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Cheshir

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One afternoon on June 8^th I learned a very important lesson, controlled substances are controlled for a reason and don't procure them from your friend's unscrupulous uncle. Now it's important to know why I was putting napalm into paintballs, so you get a complete picture. In paintball you wear protective gear to keep from being hurt, but there are some people who like to freeze their paintballs so they leave nice big bruises even if you're wearing protective gear. So being ten years old I figured fire's the opposite of ice, so I'd burn the bungholes. The only snag in my plan is I didn't know how to make napalm yet.

            Now I'd been using the science section of my public library for revenge for years, but mainly to foam toilets and use citric acid and chlorine to turn my brother's hair traffic cone orange, but I had never attempted a feat of this magnitude. But lo and behold! Using polystyrene, petrol, and benzene, I could make napalm. The one problem was the benzene; being a controlled substance, the only way to obtain it was through the government or a chemistry teacher's catalog. These walls left me with but one option, I had to talk to my friend Jeremy.  Now Jeremy had an uncle who I usually used to just get illegal fireworks and black gunpowder for mushroom clouds, but Jeremy said the guy could get anything. The thing about Jeremy's uncle was he was either your best friend or he hated you depending on his alcohol consumption. But I knew having just purchased six pounds of fireworks from the guy, he'd be happy to see me. So I deliberated with Jeremy's uncle for about four hours; it should have only taken about thirty minutes but the guy wouldn't stay conscious. In the end, he agreed, and told me in a long slur that it would be about a hundred bucks and one week of waiting.

            So I waited, marking off each day on my calendar with little malevolent smiley faces, my bruises constantly reminding me that in one week, revenge would be mine. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday the day had come at last; as I waited for the bell to ring, I sat in my seat with a smile that was later described as dementedly sadistic. When the bell finally rang, I bolted upright and hurdled towards the door with a speed I have not achieved since. I quickly made a beeline for the outside door were Jeremy was waiting for me. When I got outside, Jeremy informed me that the benzene had arrived and that he would bring it to my house tomorrow. That night I just laid awake in my bed, unable to sleep, not from anticipation, because at two in the morning the only thing you have enough energy for is going to the bathroom, but rather from insomnia. Finally after a long sleepless night, Saturday came and with it came Jeremy.

            I sat waiting for Jeremy, a blur in my chair, again not from anticipation but from the three pots of coffee I drank and again, I had to pee. But when Jeremy finally arrived we proceeded to my backyard and into my shed, where I stored my fireworks and gunpowder, which being ten seemed a perfect place to work with a highly flammable liquid. Now benzene can come in gas, liquid and powder form; we were using liquid, but it wont burn without an igniter say a type of alkali metal that when exposed to air or submerged is harmless but when combined tends to combust, again chemistry catalog. As I started to work I pontificated to Jeremy the Process we would be fallowing.

• Step one- grinned up polystyrene.
• Step two- soak polystyrene in petrol.
• Step three- open paintball and add polystyrene and igniter.
• Step four- seal paintball with sealing wax.
• Step five- take small siring and add benzene.
• Step six- seal and let cool.

It was a fairly easy prose's with only a few paintballs spontaneously combusting from rolling of the table, or breaking open in the final step, or say being left in direct sun light. After we had about six we took them to the concrete wall in my backyard to test them, and they worked like a charm. So rather proud of my scientific ingenuity we made five-dozen more napalm balls and took our remaining arm hair and called it a day.

      So we packed it up, putting the napalm balls next to the fire works. The petrol, polystyrene, and igniter in a neat pile on the floor. The benzene on a rickety table above it. Why? Because I'm ten and seeing a problematic situation is not my strong suit. So I left the shed and headed back towards my house. As I got to the porch I heard a slam, I immediately turned and yelled, "Don't slam the door!" then my shed exploded. The roof going strait up, the back hitting a wall, the left side hitting and getting stuck in a fence, the right side a wall, the front hitting Jeremy. Now there were many things that could have led to this out come but needless to say, I was happy I had peed before hand.

Now needless to say things were looking bad, I had just lost about three hundred dollars in explosive combustibles, and now I had to explain to my mom why there was a hole where the shed had been, but first, I had to stop laughing. Sadly she couldn't see the humor and the more I tried to explain it, the madder she seamed to get. This was here own fault, because I'm sure she would have seen the humor if she would have stopped interrupting me with inane questions like "You did what?!", "You got it from where?!", "You spent how much on fire works?!", which if she had been paying attention she would know the first time I said it. As punishment I was no longer aloud to buy fire works and I was banned from going to the library without adult supervision, oh and I got grounded and had to zero-scape the yard. And ironically I never anticipated any of it. So all in all I guess the lesson here could be don't play with dangers chemicals, or to be careful, or duck. But personally I've taken my lesson from Jeremy, sheds are heavy.