I'm still giggling, give me a second...
Oh, I had this cat -- little black ball o' fluff, turned into an absolutely handsome tom -- he'd come out of the bathroom looking proud of himself, and then the odor would hit. I swear I could have bottled that, and sold it to the military!
He was good at handling rude guests, too -- he'd start by smothering them with "kisses" and purrs, killing them with his powers of CUTE, then fart right in their faces.
My way of handling the rude and disrespectful is to issue one warning, and if that is ignored, it's automatic: Leave. I don't care if it's my *mother*, the rules are in place for a reason -- to preserve my sanity.