While a nice, lukewarm glob of grease sounds delicious and just what you need at a time like this, you decide to keep walking in the hopes that something cool happens. Not necessarily deux ex machin-y, but some kind of plot point or something.
However, one doesn't come. Much like in Zork, you don't see anything significant:
You are on a sidewalk. Small snowflakes lazily float round about you. It's cold.
>> Go home?