These two have got to be the smelliest cheeses in the world. Got by Mum and Dad at a farm shop right near the Belgian border, east of Armentieres, they are "Maroilles" (you need to be able roll the "r" like a Frenchman to say them correctly; we dogs would rather roll in them) and Vieux Lille.
As such they are now confined to the fridge to reduce the release of volatiles and essential oils, and locked within an airtight tupperware box. This might have something to do with Megan and I being glued to the kitchen and getting under every one's feet when they were out on the worktop.
Not sure how you pronounce "Fauquet", maybe a bit like what Dad said when he tripped over us because we were under foot in the kitchen.