Detective Keen left the scientist writhing on the floor getting a taste of his own medicine.

He army crawled to the canisters. He grabbed all three and stuffed them into the deep pockets of his duster. Then he took and deep breath of the fresh air at the floor level and hurled himself at the door. It burst open, dispersing purple fumes into the hall. An alarm sounded.

He ran for it, knocking lab-coated people aside and crashing through the lobby doors, and outside.

He made it safely to his rental car and checked himself in the rearview mirror for any missing parts.

He called the delighted ladies when he returned to his office. They came promptly and each opened her canister, the body parts floating back into place like some goofy sci-fi movie.

“Whew! These canisters stink! You smell that, Mrs. Blue?”
“Yeah, how can you stand it, Keen?”

“I don’t smell anything.”

“Well, you’re lucky. It stinks!”

“Must be allergies! Good bye ladies!” He ushered them out.

I guess if you had to lose a sense, smell is best