Jay

I must have had it on for only seconds as I realized the error of my ways and I thought, shit, I better come up with a different idea.

Now I'm surrounded by these little burning fuckers as well.

Adrenaline level four.

I will point out that I'm not a complete dickhead.

I had turned the smoker off, but it was still full of these little pallet fireballs.

So my next thought was to use a vacuum cleaner.

My next thought was to use a vacuum cleaner and suck these little bastards out.

So I grabbed the vacuum cleaner.

I had one for cleaning the barbecue.

You kind of need one.

And turned it on and started sucking out the pellets.

This seemed to be going well.

Fuck me though, out of the corner of my eye, a fair dinkum saw what looked like a premium top fuel dragster as blasted out the back of the vacuum cleaner with flames as big as anything I'd seen trying to launch any of those dickhead Bezos or Musk or Bransons into space.

So now I had a smoker still on fire, a vacuum cleaner looking like it was about to launch for the fucking moon.

And on the ground around me, I was surrounded by the burning embers of the blown out pellets that now look like an Anthony fucking Robbins fire walk.

At this stage, the smoker was no longer on fire as the blower and vacuum cleaner had done their jobs and removed the pellets from the smoker.

Success.

At this point, the adrenaline was leaving my body and I started to feel pain on the bottoms of my feet.

Yes, that's right, I was in bare feet and I'd been stomping around all over the Anthony fucking Robbins firewalk and it burnt the bottoms of my feet to go along with my now hairless arms, no eyelashes or eyebrows.

Fuck me, it hurt.