The super-spark landed in the grass, which burst into flames. "It's OK," Aggie surely thought, "it's just some grass."

Then it spread to the bushes.

"Only a few bushes, surely somebody will get a fire extinguisher out here and everything will be fine," Aggie rationalized.

Cut to a few minutes later and ...

Shady Canyon Golf Club
"Play through?"

By noon, the fire had spread to over 12 acres. Luckily, nobody was hurt, but it took over 200 firefighters just to control the damage from one errant swing. Look, we're no golf experts over here, but we feel fairly confident in saying this: Aggie, whoever you are, you have played the worst hole of golf in all of human history, spanning back to the birth of mankind and forward to its demise.

You mark that shit at least a double bogey.

Maintenance was being performed on Condensate Pump A. The pump needed repairs, and the safety valve had been taken off (the safety valve being the thing that ensures giant explosions do not occur; that's some subtle foreshadowing right there). The workers needed to turn in for the night, so an engineer filled out a form explaining that the valve was off, and under no circumstances should gas be pumped until it was fixed.

But the night custodian was busy (which, because we've known a few night custodians in our day, we presume was a euphemism for "furiously masturbating"). So the engineer simply left the form on a desk and headed home. The next shift arrived, rolled their eyes at the strangely flustered night custodian who tried to explain that he was "just doing a bunch of jumping jacks when his pants fell down," and then got to work pumping gas. With no safety valve.

via Exponent.com
Attempts to pretend nothing had gone wrong proved unsuccessful.

It's the setup for a few dozen episodes of The Office: Somebody hilariously misfiled some paperwork, and now corporate is coming down to audit! Only in this case, one misplaced form caused billions of dollars of damage and killed 167 workers on board.

So the moral here is: You get your god damn TPS reports in on time, buddy.

Feel free to bookmark this article for the next time your wife, mother, or strangely familiar co-worker asks for perfume on their birthday. You will be entirely justified in slapping that bottle out of their hands and screaming, "My God! Are you trying to kill us all?"

It's not just perfume, however -- sinister sunlight will use any means possible to murder us in our homes. Dog bowls, crystal balls, and even our benignly nerdy friend the telescope have all started house fires.

Purestock/Purestock/Getty Images
So never combine a dog bowl, a crystal ball, and a telescope (unless, again, your demon shrine needs them).

Here's some security footage of a liquor store display seemingly spontaneously bursting into flames after vodka bottles focused sunlight on the cardboard stand. The location of that liquor store? Burnsville, Minnesota.

Nothing is an accident. The sun is in on it. This article posts at 5 a.m. -- warn your family before dayli-

For almost 90 minutes, Nasdaq was without the system. Investors panicked. The outage kept 20 million shares from being traded that day. They ended up losing $7 million worth of trading before power was restored. Fingers were pointed, blame was laid -- was it the Russians, some sort of electronic cyberhacker, or Gary, the inept intern, tripping over a power cable?

Nope: It was all the fault of one happy, curious little squirrel who had found a piece of aluminum foil that was just too damn shiny to pass up. Our little squirrel friend carried it up a utility pole and ran across a power line that, among other things, made possible all of the trading for Nasdaq. The aluminum touched the line, and our squirrel friend was no more.

alblec/iStock/Getty Images
If only he'd found and choked on plastic, like a normal squirrel.

Or perhaps we are wildly misgauging his fuzzy little intentions. After all, if he was some sort of squirrel super-terrorist, he had just unquestionably struck the largest rodent-based blow against humanity this side of the bubonic plague.

Oh, we know it was the fleas that actually spread the plague. But who do you think gave those fleas their marching orders, hmm?