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:rofl:
And thus it came to pass that, for a number of years during the 1980s, the big attraction at the annual Fourth of July picnic of the Chicagoland Corvair Enthusiasts was the Flaming Vacuum Cleaner competition. I wish you could see the videotape, because it is difficult for me, using mere words, to convey the full flavor of the event. But I will try. Each year, contestants brought vacuum cleaners, which were grouped into teams under signs denoting their brands (TEAM HOOVER, TEAM ELECTROLUX, etc.). One by one, these vacuum cleaners were brought out into the competition arena where they were introduced by an announcer over the public-address system. The vacuum cleaner nozzle would be placed in a shallow pan of gasoline. Then everybody would retreat to a safe distance, and the vacuum cleaner would be plugged in to a power source, causing the motor to start so the gasoline was being sucked in through the nozzle. Usually nothing happened for a few seconds: then there'd usually be a BANG and the vacuum cleaner would jump a few inches into the air. This always got a cheer from the crowd. Various things would happen next, depending on the vacuum cleaner,. Some models would emit a cloud of black smoke and stop running, causing the crowd to boo. But other models would send out a jet flame shooting several feet out the back for several seconds. A few hardy models kept running for several minutes: the longer they'd run the more the crowd would cheer, encouraged by the announcer. Sometimes the flames would stop and inevitably you'd hear somebody - it always sounded like the same guy, a guy who has been drinking a lot of beer - shout "MORE GAS!" Certain canister models - these were the most popular with the crowd, getting wild cheers of approval - would explode violently apart with the tops flying up and out of the camera's range of view. "The canister tops often exceeded altitudes of thirty feet." report Claypool and Parro. After each contestant was finished, it would be dragged off and dumped onto a growing, smoking mound of charred and mangled machinery, and the announcer would say something nice about it, such as, "Not bad, Electrolux Number Two!" or "Let's hear it for the Eureka!"
- From Dave Barry's Guide to Guys
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