In Which I Reduce My Body To Charred Remains...Almost

Today I was going to make chicken on the grill. I went out side, turned the propane on, opened the valves, and lit a match to light it. (The bottom of the grill is so full of charred remains of meat; it's too clogged or something.) Anyway, the match wouldn't light right away. I got it on the third try. Third try is the charm, right? I hate that saying... I tossed the match into the grill and WHOOMPH! A gargantuan amount of flame flew into my face. I shielded my face with my arm and stepped backwards. After the flames died down in about one nanosecond, I quickly checked my hair to make sure it was still there. It was. But then I smelled the stench of frizzled and fried hair. All the eensy weensy hairs on my arm are reduced to a half a millimeter. My mom told me to pray next time I start the grill. The End.