Flaming Marshmallows

Today was probably the best day of Chemistry ever. For one, we made freakin' smores. With Bunsen burners. Mmm, gas-flavored roasted marshmallows. Anyway, it was all made even better if you can believe it, when Lauren, who is not in my class, got to sit in my class and do it with my group since she missed it last week! So now I will tell you our epic smore adventure and also how our life was threatened.

I learned a couple of things in this oh-so-educational day of Chemistry. Both about Lauren.

1. Lauren likes her marshmallows burned. Not roasted to a nice golden brown, but crumbly black, gooey burned. 

2. Lauren should not be allowed to handle flammable things near fires. Ever.

Now, I bet you're wondering how our lives could have possibly been threatened by the wonderful experience of eating smores in a Chem lab with all the lights off and a projection of a campfire on the board. The thing is, we were all eating our yummy chocolate, marshmallow, and graham cracker inventions, occasionally catching the marshmallows on fire for fun.  As shown here (ignore my awkward face): 

 And here (this is our twisted and slightly-on-the-violent-side friend David. He's Albino. And I hope he doesn't care his picture is on our blog. Oh well, he has no choice.):

 Okay, well eventually Lauren and I decided we wanted a picture of both of us holding up flaming marshmallows. You can see where this might go wrong. You know from the aforementioned that Lauren likes her 'mallows on the extra crispy side, so her little wooden stick had been burned and broken numerous times, leaving a short twig left to use. So, we began roasting our marshmallows and trying to get them aflame, and Lauren's of course immediately bursts into a deathly flame ball of... death. And, not even joking, it falls off her wimpy little stick, right onto our hands. I screamed. This is a picture of the aftermath; observe Lauren's devious face and me cradling my slowly blistering hand: 

 Still the best day ever.