel. The cologne inside shimmers with a shade of navy blue that doesn't seem completely natural. Another bottle has a rich gold liquid inside of it, titled rather unimaginatively with Golden Boy. A silvery cologne has the label Mature Man, and a brown one the simpler label Au Naturel. At least you know what that one means.
From the third row, there's a bottle filled with a pale, ivory liquid with the label Beached Whale. Beside it is a purple fluid titled Royally Inclined, and next to it a bottle filled with glittery pink labelled Fey & Fab. The last bottle, with the words Lumberjack printed on it, looks a little odd. When you lean in to inspect it you realize that the cologne inside is, rather alarmingly, in plaid. You tilt the bottle this way and that. The liquid sloshes, but the plaid pattern seems to remain cohesive. How the hell does that work?
Even though you have no idea where these colognes came from, you find yourself struck with the sudden desire to try one of them. Just a little squirt can't hurt, right?