Back in high school, when potassium nitrate was easily procured from garden supply stores, I made a smoke bomb by melting sugar and the potassium nitrate in a pot of the stove. Well, it was a gas stove and it got hot enough to ignite. Flames and smoke shoot straight up like a rocket engine facing the sky. In the immediate moments after my life flashed before my eyes, the entire ceiling was hugged by a thick, pillowy layer of smoke that began to quickly descend and visibility became zero. I clumsily made it outside, not after bagging myself on the corner of the dining room table to find the smoke billowing out of the house as the neighbors watched in fascination. In retrospect, I found it odd that nobody called the fire department or anything. Good neighbors.
There was also the time when I visited my uncle who was a professor in biology and got a tour of the anatomy lab at a university hospital. That was probably kind of traumatizing for my pre-Walking Dead desensitized eyes to see.
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