A bacon butty (or something like that) salesman has been applying his trade around the area, because of the crowds Mr Blaine is attracting. Davey B is complaining that the smell is annoying him. In other words, he forgot to take into account that while he's in his box other people will actually be going about their daily lives, eating food, throwing eggs, y'know, the usual stuff.
Ah, poor Davey boy. You know, if I was encased in a transparent case, I'd probably pass the time by complaining about the pettiest of things, too.
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