I wanted to create fire.
At first I thought about using the method my grandpa used—drink petrol and then fart. If it's gas, it's fire, if it's liquid, congratulations, you got your petrol back.
But fortunately, I didn't have petrol right now so I looked around.
I couldn't see anything to use so I went all ancient and rubbed two stones against each other like lesbians do scissors.
The stone only produced sparks, sounds, and music ideas for Charlie Puth, no real fire.
I didn't had much time so after the ancient way, I went all looney toons and rubbed a stone on the bald head of the guard squirming in pain beside me.
And guess what? That produced fire.
The fire torch was lit again and since I was holding it, I was also exposed because of the light like a fat boyfriend of a wife getting exposed because of the small space in the closet.
Johnson and the other guards finally saw me and the first thought of Johnson after seeing me was:
"You are just my fucking typeee!!"
