Have a marrowfat pearoast
One morning our headmaster interrupts his normal assembly address to ask for volunteers. Myself and a couple of chums slung up our arms, and were duly chosen for a special task - smashing up the sixth-form pool table, which was being replaced.

Given a selection of hammers and axes, we were told that we could do as we pleased, provided that the valuable slate came off in one piece. We merrily chopped, hacked, stomped, splintered, crunched and smashed our way through the next two school periods until we were left with a pile of woody bits, the coin mechanism (which I took home as a trophy) and the pool balls. The school groundsman came and set light to our pile of achievement, congratulated us (swore), and sauntered off.

Now, given that this great big blaze was on the same day as PE, half-empty deoderant cans were lobbed on the fire as soon as the groundsman turned his back. We were treated to a rippling CRACKcrackCRACKCRACKcrack as they went off in quick succession - broad grins were exchanged. We eyed the faux-ivory pool balls.

On the fire they went.

As we legged it to the safety of a hedge, we spotted the school badboi (innit) saunter up and add his deoderant can to the pile. He must have got the shock of his life – instead of one measly 'crack', he was treated to a juddering calamity of explosions as several of the plastic balls went at once. The other balls went off shortly after - neatly drowning out the headmaster's vitriolic ravings as he raced up to Mr Badboi and accused him of trying to level the school.

This was fun for, ooh, all of thirty seconds, before I discovered that my warm glow of satisfaction was, in fact, a slightly on-fire jumper.
(SimianKid internet faffer, Thu 8 Nov 2012, 17:25, 1 reply)

"a juddering calamity of explosions" - nice.
( MrCrisps Likes crisps but not Misters, Thu 8 Nov 2012, 21:35, closed)