After a night of drinking at the bar, one of my friends decided that she was gonna make everyone perogies. I was upstairs and had no idea she was cooking until I heard a scream. I ran downstairs and there she was, with a wok on the stove and flames rising from it steadily, licking the ceiling. I yelled for another buddy to open the Juliette balcony we had next to the kitchen. I grabbed the flaming oily mess by the panhandle, trying not to spill the flaming oils as I carried it to the balcony and tossed that fucker right out onto the paved alleyway below. I burnt my hand doing so. A few burn marks were formed around our kitchen. Our house had come very close to being a fire scene because of drunken perogies. Anyway the next morning she went out and collected this misshapen, now-destroyed wok from the alleyway. I always refer to this as her wok of shame.