In today’s news: GROWN MAN CAN’T GET OUT OF A SWING.
We’ve all done things that we regret, haven’t we? We’ve all tried to push the very boundaries of our physical existence in the name of ‘banter’ or whatever you want to call it, we have all, every single one us, walked past a child’s play area and had to fight that unstoppable, organic urge to run over to the monkey bars, to try and totter across the seesaw, to slide down the slide.
The one thing we must refrain from, however, is the one thing most appealing. It is the swing-set, and more specifically, the child’s swing-set, with its rubberised safety seat a.k.a the most dangerous flytrap known to man.
First SNT job of the day, young male trapped in swing! Job for @SuffolkFire No injuries, no damage to swing but a very grateful & embarrassed male! pic.twitter.com/b2MZCBFbir
— Felixstowe & Woodbridge Police (@FelixWoodPolice) May 23, 2018
Whatever you do, don’t get in it. Do not get in it. Do not try and get in it because you will quickly realise you are too large, you are far too large for the tight confines of the seat, designed, remember, for children. For small children. Do not realise this and then boldly push forward anyway, the Christopher Columbus of the child’s play arena, to go where no man should go, and have your big meaty thighs wedged between some hot rubber slowly getting hotter. Do not do it.
This man did.
Is there a sadder sight? Is there a sadder, more human sight than this, the weary policeman who has seen it a thousand times, analysing the sheer girth of this young, stupid, beautiful man wedged into the seat like a hand in a Pringles can?
Look at him, this wonderful fool, with his hat on backwards and shoulder pads on his coat, for some reason, just gazing off into the distance, as though this was completely normal, while an actual officer of the law has to concoct a way of getting his body free so he doesn’t stay there, trapped forever, and die of starvation, on a child’s swing-set?
The 20-year-old, of course he was 20, had been sat there for three hours before Ipswich police were called to Landseer Park at 07:50 in the morning.
Imagine that, jumping into the swing at around 5am, still drunk, then getting stuck and having to sit there in the dark, slowly sobering up, wondering how exactly your life had all built up to this moment.
The police officer, unsurprisingly, couldn’t free the man alone, and the fire service had to be called to come and take apart the seat itself. They had to deconstruct the apparatus, that’s how badly he was stuck. This wasn’t a quick lube him up with butter and watch him slide out like a deflating party balloon job.
And then, just like that, it was all over, the ordeal finished. “Thank you, Mr.Fireman, for spending your morning unleashing a slightly chunky bloke from a swing. Thank you so much. Can we have a picture like I am signing for a football team?”
“This is the fourth time this week. I swear to god if you do this again I will leave you here to die. I’m not joking.”
