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This is a question Fire!

We were all in my aunt's kitchen at the back of her huge rambling Victorian house. I was only small and had wandered off to go to the loo, but given up after finding the hall full of smoke. "That was quick," my mum said after a few minutes. "Yes - it's all smoky," I replied.

I've never seen adults move so fast.

So, like my cousin who'd managed to set fire to the roof, tell us your fire stories.

(, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:11)
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Tales of youth...
although this is not too many years back, I was still an arrogant adolescent prick who would do this sort of thing. (Okay, yes, I'm still a very immature, slightly older adolescent, but much less arrogant and prickish)

Me and my mate, who was even more of an arrogant prick, decided to go out for a bike ride round some country lanes. We didn't get far when we passed a stack of straw bales. "Let's set fire to it" says my mate, producing an aerosol and matches. Me agreeing, we proceeded to climb up onto the bales, sprayed the aerosol onto a bale and applied the matches. Surprisingly, it didn't erupt into flames immediately, so we applied yet more matches. Eventually, it began to smoulder and a few seconds later, flames appeared. IMMEDIATELY, we regretted it and started stamping on it. This only seemed to have the effect of spreading the fire. I ran to the nearest house and started begging for a bucket of water from the old lady living there. Of course, she wanted to know why I would want such a thing, and I had to hurriedly explain that we had "discovered" a bale on fire and wanted to put it out. She asked if she should call the fire brigade. "No." I said, "It's only a small fire, we can put it out". She reluctantly handed over a bucket of water and I dashed off to find my mate still furiously stamping at the fire, more a smouldering mess, now, but still eating away at the bale. I slowly poured the bucket over it but it didn't put the fire out. Bugger! I went back to the old lady to ask for more water. "It's okay", she said, "I've called the fire brigade". "Oh, Fuck!", thinks me.
A few minutes later sirens can be heard in the distance. The lady also had contacted the owner of the bales, it seems, as the guy drove up in his tractor demanding our names to give to the police. Thinking quickly, I gave him the name of the most unpopular guy at school, instead of my own. Probably not the best idea, but it made sense to my adolescent mind. Haha! Now some innocent guy has arson on his police record (we hope).
From there, it all deteriorated into severe parental bollocking.

And we would have gotten away with it too if it wasn't for that meddling old bitch.
(, Mon 7 Nov 2005, 17:47, Reply)

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