Luckily, the black smell of smoke was a familiar one to Fred since he'd retired and helped Fiona sometimes in the kitchen.

He remembered this time to grab the pot with a potholder, shut off the burner, and put the pot in the sink. He turned on the faucet full blast.

Grey clouds puffed out of the sink for a while like Indian twitters. The air hung heavy with burnt chicken, so he opened the windows and sprayed Glade.