Polish cannons!
(Forgive the politically incorrect name- it was the 1970s and Polish jokes were still acceptable.)

Long before potato guns there were Polish cannons, one of the silliest and most dangerous things we could have made in retrospect. Back then tennis balls came in a big metal tube with a lid that you peeled off like a can of Pringles. To make a cannon we would get three tubes, take off both the top and bottom from two of them and duct tape them together on top of the third can which still had the bottom to form a tube about three feet long. We would then use a hammer and nail to punch a little grid of holes in the side near the bottom of the last can to act as a touch hole. To fire this thing we put about a half cup of gasoline in it, followed by the tennis ball, shook it violently for a few moments with one hand over the touch hole and the other over the muzzle, then moved our hands out of the way while someone else passed the lit match over the touch hole. It would launch the ball a good three hundred feet.

So a bunch of us were screwing around one day with this thing when I got a brilliant idea: soak the ball in gasoline first, then launch it. As I watched, Dave and Steve did so and launched it across the football field toward the empty parking lot of the school. As hoped, it trailed fire through the air. Fucking cool! Flaming comets! All agreed that this was a worthy innovation.

After a few more barrages I had another idea. Slice the ball and put some gasoline inside as well! Their beady little adolescent eyes lit up as they thought it through and one of them produced a knife.

I thought it through a little further. "Umm, guys, this might not really be a good idea-"

"What? It's gonna be cool! What the matter, chicken? Then get lost!"

Suddenly that sounded like a Very Good Idea, and I got out of there fast.

From what I heard later, their first shot hit the ground and emitted a nice gout of flame. Emboldened by this they did it a few more times until they reached the obvious conclusion I had foreseen: the dumpster in the middle of the parking lot would make an excellent target. The dumpster that all of the school's trash was in from the previous week. Most of which was paper.

I kept very quiet as my parents wondered why the fire truck was going toward the school...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 2 Nov 2007, 20:32, Reply)