Idiots, falling anvils and explosives...
That could summarize my early teen years. Only it was more likely to be rocks than anvils.

I think I've mentioned this one before: the Polish Cannon. (You can Google for instructions on how to make one- I deny responsibility for this.) We used to make these little gasoline powered tennis ball launchers in the 70s, and somehow managed to escape injury.

However...

One day I said to my companions, "Hey, what if we soak the tennis ball in gasoline before we launch it?" The result: a fireball that arced through the air and left little flaming patches when it hit the ground.

Then says the idiot to his companions: "Hey, if we slice the ball a little and put some gasoline inside it as well, that could be cool!" The result: beady little eyes lighting up with pyromanaiacal glee all around me and someone scrambling to find a knife.

At this point sanity returned. "Uhh, guys, I gotta go now..."

The result: apparently a six foot blast of flame across the parking lot when it hit. I wouldn't know, as I got the fuck out of there.

Smartest move of my youth.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 12 Feb 2009, 20:32, Reply)