We don't know what's going on with the institution of animal-staffed fire houses, but something's not right. If it's not sexual shenanigans, it's blatant conflicts of interests such as those on display at this firehouse.
You can imagine how it plays out: The alarm rings. The firefighters spring into action, stepping into boots, grabbing hats from hooks, and climbing aboard the trucks. The firehouse door rises, and the trucks scream into the streets.
The firefighters race to fulfill their oaths, to face danger and destruction in the name of protecting the lives and… property of…
Hang on.
These pigs are in the game for something else entirely! All their equipment, all their training, all their tireless labor—they're not out to preserve. They're out to destroy! When fire strikes at security and safety, they see it as an opportunity not to protect, or even to snatch the garment of prideful heroism, but instead to cook pigs! No doubt they will fling themselves upon the burning eaves and smoking rafters. So off they charge, ribs held aloft in valorous imitation of Perseus holding high the writhing head of Medusa!
Beware, unlucky homeowners. You might be better off with a hose and some friends with buckets.
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