The rain continued to fall, slashing into me like tiny needles thrown by an angry and resourceful God. With a sad, undramatic noise not unlike "thud", my garden umbrella fell slowly into the barbeque. Normally, this would worry me, but the rain had long since triumphed over the fiery grate, and had consumed the sausages in an orgy of gloop and pig anus'. I continued to stand still, spatula raised half-heartedly, ridiculous cliched apron and hat that came free with the barbeque fixed in place. Eventually, I crumpled into a ball and cried.
The doctor tells me I have hypothermia. Probably because i was lying there for 36 hours.
I propose the creation of a heated apron, but I doubt anyone will listen.