Boy Scout Camp, 1962, and I'm on the staff.

Hank shot a black powder rifle, and had decided to make his own gunpowder for it from the old saltpeter, sulphur & charcoal recipe. Well, it worked right enough, but it was very, very, very dirty in burning, so Hank went back to the store bought stuff.

Still, he had a quart of the homebrewed stuff. Naturally, he took it to Boy Scout Camp where he, too, was on the staff that summer.

Now, the latrines were, well, two holers with a nice metal trough for a urinal. Concrete block in construction, they were vented around the top edge with screening to take the edge off the pervasive odor.

So Hank and couple of other guys (all of whom shall remain nameless) poured the quart of black powder into the urinal trough and ran two wires from the trough out to an old crank-type magneto. The three guys then retired to await a visitor to the latrine.

Along comes a young Tenderfoot scout, looking like a cross between a stereotypical birdwatcher and a gawky colt. His luncheon of beans and franks had obviously grabbed him in most disquieting way, and he was unbuckling the Boy Scout Belt that held up his Boy Scout Shorts as he opened the door.

Pause for 20 seconds.

Crank.

A sudden FUFF!! from inside the latrine and a cloud of grayish smoke filters from the screening just below the roof, achieving a very nice mushroom cloud effect.

The Tenderfoot stumbles out the door, his Boy Scout Shorts around his Boy Scout Knee Socks, saying repeatedly, "The latrine blew up!"

Three staff members quickly gather in about 50 feet of wire and make for the hills....