When Harry Eggers of Perth ran out of gas, he didn't worry. Harry didn't have any "freight" on him, but he did have his Collie credit card -- a three-foot piece of hose and a gas can. You could always get some petrol with that card.
As he approached the white Land Rover, Eggers smiled. He hadn't had to buy any gas in something like forever and tonight would be no exception. Sneaking up to the vehicle, he crouched down beside it and popped off the gas cap. Quickly and quietly, he fed the hose down into the car's fuel tank.
Eggers blew into the hose. To his surprise he felt no resistance nor heard any bubbling. He removed the hose about halfway and blew again. Still nothing. He pushed the hose as far down into the tank as it would go. Again, nothing. He had siphoned lots of Rovers and couldn't understand the problem this time.
Maybe there isn't any petrol in the tank, he thought to himself. But there had to be and Eggers didn't have all night. He pulled a small flashlight from his rear pocket and switched it on. The batteries were completely dead. Not to be discouraged, he reached his hand into his front pocket and came out with his cigarette lighter.
"Always pays to have a backup plan," he whispered to himself.
Now I don't know about you, but I think I was about five years old when I learned in school that it's not the fuel that ignites -- it's the fumes. Apparently, Eggers had skipped school that day, but he was about to learn this on his own. Eggers lit his lighter.
There was fuel in the tank after all. The ensuing explosion blew him ten feet back, removing all traces of hair from his face and head, and leaving some pretty serious second-degree burns on his hands and arms.
Oh yeah, he was arrested, too!
