I partially made my way through college gambling on pool (billiards)
so I spent a bit of time in the game room.

I was racking, and my opponent - a rather beefy fellow - hurled the que off of the rack and straight at my face.

I nonchalantly caught it, inches from my face (okay, with a great and purely lucky degree of reflex) and managed to drive the fire of my lit cigarette into the back of my hand. The ball stung enough that I didn't notice the burn, and I opened my mouth - to silently scream with pain at the ball - and managed to extract the still-lit cigarette (butt and all) from my mouth, as it soldered it's way into my skin. Seconds later, as my palm cooled, I found urgent interest in the boiling bastard, drilling itself into the back of my hand. It had nearly extinguished as I brushed it off, but it left a terrible hole in the back of my hand.

A decade later, the scar is still plainly visible.
( Syncubus Yarr! Ye'll be walking Planck's Constant! [GMT-5], Sat 5 Feb 2005, 0:07, Reply)