How a teaching assistant’s “poop spray” left Florence High reeking — and $50,000+ poorer
When Classroom Odor Becomes Crime Scene
A $12 bottle of “liquid dookie” sparked $55,000 in repairs, asthma flare-ups, and a courtroom showdown
FLORENCE, S.C. – For nearly a month, Florence High School smelled like someone had flushed reality straight down the drain. Teachers gagged, students clutched their shirts over their noses, and maintenance crews tore apart the air system searching for a leak that wasn’t there.
It wasn’t a gas rupture. It wasn’t a sewer backflow. Deputies say it was a teaching assistant with a bottle of poop spray.
According to court filings, Alexander Lewis, 32, purchased the spray online—marketed to smell exactly like feces—and deployed it in classrooms and hallways between August 25 and September 19.
Brown cloud, green bills
The results were catastrophic for noses and budgets alike. Students and staff reported nausea, dizziness, headaches, and in some cases, asthma attacks. “My son’s asthma has been triggered multiple times because of this and I had to take him to the doctor three times,” one parent told local media.
Administrators, thinking the school was under chemical attack, ordered full inspections of gas lines, propane systems, and HVAC units. By the time the mystery was solved, the district had shelled out more than $55,000 in repairs and testing.
Courtroom odor
Lewis now faces charges of disturbing schools and malicious injury to property. A judge set bond just over $9,000, which is probably more than the spray company ever made in lifetime sales.
He’ll appear in Florence Magistrates Court on October 15 for the disturbance charge, and in General Sessions Court on November 19 for malicious injury. Additional charges are still possible.
The lesson?
For students, the takeaway is simple: not all bad smells are lunchroom mystery meat. For administrators, it’s a bitter truth—sometimes a $12 bottle of fake feces can leave you in the hole for $55,000.
And for the rest of us, this saga proves what we all secretly knew: in the great hierarchy of school disruptions, nothing clears a campus faster than the smell of weaponized poop.