"Bmmvvvhh!" I protested.
I was blind. And I couldn't breathe. But the fire was out, and Molly was alive, so the expedition had been a success. I began to wonder about my own prospects because the room was filled with smoke and it had been some time since my lungs had had anything in them but carbon vapors and fire retardant. I was growing a little faint.
People rushed by. As I crawled along the floor looking for oxygen, I could hear their concerned voices comforting Molly and congratulating her hairstylist on his moxie in the face of peril. I bumped into a wall. More footsteps as the door was pried open and the couch was dragged out into the open air. The voices retreated.
The room was now empty. I was a charred survivor of my first asado. On hands and knees, gagging, I was left alone and in peace, the dream of every true gaucho. It was comforting to know that in a tight spot no one had seen me flinch.