07.08.03
Fireworks
You may say I was inspired by Scaryduck, or you could just say I’m ripping off his ideas for fun and profit. Either way, here’s a tale about fireworks.
I like fire. I also like explosives. This has given me two things; one being a healthy respect for flames and the other being a modest collection of burns.
Needless to say, October/November is my favourite time of year. Many years ago my mother bought me a collection of rockets. She trusted me too much, I think. We planned to set them off in the garden later as it was too light to see them explode properly. I’m far too impatient for that.
She wasn’t really paying enough attention I think, because, again she trusted me to just get on with whatever it is that I do. I’m quite independant you know. Anyway, I managed to slip one of the rockets out of the packaging and I had it the livingroom, pondering what I was going to do. Being a scientifically minded pyro, I thought I’d detonate small quantities in a controlled environment, as you do. So I ripped the rocket to pieces and poured the sacred black powder into a handy ashtray. I then got a matchbox and ripped that apart too. Did I mention I was a destructive child? Using some of the matchbox I scraped some of the powder aside. Thinking I’d left enough room to avoid the rest of the powder from going off, I put a match to the small test sample. What can I say? I was young, stupid and had ready access to explosives.
BOOOOOOOOM!!!
An ear-splitting explosion followed by a few seconds of eerie high-pitched whining, until my mother shouted, “What the hell was that!” Or at least I think that’s what she shouted, you see, I couldn’t hear her very well. What with just setting off a whole extra-fancy jumbo sized rocket all at once in the living room. I was just lying there at ground zero, on my back, with my feet in the air and a sort of goofy smile on my face.
Do you know what the most amazing thing is? She still trusts me.