This is the story my (unidentified family member) told me when I visited last night. This is not the first time he has done something like this, so you'd think he had learned his lesson -but no.
His youngest daughter just moved out, so he's making his own "meals" now. Decides he's going to make a couple hardboiled eggs. Two inches of water and two eggs in the pot, set on high. He thinks it's going to be awhile for the eggs and opts to go to the living room, roll a joint, and take a few hits on it. Sitting there flipping through the tv channels, who knows for how long.
Next thing he knows, BANG! BANG!, and something that sounds like glass shattering.
Background: He lives deep in the hood in Toledo.
So he's like "Shit! Someone just shot up my house!" Grabs his gun and starts crawling to the kitchen, which now has smoke pouring out of it. In the kitchen: Walls, ceiling, ceiling fan and floor were covered in egg and shell. Smoke still coming out of the pot; all that was left inside the pot were two small burnt spots where the eggs sat.
He was still cleaning it when I walked in. I couldn't stop laughing. Me: "Dude it smells funny in here."