We don't need no water...

...but we might have.

(*NOTE*: This is, admittedly, an old story. But, because this is my do-over (and my brainspace), I am re-posting it. Followed by one more old story from an old blog, mostly because I hate throwing things away. But I know when to quit. And two is enough.)

Last year, my friend Megan and I almost burned down the Administration Building.

Well, not on purpose.

It was just that we were there, in that big, old building (haunted? not? I'm not convinced either way) at 2 a.m. in the pitch-ass-black, trying to turn in a research paper. In short, we were terrified. Holding hands, actually (a momentary and unusual lapse of courage, I assure you).
Our solution? Set a wad of paper on fire, Indiana Jones-style. (OK, that was my bad idea. Megan was a skeptic from the start).

So I'm holding this wad of paper and Megan lights the 1 match we posess and holds it to the makeshift torch.

It singes...it crackles...it fizzles out.

OUT!

And so we're standing there in the dark, me with the charred evidence, Megan with the empty matchbook in the middle of this old, wooden hallway, surrounded by smoke (and smoke detectors, which thankfully but suspiciously failed).

So, logically,
we run.

Down two flights of stairs, me stamping out the remaining evidence and laughing hysterically while Megan thinks up imaginary headlines:

"Sorority girls say: 'the Admin burned my homework!' "
and
"Afraid of the dark, girls make a fire... of the Administration building".

Anyway, we eventually find creepy horror-flick janitors who unbelievably direct us, through the smoke, to the light switches.

*Aah, electricity.*