2019-2069 a boy named Craig (five piece)

Craig blacked out. It was the butane. You could be the ultimate survivalist, tough as nails with moxy. But turning that blue flame on your own skin could knock out the toughest man, or woman. There was coagulation and early scabbing. But Craig could not take chances with sepsis or rabies. He wouldn't know if the cat was rabid, until he got to the CDC. If he survived, as a scrapper of used metals, he would need the use of both his hands. He would need something to bite down, so he wouldn't swallow his own tongue. And he just remembered his tin flask of Knob Creek, vintage by now and increased proof due to aging. He hadn't used it in awhile. Blue fame against skin was not lighting a match, watching the stick burn down to your fingertips, thenouch! Let it go. It was more the reverse psychology to the brain, that 500° Farenheit felt cold. He may have lasted 2 1/2 seconds..felt like 2 1/2 minutes. Craig lost consciousness. When he came to, there was a Cassawary feeding on ripe Elderberries the length of a tree's shadow away from where he lay.