I lived in a top floor Maisonette once, there was a big fat woman who lived downstairs with 4 kids from different fathers. The kids were aged 2 to 12
One night I could smell burning, the next thing the 12 year old kid is knocking my door down, saying there's a fire downstairs. i ran down there in just my jeans, entered the house, saw smoke coming from a bedroom, which was locked, so I kicked the door in where 2 nippers had made a fire, got them outside, went to the kitchen and filled the bowl up which was taking ages, until I realised it was a strainer, checked the place was empty then went outside and waited for the fire brigade.
Then my son mentions his rabbit on the balcony so I climb the balcony and rescue the rabbit too.
The mother of the 4 kids I later found out was down the pub while the kids were torching the place, she got back when the Local press and Fire Brigade were there and told them she had popped to the shop.
I didn't talk to the press that night, but the next day in the Local Rag is a picture of the 12 year old with the words Hero and mentioning how he saved his brother and sister from the fire.