Munch's story reminded me of a similar incident, but on a grander scale. On my grandad's farm there was an orchard, and every year they would prepare a barrel of cider for the use of the temporary help during haymaking and hop-picking (when those activities were less mechanised). Well, one night in 1971, a barrel that had been slowly fermenting for years (because the mechanisation started in the 60's so the cider wasn't drunk so much), a 250-gallon barrel exploded. It probably wasn't full, but there was apparently cider all over the place and the hens, who were in coops not far away, got a fright and a few died (roast chicken for a few days thereafter), and the living ones when let out in the morning proceeded to get falling-over drunk!