We were in the seventh grade, I had just gotten back from Mexico. We were in school, and I had the great idea to blow up a street cone with an M80 (A quarter stick of dynamite, with a strange yellow fuse). So, Dominic (The only black kid at our school) and I go to blow the shit out of it behind school between class periods. He holds it, I light it. We expected the fuse to be slow burning. I lit it, and it was ONE FAST FUCKING FUSE!. Dominic drops it, goes to pick it up. I slap his hand and we run.. as I hear a huge pop, and feel the heat around my feet. We ran to class, 2 minutes late.
The jamitor comes in, and asks, "I need to see a Hyland boy and a black kid.."
Dominic stands up, turns around, and just shouts, "Oh hell no!" They almost blamed it on my twin, but it didn't stand.
I convinced the school that I had dropped a bag of pop pops and they blew, due to inpact sensativity, and I went back to class.
If that qualifies, I don't know. Funny though.