Where there's smoke...

Michael and I are very reluctant to move out of our home, but the new neighbours are really very trying. There are extremely young, and extremely social. They like entertaining over weekends. Right outside our bedroom window.
Tonight, they lit a fire, for the purpose of cooking their meat, I presume, but it's been burning for over three hours, and they've only now put the meat on. Our whole house is filled with smoke, even though we have the windows closed. Our clothes smell of smoke, our curtains, our sheets, pillow-cases, everything. My nostrils are burning, my throat is burning, it's just plain awful. And what can I do? Sweet bugger-all. Except move, that is. I'm tired of this obsession with braai-ing. Doesn't anyone know how to cook anymore? Or order a bloody pizza. Anything. Just stop this incessant and endless braai-ing. I feel like a wild animal that is being smoked out of its lair. Is it just me? Or do other people actually like having everything they own smell of smoke? No man, this can't be right.