I did something like this once, when I was in High School. A lady friend came over, while my parents were out of town, and we thought we would fire up the grill and make some burgers. It was winter, and the grill was in the garage, so I just left it in there, because hey, it's cold out there.
I was having trouble with the piezo ignition, and I left for a moment to grab some matches, lid shut, gas on. Guess what that makes? Incendiary device!
I returned, struck the match about a foot from the grill, and was immediately engulfed in flames. The lid flew off the grill, smashed through the plywood floor above into the storage area, the rest of the grill was scattered around the garage, the nearest light fixture was destroyed, soot everywhere, and I was left with much less hair than I had only moments prior. My clothes were extinguished in short order (stop drop and roll kids), and I wasn't too bad, but I had a minor burn on my arms, hands, face and chest.
This was before the days of OMGROFL, but that's exactly what my friend did, after her initial scream. We are still the best of friends to this day.
I had a spotty history with that garage. I slid through one of the wooden roll up doors one winter, and repaired and repainted it before my dad got home, I rebuilt my first VW engine in there, built my first piece of furniture in there (for the same girl mentioned above) and even accidentally shot a hole in the wall once.
Good times. It's a wonder people like me survive their childhood, really. I have learned a lot of lessons the hard way over the years. Or was it the fun way?
Some friends used to have a large bonfire during paintball weekends when we were in school, and we would occasionally collect spent Paslode fuel canisters at jobsites, and toss one in the fire near the end of the night. Wait two seconds, yell RUN or FIRE IN THE HOLE and run like hell. The bonfire would be eliminated, along with all the evidence and sometimes a chair or two.
I wonder sometimes what kind of trouble my daughter will get herself into.