once, in fort worth, i was living in an old, junky house that we heated with a franklin stove. one day my roommates and i were sitting in front of the fire, passing around a bottle of jack daniels. i got the idea to take a swig of whiskey and spit it into the fire. i knew some incendiary event would happen, but i was unprepared (in my drunkenness) for the huge plume of fire that shot out of the stove and enveloped me for a second. i wasn't burned or anything. but it was cool. a friend of mine used "flame" people while we were cruising around in our car. when we stopped at a red light, he'd lean out of the passenger's seat, take a swig of whiskey, light his lighter and then spit the whiskey out so that a burst of flame would hit the car next to us. once somebody shot at us. fire's some crazy shit.