As Dear Uncle Cooper ran about the room trying to put out the flames on his body he was,(in his haste), devoid of any rational movments. He bumped into and knocked over anything that was free standing in his house. So before the fire consumed the structure, the damage was already devasting. So many momentoes of the psuedo well lived life were gone in a moments passing. Artifacts from trips abroad, printings from his bookings, and of course the dear little trinkets that had been heaped upon him in lieu of cash payment by so many that he had done small portraits for.