A.K.A. Fire Hazard
That gleam in Eric's eye tells of something gone quite wrong. Was it CRT radiation? Licking batteries as a child? A circuit's been shorted; something's been fused. This mild-mannered computer engineer has been mutayted.
Do you smell something burning?
The Fire Hazard moves faster than the eye can see. Gymnast, aerialist, fire percussionist; he's burning through fuel without regard for physics, personal safety, or the price of oil.
When he's suspended by his ankles from a crane three stories in the air with two burning wicks solidly chained to one hand, two things become abundantly clear: blood goes down, and fire goes up. But nothing can compare to the adrenaline rush, the sudden surplus of blood in the brain, the fire licking at his eyebrows. Oddly, in this state, Eric achieves a certain clarity of thought: "What have I gotten myself into?"