The worst smell in my memories of nasty smells had to be my dad after work. He was a mechanic at an auto dealership/repair shop. The shop wasn't ventilated -at least not enough to be noticeable- and it gets hot and extremely muggy in eastern South Dakota.
So he'd come in, surrounded by a cloud of old motor oil, sweat, dirty socks, a faint hint of Aqua Velva left from his morning shave, ButchWax, and a beer or two on his breath, and he'd often enhance that by having another beer and opening a can of sardines packed in mustard while Ma got dinner on. I'd rather smell Limburger! And Braunswieger. Combined. And he knew it. He'd grin at us and say, "Oh, c'mere and give your hard working old daddy a smootch" and then do that puckered lip thing. And then he'd laugh and laugh. Most kids remember the soft, gentle smells of their dads....faint pipe smoke, Irish Spring soap, all of those sentimental things. My dad just, well, he was gamey. But he did take a bath while we set the table. Not sure if he was protecting his appetite or ours. But oh, how we loved him!
