It happened one afternoon during the first semester. I came home from college, put two slices of bread in the toaster and went to the bathroom. When I got back to the shared kitchen, there was smoke everywhere. I mentally pulled the plug of the burning toaster and extinguished it with a wet cloth.
To air it out, I placed our knife block in the window frame. When I wanted to close the windows again, I knocked the block over.
I still got hold of two knives, but the stainless steel butcher's knife fell out - we live on the fifth floor above the pedestrian zone. I fell barefoot and met a customs officer who shouted at me: the knife had fallen at his feet, he threatened to press charges. The man held me down until the police came. My charred toaster convinced the cops I was innocent. I got off without charges. They let me keep our knife, too.