When I first married my second husband, I had an apartment size stove. The potatoes that were cooking on the back burner boiled over into the cast iron skillet full of frying chicken. The grease splattered, and I had flames three feet high on the stove.
In a very stupid move, I turned the pot of boiling potatoes over the burning skillet on the electric stove, and left it there while I turned everything off.
I guess I was very lucky, but my daddy really gave me a good talking to over that. He said I could have gotten electrocuted.