For all the faith put in this triage system, some burned victims are forced to go to the hospital, claiming that the beer remedy puts out the actual blaze, but does little to relieve the burning. VT obtained the following interview from the hospital room of the Flammable Flatulator:
VT: Can you please tell us what happened?
FF: Well, I ordered the Salvo soup and started to chow down. I definitely felt something sliding down my tongue, but tasted nothing but pain.
VT: The food had no taste?
FF: No. Well, if you're gonna be picky about it, it did kind of feel like I had been snorting turpentine, but that was just in my nose. My mouth had more of a cleaning fluid taste in it.
VT: How did you deal with that?
FF: Well, after the first sip, I bolted off to the beer line waving off 2 doctors who tried to give me the Heimlich maneuver. One quick fire-belch cleared out those sissy boys in the beer line with the flaming ears and I was at the front of the queue. I slammed down a 1,000 baht bill on the bar and they started pouring Singha on my tongue. When the ringing in my ears stopped, I went back to my table.
VT: You went back for more?
FF: I'm not like those other nancy-boys. If the Thais can eat this sh!t, then so can I.
VT: What happened next?
FF: As soon as I was able to regain the focus back in the eyes, I started slurping that stuff again. At this point, you could have fired a shotgun into my mouth and I would not have felt it. Strangely, it didn't feel like snorting turpentine anymore. This time, it was more like diesel fluid. Then I took a third spoonful.
VT: Holy sh!t! You had more?
FF: I thought I could handle it, then I felt this gaseous mass rising from my stomach. It was like those lava flows you see on the Discovery channel, y'know? I knew I was in trouble but when I looked over to the next table for help, I noticed the man's head was on fire. Then, I felt myself being propelled forward (hearing the blast 2 seconds later) and the next thing I know, I'm here in a hospital room.
VT: Oh my Buddha! Why didn't you take their offer of the safety seat?
FF: They're such a pain in the ass. You're all strapped in and by the time you get out of the blasted thing, the beer line is already out the door!
VT: Are you going to be OK?
FF: Well, I can't breathe through my windpipe anymore, but I think that won't be a problem since I get plenty of oxygen from the fire-hole in my ass. At some point and without my knowledge, the soup slid out of my mouth and burned my clothing clean off, leaving me with second-degree burns. I think I'll be OK, but I wish I could turn off the sound of boiling water in my head....