When I was in Junior High School, I was very inquisitive about fireworks. that is to say, I did some REALLY dumb things with them. Scientifically speaking, I reverse-engineered the construction of certain items and rebuilt them into new (and more exciting!) forms. There used to be a firework popularly known as a "Whistling Pete." This item would emit a shrill screaming sound as the filling burned away. Sometimes we would crimp near the bottom to make the Pete explode as it finished it's performance. But I wanted MORE. Scrounging up some cash, I bought about twenty of them. One evening, I took them outside to the sidewalk near my house, and began to carefully unwrap and extract the saltpeter (aka flash powder) filling into a tidy cone-shaped pile. Flash Powder. You've seen those old movies where photographers ignite a pile of powder with a terrific white flash and huge cloud of smoke? That's what I wanted to do.

Once I had the material piled up, I began lighting safety matches and dropping them (from a safe distance) at the pile. Darn it! I kept missing, or the match would extinguish before it landed and nothing happened. My matches were nearly gone, and I was about to go get another book. Enter Mike.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"I'm just trying to light this pile on fire, Mike." "Okay." Without another word, Mike whipped his cigarette lighter out, squatted down over the pile, and ---WHOOSH!!! A TREMENDOUS flash of light, a HUGE cloud of white smoke, and the vision of Mike falling backwards, both arms wrapped completely around his head. "Mike! Mike! Are you all right?" "Wha- Wha- Yeah, 'm okay, I think." Mike looked a little soot-covered, but okay- until he reached his hand up and WIPED OFF his eyebrows.

His vision seemed okay, though, so I started laughing my a** off when I saw that his eyebrows, eyelashes, and about three centimeters of the front of his hair had been completely reduced to ashes. His face and hands were lobster-red with minor flash burns. The next morning, Mike tried to wear a hat and sunglasses to breakfast. His parents, on learning the story, declared the I was a bad influence ON HIM! He was not allowed to see me for a month. So, I was officially a bad person. On the other hand, my fireworks experiment had been a stunning success!

Submitted on 10/26/2012

Submitted by: J. T.
Reference: Personal Account

Copyright © 2012 DarwinAwards.com

Bruce said:
Definitely Keep: Personal Account
Although fireworks-related stories are extremely commonplace I think this is well worth a PA nod. The description of of Mike reminds me of some of the images from the Little Rascals TV show I watched as a kid!

Candi said:
Definitely Keep: Personal Account
Oh dear lord. Granted, he may not have been aware that the pile was *that* explosive, but fireworks *were* involved! And it's just so cartoony! Thanks, JT!

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