Ha! When I was a young 'elite athlete' (like Dayvo) and playing cricket with a bunch of old soaks, who insisted on 'rehydrating' me to the max after every game, I returned to my parent's home late one Saturday evening /early Sunday maybe

Feeling peckish, I opted for something simple, so I got a pan of water and placed a tin of ravioli within. The idea was to bring the water to boiling point and let it cook the contents of the tin, then open carefully.
"What the bloody hell do you think you are doing boy?" It was my Dad... he never, ever shouted at me.
But he was now. I had simply fallen asleep (10 pints to the good I should think) and the pan had boiled dry. The ravioli had cooked a treat - and more. Apparently there was this huge explosion, which I had slept through, and the saucepan was wrecked. The boiled dry tin, in the boiled dry pan obviously did its own 'pressure release thing' and projected the ravioli upwards and embedded it into the ceiling - all over the place! The gas stove was a New World something or other, which had parallel stainless steel bars as pan supports. all these in the vicinity of the pan were dislodged and fell onto the floor. The floor was red quarry tiles which was handy. Not so handy was the dandycord plastic mat which covered them. The rods being red hot, mingled with the PVC in fine style!
A right mess. And all I did was get out of my chair and go to bed. It probably took my Dad a few weeks to repair and cover the ceiling in spiky textured finish - he was worried about the council coming around and seeing a mess!

Sorry Dad.