Whistling Pete

One regular evening while I (Jake) was in junior high I was talking with a girl on the cordless phone. In my possession I had a couple packs of Whistling Petes; fireworks that do nothing but whistle. I remember saying something like, "I should light one off in the house." She told me there was no way I would, so I promptly hung up and set out to prove her wrong. I figured in the downstairs shower would be the best place to light it. So I did think a little about safety, but didn't think about backing out. There are two things you don't understand about fireworks that are lit indoors. First, they are much louder inside than you would ever imagine. Second, the amount of smoke let out by a Whistling Pete is unbelievable. As soon as I set if off and made these discoveries I realized I made a bigger mistake than anticipated. I ran into Brock and Ricky's room and hid under one of their beds without explaining myself or threatening them to keep their mouths shut. Seconds later mom and dad ran down in a panic, finding the entire basement filled with smoke and a screeching that had just concluded. I can't imagine the things they thought could be happening. I know they immediately realized Brock and Ricky were innocent because they were just sitting innocently on their beds. That meant I was the only possible perpetrator. I don't recall my little brothers ratting on me like I thought they would. I gave myself up and somehow escaped any real punishment. I recall telling that girl the rest of the story the next day at school only to find that she was highly unimpressed.