So, it’s… I’m going to guess this was the late 90s.
I’m still a kid at this point, up north of the 49th parallel in Canada, and it’s Victoria Day, which is the Canadian equivalent of Memorial Day in the states, and, so, you bet your ass, there are fireworks.
On this particular Victoria Day, we are at my second cousin’s place in another town, and, you know, we’re all sitting around the driveway. Everyone on the block is setting off their fireworks. It’s been a bust for my Uncle John by this point — a lot of damp, limp, basically dud fireworks have been going off from his driveway all evening, and he looks disappointed.
He brings out the big gun, it’s this thing called the Golden Halo. It’s a Roman Candle-style firework which shoots fireballs out of a tube, but it’s one of those big suckers you can stand up on end in your driveway, and this thing’s supposed to shoot out a whole bunch of big ass fireballs.
So, he sets it down, he lights it, and he turns — but as he turns, his foot hits the Golden Halo and knocks it over, and for a couple of terrifying seconds, it is pointed straight at us. Realizing this, Uncle John slams his foot down on the Golden Halo, and jerks it 90 degrees, so it’s pointing down the street, and shouts, “EVERYBODY GET DOWN!” just as this thing starts firing big ass fireballs down the road. Fireballs are bouncing off other people’s garage doors, they’re bouncing off of hedges, and, thankfully, because it’s still spring, not setting them alight.
It went from being potentially a very scary situation to one of the funniest moments of my life. My dad literally pissed himself laughing. I don’t think any Victoria Day has compared to that since.
GOLIKEHELLMACHINE 