A beetle fluttered forward and touched a match to her jeans. In an instant, the bundle of cloth at her feet was on fire.
Aaand that’s gonna hurt.
Nice.
She tried to pat it out, but her efforts to remove her shoes had gotten trace amounts of gasoline on her hands.
Welp.
Her right hand ignited, the insects on it dying, and she threw herself to one side to thrust it into a hole in the road where water had collected, her feet still kicking as she tried to remove her jeans.
At least this happened to her at a time where you can’t move ten feet without getting wet.
Gasoline transferred to the water’s surface and flickered with the faintest of flames.
Smoooke on the waaater! Dun dun dun, dundun dun-dun…
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