Dean Parkinson wasn't very smart. At age 11 he smoked in order to deliberately stunt his growth, because he wanted to be a jockey - that kind of not very smart. One day in Year 7 Chemistry he had a firecracker and his lighter, and was seeing just how close he could get the flame to the wick before it would light. An admirable experiment conducted by a scientific mind, but one with only one final outcome: he did find out how close the flame had to be, and the wick began to spark. Only then did Dean realise that you can't really let off firecrackers in the middle of class without the teacher noticing. In a panic, Dean quickly shoved the cracker inside his school blazer and wrapped his arms across his chest. Three seconds later he was jolting and jumping in his seat, accompanied by a loud fizzing, whooshing noise. After enduring a few seconds of unpleasantness, he opened his blazer and the cracker fizzed and sputtered across the room. The last I remember was a gently smouldering Dean being led away by a rather cranky Chemistry teacher.

Oh, he also once stuck a metal ruler inside the ventilation grid of an overhead projector while the teacher found the next slide. An amazing crunchy clank as the fan ground to a halt, followed by billowing black smoke, and the teacher revised his decision to keep Dean at the front of the room to keep an eye on him.