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When I was 13 or 14, I used to hang around an abandoned quarry. One day, some drunk guy comes over to me and starts yelling at me for being on his property (it wasn't, owned by the state now). I walked away to find a new spot several times, but he kept finding me and yelling. I told him to fuck off and he started running/stumbling towards me. I lit and threw a firecracker at his feet, which probably startled him, because he lost his balance and went over the edge of the quarry. I didn't stick around to find out if he was still alive. It was a big drop, but he definitely landed in the water, so he probably lived. Drunk guy, if you're dead I'm sorry, if you're alive, then go fuck yourself.
