Well if its too late I apologise however I do have a storage disaster story that is totally different it seems to what anyone else has written and it involves a 2nd hand shed (.... Nowhere does it say this has to be computer related)
My cousin, god love him, in his infinit wisdom and desperation to repair, reuse, recycle had purchased through his contacts at work a rather heavy duty, old garden shed that was in surprisingly good nick. Now we're not talking about the typical fragile flimsy rubbish you seem to get from B&Q or Argos these days; no this was a solid timber monster. My cousin gleefully picked me up in his van, drunk at the thought of all the things he could do inside his impressive new man cave but neglecting to impart what would have been some critical, need to know information. Firstly that the owner of said shed had been extraordinarily security concious and had died without letting his brother know where the blasted key was for the padlocks, yes plural.
After about half an hour of helping this chap and my cousin search for the illusive keys we decided that the only thing for it was the use of my cousins extensive and highly impressive tool kit.... After breaking the blade on his cutter he discovered that the locks where infact from motorbikes and didn't fancy trying to cut through them for hours. So we tried the hinges and clips for the pad locks... oh no, he'd used blasted araldite to fix the screws in, oh and longer screws than where required so they could be bent on the inside of the wood preventing their removal.
Next came the attempt at sheer brute strength along with two very large crowbars and some very strong hammers, our new plan, break the stuffing clips or hinges even if it meant damaging the shed, hey he could replace the bits needed. The hinges themselves had too little purchase to get behind but ah ha.... we got the crow bar behind the padlock clip my cousin began wrestling with it, Thwackkkkk "arrrrrrrrrrrrrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" as the crowbar slipped and some how homed in on his testicles.....
After much crying on his part and much laughing on my part we decided to tackle the entire front panel of the shed itself we managed to make some progress. The panel as heavy as it was began to be prized free, a surprising oversight for such a security concious psychopath, as we began slowly lowering the beast down, neither me nor my cousin or the guy who was selling us the shed noticed the taught piece of wire attached to the inside..... about a 3rd of the way down.... BANG!! A bright flash, a ringing certainly in my ears followed by the sharp stinging sensation the wire and the firing pin gave me when it wrapped around my legs... fortunately my cousin and I managed to step clear of the falling panel, the guy was not so lucky with it landing on his foot bringing forth language that would make russian sailors blush. What it turned out to be was a wire connected to spring loaded contraption resembling the inner workings of a shot gun, the cartridge fortunately being a blank none the less scared the crap out of us.
Having seen to our battle wounds, fortunately no breaks we sat dumbfounded and bemused at which point que the blokes wife coming home from god knows where and asking us why we hadn't just grabbed the keys of the side in the kitchen...
What warranted all that protection you might ask, nothing more than a selection of your usual garden cack old people tend to keep. While the rest of the dismantling went to plan... I couldn't help but smile the following day when I let my cousins attempts at phoning me up for further assistance in putting that blasted shed up ring through to voicemail that I never check. lol