My brother Rollo and a few of his high school buds planned an overnight camp out at the beach. Rollo's friend Matt rolled up with his sleeping bag and a few supplies he glommed from his part-time grocery store job, including one giant institutional sized can of ravioli from the dented can discount pile.
Rollo, Matt and the guys sat around the fire, opened some beer and hard liquor and got their drunk on. Later, the group decided they were hungry. Matt grabbed his giant can of ravioli and threw it on the fire. Matt laughed when the can's paper label burned away. One of the smarter guys asked if Matt poked a hole in the top of the can before putting it on the fire.
"No, why would I do that?"
"Matt, you gotta vent the can, you dumb ass! Otherwise, the heat increases the internal pressure and the can will explode."
"Oh, okay, I don't have a can opener, do you?"
"Yeah, I got one. Here, you reach over the fire and poke a hole in it since you threw it on."
The guys drank more and more and later
the can exploded and a shower of searing hot ravioli rained on the now very intoxicated guys.
Some guys were pissed and yelling at Matt and some barely noticed the ravioli in their hair and stuck on their shirts. Matt finally admitted that he hadn't poked the hole in the can because "the can was too hot".
Guys being guys, they got over it and drank more.
The next morning, Rollo woke up to see the grisly aftermath of bloody carnage. Matt was no where in sight. "They killed him," Rollo thought but Matt walked up the camp site a minute later.
"I thought all of that was you," explained Rollo as he pointed to the sandy beach surrounding the camp site. It was littered with coagulated tomato sauce and shredded ravioli fragments, giving the impression of a very violent death and dismemberment.
Good times, good times.
2 comments:
When it comes to stuff guys do, I'm sometimes muted, like now.
Oh man...that is totally retarded.
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