Where's this?
And how much?
But there's something about some guys who don't really heed the sirens and traffic cones and potholes and body bags and police tape on the way to score with some psycho-tang who is clearly psycho.
Look, I get wanting to hit that thing and dump it. I even get the wilder the rollercoaster, the more fun the ride.
But to light matches around a leaking kerosene tank like that is something only wypipo would do in movies. It's coming into the haunted house, seeing severed heads and blood on the walls, and thinking, "Hey, it's only for one night."