If ever I want to give my late, unlamented sister-in-law—she's not dead, she's just not my sister-in-law any more—a present (other than a punch in the chops) then I need look no further than the Hot Dog Temperature Alert system for cars. Install it, turn it on, and if the temperature rises above a preset one, then the windows roll down automatically, the horn sounds and a man in uniform appears as if by magic with a red hot poker that he rams up your arse. Okay, so I made that last bit up, but here's a story about my late (I wish) unlamented sister-in-law that you might enjoy.
A few years ago, when she and my brother's relationship was in its infancy, and she just seven months pregnant, they went off to an agricultural show. As you do. It was a hot day and they left the three dogs they owned in the back of their SUV. On their return to the car several hours later, they found a window smashed and no mutts.
"A dognapping!" they shrieked, hotfooting it (or, in her case, waddling) to the information tent as quickly as they could. On arrival, they had their details taken, including names, address and licence plates. The man on the front desk, after casting a knowing glance at his colleagues, sent them off to the SPCA tent.
They got there to find the three dogs lolling about behind three very stern-looking women d'un certain age who informed my brother and his horrible, moustachioed girlfiend (sic) that, no, the dogs had not been stolen, that the SPCA had received several calls from concerned show visitors that they had seen three very distressed-looking mutts barking in the back of a steamed-up car, and so their officers had broken a window and liberated the dogs from their prison-cum-sauna.
And the irony of all of this? My dearly demented ex-sister-in-law has a Ph.D from Oxford University in Animal Behaviourism. Her specialist subject is, apparently, the wild dogs of Zimbabwe. Anyway, I think that US$366.45 is too much for a present for someone you're not very keen on. [Criminalistics Inc via Nerd Approved]