Satire
Nutella Nightmare: 900lb Man Sinks in Mud Pit, 50 Chiefs Mobilize Epic Extraction
Petrina here live from the scene of the gnarliest rescue since the great spaghetti incident of '22. A 900-pound gentleman mistook a mud pit for a giant vat of Nutella, requiring eight engines, two trucks, and a chief parade to haul him out.
6 days ago
Chud Johnson News Staff
Dateline: Muddy Meadows – In a sticky situation that's got the entire department buzzing, local resident Big Al tumbled into what he swore was a 'sweet spread surprise' yesterday afternoon. Eyewitnesses report Al, weighing in at a hefty 900 pounds, spotted the glistening mud pit during a backyard stroll and dove in headfirst, yelling 'Dessert time!' It took firefighters from three stations, eight engines, two ladder trucks, and approximately 50 chiefs – yes, fifty – to orchestrate the great unstuckening.
Captain Randy 'Sticky Fingers' Malone of Engine 7 led the charge, deploying every probie on shift for the initial tug-of-war. 'We tried the standard pull with ropes and struts, but this guy was embedded like a turntable in concrete,' Malone recounted. 'Probie Jenkins suggested we slather him with more mud to lubricate, but we opted for the foam cannon instead – turned the pit into a giant bubble bath.' Sources say B-shift arrived fashionably late, apparatus gleaming, only to find A-shift had already called in the aerial ladder for a high-angle extraction.
Chief overload was the real hero of the day, with Battalion Chief Sheila Vargas explaining the command structure: 'We had one chief per engine, plus extras for traffic control, media ops, and coffee runs. Safety first – never send fewer than 48 to a mud op.' Probie Jenkins, covered head-to-toe in muck, added, 'I hazed myself volunteering for the winch detail. Next time, I'm sticking to kitchen fires.'
After four hours of rigging, pumping, and one ill-fated attempt to 'flavor' the mud with station syrup, Big Al emerged victorious, demanding a hazelnut chaser. No injuries reported, though dispatchers logged it as the longest tone-out since the infamous cat-in-tree marathon. Stay tuned for B-shift's exclusive: 'Why We Need More Ladders.'
Petrina out – smelling like victory and wet earth.
Captain Randy 'Sticky Fingers' Malone of Engine 7 led the charge, deploying every probie on shift for the initial tug-of-war. 'We tried the standard pull with ropes and struts, but this guy was embedded like a turntable in concrete,' Malone recounted. 'Probie Jenkins suggested we slather him with more mud to lubricate, but we opted for the foam cannon instead – turned the pit into a giant bubble bath.' Sources say B-shift arrived fashionably late, apparatus gleaming, only to find A-shift had already called in the aerial ladder for a high-angle extraction.
Chief overload was the real hero of the day, with Battalion Chief Sheila Vargas explaining the command structure: 'We had one chief per engine, plus extras for traffic control, media ops, and coffee runs. Safety first – never send fewer than 48 to a mud op.' Probie Jenkins, covered head-to-toe in muck, added, 'I hazed myself volunteering for the winch detail. Next time, I'm sticking to kitchen fires.'
After four hours of rigging, pumping, and one ill-fated attempt to 'flavor' the mud with station syrup, Big Al emerged victorious, demanding a hazelnut chaser. No injuries reported, though dispatchers logged it as the longest tone-out since the infamous cat-in-tree marathon. Stay tuned for B-shift's exclusive: 'Why We Need More Ladders.'
Petrina out – smelling like victory and wet earth.
Disclaimer: This article is satire. All content is fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is purely coincidental and hilarious.