Fear of Cold
For some reason, I am stranded in an extremely cold environment without my coat, and beginning to wonder if my life is in danger. After what seems like enough suffering has already taken place, I am fortunate enough to find a house, into which I break in and find a marginal amount of relief. There is nothing at all in the house, there is no power of any kind, and there is a large pile of dead ants near the bathroom door. I am a direct descendant not of MacGyver but his old-fashioned sister, and so I end up using my Other-MacGyver skills to weave a blanket out of the dead ants, which I finish in an extremely quick manner, and then throw it over my body, begging it to bring me warmth. What happens is that I am so grossed out at the fact of having a blanket of ants covering my body, that I soon enough grow both very sick and intensely anxious about the situation, all of which nervous energy serves to cause the blood cells in my body to vibrate vibrate vibrate until I am quite warm, and stay warm until the weather goes warm and I am saved from dying.