Pic-nicked.

"Well, all that planning for nothing," sighed Mrs. Steed. "We thought this would be an afternoon of riparian delights, but it seems that our little summertime regatta is undeniably spoiled."

"Who could have foreseen that body dredging for that missing Boy Scout leader?" replied Rusty, a quaver in his voice. "I'd hoped to play a little wiffle ball."