When I was a boy in Mississippi, I used to help out on the farm by pouring gasoline on fire-ant beds and putting them to light...like an atomic explosion.
Then there was the day the ant bed was on top of a red clay bank along a ditch. I stood in the ditch and poured the gas on the ant bed at about chest level. It took me awhile to find my kitchen matches. When I finally lit and threw the burning match at the ant bed the gas fumes where now all around my feet. I never was a fast runner but my dad swore he saw flames coming off my heels as I rounded the house headed for the garden hose.
David