The Stench of Summer

Yes, it is the sure sign that the good weather is upon us - the acrid stench of charring flesh as the bloody barbecues come out up and down the country. Why, in God's name, do the British have such an obsession with the barbecue? Who in their right mind actually wants to sit outside eating meat that has either been burnt to a crisp or is still so raw it tries to run away from you, whilst flies, wasps and other assorted insects buzz around? Now, as you've probably gathered, I don't indulge in this particular summer pastime. However, rather like secondary smoking, I find myself subjected to its side-effects. For several days running last week I had my evenings ruined by the foul smell of my neighbour's barbecue wafting into my house, forcing me to close the windows at the rear of the house during one of the hottest spells of the year so far. The bloody awful smell lingers as well, meaning that even when I went to bed, several hours later, it was still clinging to my bedroom! I kept having nightmares about being burned at the stake!

Frankly, I'm amazed that in this health and safety obsessed era we live in, that garden barbecues are still allowed. Shouldn't the Food Agency (or whatever they're called these days) be raiding people's back gardens every weekend and testing their barbecued meat to check that it has been cooked properly? I live in hope that a wave of food poisoning brought on by under-cooked sausages will sweep away the weekend barbecuers. Mind you, if that doesn't kill them, surely they'll all be burned to death as they pour several gallons of petrol on their bloody barbecues to get them started. Indeed, the thick clouds of smoke I saw pouring across my garden fence a couple of Saturdays ago got my hopes up for a while - I fully expected to see my neighbour and his entire family stagger into my garden ablaze! As they screamed for help, I would politely point out that there was a hosepipe ban in force, so they'd just have to make do with rolling ineffectively on the ground. Sadly, this scenario proved to be no more than a pipe dream: it was only the steaks that had been incinerated. But why aren't there more serious accidents involving these death traps? Perhaps there are, but the barbecue industry has paid off the media to keep it quiet... Actually, there was a report the other weekend of two kids being seriously burned by a back garden barbecue. Apparently witnesses spoke of a 'mushroom cloud' of flame rising from the barbecue as petrol was poured on - they were bloody lucky they didn't look or sound foreign, or the Anti-Terror Squad would have been kicking their doors in accusing them of having Weapons of Mass Destruction.

Anyway, this barbecue business has got so bad that when, on Saturday, I passed my neighbour in the street as he returned from town clutching g a fresh bag of charcoal, I nearly broke down and begged him not to use it! Luckily, the weather changed - barbecues don't seem to work when it is overcast. However, this cooler weather can't last forever - we non-barbecuers have to act quickly! It is about time we organised an anti-barbecue campaign. Take this opportunity to break into next door's shed and sabotage their barbecue - saw through the legs so that it falls over and spreads red hot charcoal all over their feet! Pack them full of gunpowder so that they explode when the first steak is added! Even better, tip off any gangs of animal rights activists you know that your neighbours are going to be having a barbecue - if a bunch of militant vegetarians standing in their back garden waving placards and shouting 'meat is murder' doesn't put them off, nothing will! I know all this sounds a bit extreme, but don't we have the right to enjoy our Summer weekends without being driven from our gardens and houses by the rank odours and gaseous emissions emanating from our bloody neighbours?