After what could have easily been three hours underwater, you finally draw your head back up, peering around to see if anyone else had slipped into the pool area while you were down there. Realizing that you are seemingly alone, you breathe a sigh of relief, running a hand through your sopping wet hair. And then, as if fate is playing a practical joke on you, a disembodied voice spoke up behind you.

"What's cooking, good-looking?"