The flames are marvelous. The orange-yellow glow, the blue tip on the bottom, the heat of the flame, the ever glorious flame. I look at the cage hanging on the wall. I walk to it and see the canary. I tap on the cage with a pencil and look at the bird. I glance at the flame and then just stare into the pencil. I twirl the pencil around, noticing the details and I hold it over the flame. At first, the yellow outer layer of the pencil turned into back and suddenly a small blue spark occurs. The pencil goes into flames. I blow out the fire and examine the pencil. The yellow is black, the lead blends in and I look at the eraser which turned into a red juicy sticky substance. I drop the pencil on a piece of paper next to the typewriter. I look at the paper and decide to hold it over the flame. The white soon turns brown, and the brown turns black and the destroyer appears in it's orange yellow monstrous self. I pull the paper away from the candle's flame and watch the paper turn into ashes, which fell on the typewriter. I look into the typewriter and grab the ink ribbon from the top. I hold the tin, cylinder canister over the flame. A giant ball appears in a matter of seconds. I drop it to the ground and kick it rapidly with my shoe, frantically trying to put out the fire. I sigh as I look down at the ribbon. The scent of the burnt ink ribbon smells like tar. I cover my nose in disgust and hear cries from behind me. I turn around to find the cries from the canary in the birdcage. I look at the canary and smirk, for I have found something new to burn. I open the cage and I tightly grasp the canary before it can attempt to escape from the cage. I carry it to the desk and hold it's feathered tail over the flame. The bird tried fighting my hands by scratching and nibbling, but I kept it quiet. I watch as the bird's tail catches the flame. The pain of the heat of the flame rises on my hand. I release the canary and watch it fly frantically around the room. I laugh at it's frantic cries and movements. The tortured bird crashed into the curtain. The drapes catch the flame from the canary. The flame rushed down to the floor, where the carpet caught fire. I have just created Hell on earth, and I now I shall perish over the fire.