Gotcha's getcha when you least expect them.
Such was my young technical mind that I'd worked out the wires to my microphone suffered more stress by the boom being raised. From then on I hinged it out. Hot soup arrives. Carefully handed over and all okay until I look forward. Didn't splash the radios but hooked the soup into my nether-regions. Most fluid in the cockpit was an inspired bitter lemon fire drill I carried out.