Yup, fires, explosives, and decaying/stinky stuff are my favorite hobbies.
I just LOVVVE that stuff
My favorite non-lethal weapon/prank is the concentrated, putrescine/cadaverine rich stink molotov.
I torched our house when recreationally rotating red hot Aluminum wool over my head violently.
When you do that, red hot sparks shoot in all directions, making a fantastic fireworks show.
Unfortunately, I was 4 years old, and didn't know the carpet and window covers will be set on fire upon doing the show indoors.
I was home alone that day, locked in house, because I was so trouble making they didn't like the idea of me wandering around the block when they were gone.
I got bored, and found some aluminum wool which mom used to wash dishes.
I remembered the scene I just had seen 2 months ago in the ancient Persian annual crazy fireworks ceremony, where a badass 20yo dude was doing it in the street, and all people were keeping their distance and watching him in awe like he was a hero.
I said OK, here's the wool and matches, let's play!
I did that and sparks began spreading everywhere, causing a systemic fire impossible for me to suppress, there was fire in every corner around me.
The dining room was torched and I managed to go into the toilet because I knew there was a powerful water hose (but didn't knew anything about ventilation back then, which the toilet had two big in/out fans! one sucking dirty air out, while another pulling fresh air inside from the special canal coming from rooftop).
Anyway, I kept calling neighbors, and to my luck, the toilet ventilation canal was shared between different floors, thus they called the fire department, but the neighbors didn't dare to break the door and rescue me, fearing they would be asked to pay for the door later.
Anyway, fire dept came, rescued me, and put off the fire.
When I told the story to the firedept captain, he totally got suspicious of my mental health, thinking I'm kinda retarded to do such an obviously dangerous stuff.
Almost all of our appliances, and the entire furniture, plus the wall painting, was burned pretty well.
Dad kept me on the floor, sat on my chest, locked my arms under his legs, and slap me 40 times.
He locked my arms because I used to block slaps using my hands.
Anyway, later it was proven that 40 slaps was not enough, I kept doing unusual stuff, I was just crazy and they got used to it eventually.
Some years later I shot a hay barn while at a vacation using the bow and fire arrows I just had made, inspired by western Apache movies.
I was just testing the stuff to see its effectiveness
I voluntarily admitted the deed when heard hay isn't useless trash, but valuable livestock food.
Dad paid all the damage costs, and forced me to eat an entire bulb of raw garlic.
I'm absolutely sorry about the actions I did in childhood.
But before that happened, I shot the fire arrows indoors.
After just building the stuff, I went into parent's bedroom, jumped on the bed and bounced crazy like a mad Indian before shooting 3 fire arrows to the ceiling. (was locked in home again, just made the bow, and was eager to test it ASAP).
Next morning, mom woke-up screaming and running around crazy.
Poor woman thought the black arrow impact marks were big venomous spiders.
Both mom and dad said they believed in talking to kids for teaching them manners, and using non-violent punishments.
But after I was born, their minds was changed...