stink

verb

1. (intransitive)To have a strong bad smell.
2. (informal, intransitive, stative)To be greatly inferior; to perform badly.

   “That movie stinks. I didn't even stay for the end.”

   “They gave me Out of Africa, by Isak Dinesen. I thought it was going to stink, but it didn't. It was a very good book.”

   “My French stinks, Langdon thought, but my zodiac iconography is pretty good. Taurus was always the bull. Astrology was a symbolic constant all over the world.”

   “Improve your golf swing by taking your mate to the driving range. If you're good, you can show off and give her some tips. If you stink, play it for laughs.”

3. (intransitive)To give an impression of dishonesty, untruth, or sin.

   “Something stinks about the politician's excuses.”

   “The parish stank of idolatry, abominable rites were practiced in secret, and in all the bounds there was no one had a more evil name for the black traffic than one Alison Sempill, who bode at the Skerburnfoot.”

4. (transitive)To cause to stink; to affect by a stink.

noun

1. (countable, uncountable)A strong bad smell.

   ““I’m thankful for this beautiful morning!” He points toward the sky. “See that sunrise? Smell that air—” / “That’s stink from the rendering plant.””

2. (countable, informal, uncountable)A complaint or objection.

   “If you don't make a stink about the problem, nothing will be done.”

   “She's made a big stink about me calling her "Miss", not "Ms".”

adj

1. (New-Zealand, slang)Bad; inferior; worthless.

   “The concert was stink. / That was a stink concert.”

2. (Caribbean, Guyana, Jamaica)Bad-smelling, stinky.

   “2013, Stabroek News, 19 February 2013, cited by Deborah Jan Osman Backer in a speech delivered in the National Assembly during the Budget Debate, 2013, Everyone is up in arms but it smells stink because it smells of racism…”

   “Spending hours in a “stink" morgue, being called “Taliban”, thinking of getting shot in the head by officers—memories of Venezuela that have left Hamza Mohammed, imam of the Montrose mosque, still trembling today.”

   “2016, Kei Miller, Augustown, New York: Pantheon, Chapter 1, p. 5, […] what Ma Taffy smells on this early afternoon makes her sit up straight. She smells it high and ripe and stink on the air, like a bright green jackfruit in season being pulled to the rocky ground below.”