Uncle Vernon always smelled of sweat, cigars and blood. Slaughter house blood. He didn't do the slaughtering. But that blood scent soaked into your clothes.
He played accordion for the boss. The boss had a soft spot for him. See, Uncle Vernon wasn't the smartest. Had no skills. I don't even think he was all there after the war. The war will do that to a man.
Poor Uncle Vernon walked around like he owned the place. He believed he was a regular old Lawerence Welk. He wasn't. But they let him walk around thinking he was. That poor bastard!