[NOTE:] In a stroke of literary genius 
It was a typical Friday or Saturday night and The Kid was doing what he and his buddies usually did on such a night...hitting Fathers for happy hour and either hanging out there or going elsewhere to party. The Kid was staying there. Fathers was on Mass Ave about halfway between Central Square and MIT. Central Sq. was Cambridge's blue-collar neighborhood and MIT, as it had always been, was a Nerd sanctuary. The clientele of Fathers was of course, a mixed bag. In the back was a bumper-pool table where the Bumper-Pool Nerd King held court.
The Bumper-Pool Nerd King never lost, in fact, he rarely missed a shot. Inevitably, someone would challenge him to a game and of course lose and then want to fight. The "regulars" would always stick up for him, being that he was a Nerd after all. It was ridiculous...like challenging Tiger Woods to a game of golf and then getting pissed when he beat you. But, he wasn't the Flaming Nerd, so the story isn't about him.
Ronnie Perry, The Pearl showed up on this particular night with a Nerd in tow. He wasn't The Flaming Nerd at this point, just a Regular Nerd, you know, bad haircut, thick glasses, acne and a plaid sport coat of some indeterminate synthetic fabric that, as it turned out, was also extremely flammable. The Pearl, it should be pointed out wasn't a Nerd at all. That's what made it so unusual for him to show up with this particular guy. The Pearl was tall and blonde with a great tan. He was on The Kid's softball team, but spent his days as the teaching pro at Longwood Racket Club helping rich Jewish girls improve their backhand stroke. They in turn helped The Pearl improve his stroke which translated into enormous tips. The Pearl was a handsome guy that was very popular with the ladies, which made his association with The Nerd even more unusual.
Well, The Pearl and The Nerd were at the bar when The Kid joined them. They took turns buying pitchers and after about three or four, The Kid got the idea for a great practical joke. Back in these days, Bic lighters were adjustable. The Kid figured that he would turn up the flame and hold it under The Nerd's hand and see how long it took for him to feel the heat. The Kid flicked his Bic and The Nerd burst into flames like a Buddhist Monk at an anti-war protest. At first everybody was too shocked to move. Then The Kid and The Pearl pulled the burning jacket off The Nerd and stomped it out. He had gone from The Regular Nerd, to The Flaming Nerd, and finally to The Angry Nerd. The Flaming Nerd recovered the remnants of his jacket and stomped out of Fathers. The Pearl and The Kid had a couple of pitchers and took The Pearl's classic MGA to the Roller Disco in Kenmore Square.
Oddly enough, a few years later when The Kid was at Jacks, a strange guy walked in and asked, "Remember me?" The Kid looked and shook his head. "You lit me on fire a few years ago." It was The Nerd. They had a drink and a good laugh.