We picked up some fireworks on the way through Georgia and thought we'd put them to good use on the beach. Our cab driver (not the one named Yoda -- no I'm not kidding) let us know that fireworks + beach = jail, along with suggestions on how to use an M80 to deter would-be home invaders. Anyway, we did the obligatory sparkler writing, followed by Matt's fire dancing, and finally decided to appease the natives and set me on fire with 30 feet of fuse ... check out the pics below!
