Masterchefs

My chicken-slaughtering neighbours are hosting a little social gathering on their patio at the moment. Rather than fueling their barbecue with firewood or charcoal however, they appear to be using Industrial Revolution-era factory-powering chunks of coal.

The noxious fumes and clouds of smog are irritating the resident baby (and me), which is howling more than usual. If it's the same baby, that is. I have a theory that as soon as the baby starts learning to walk and crying a bit less, they immediately replace it with another screeching infant. It's a baby farm! Or else there is just the one baby, and it's got arrested development.