Stranded man survives off of toner and ink cartridges
on 6/25/2004 (5)
Doug Butterfill recently survived a thirty-hour crisis, trapped deep in the forests of Oregon with nothing to survive on but his less than adequate supply of wits and dozens of ink and toner cartridges.
|Can you imagine having to live off of this? Yeah, me too. |
“It started off a pretty typical day,” Doug said. “I got up, I brushed my teeth, sat in a chair for a little while pretending my wife hadn’t left me to pursue her dream of not being married to a total failure.”
At a quarter to nine, Doug left for work at the Oregon National Toner Disposal Company. Here he is responsible for taking truckloads of used toner and ink cartridges and dumping them in secluded forest areas.
“I love my job, everyday I get to destroy the environment, a cruel environment that has spited mankind since we set foot here nearly a hundred years ago” commented Doug, speaking about the job in which he illegally disposes of thousands of cartridges weekly, causing irreparable damage to forests, rivers, and wildlife. His company is currently being investigated by multiple environmental agencies and will likely be shut down in the coming weeks for it’s illegal disposal of hazardous materials.
Doug was making one of his many deliveries deep into the wilderness when disaster struck in the most likely of ways.
“I was out in the middle of no where, which is the perfect place to dispose of my goods,” said Doug. “But when I got a flat tire, I had no one to turn to for help.”
While a normal man would be able to simply change a tire and go on with his business, Doug was far less than a normal man. Besides having a crippling fear of lug nuts, Doug was never blessed with the mental aptitude to do something as difficult as changing a tire; he was barely intelligent enough to operate the shovel he used to dispose of the cartridges in his truck.
“I forget which end to use sometimes,” said Doug of his shovel, Shovely McDig.
After spending nearly twenty minutes in the wilderness alone, hunger and fear set in.
“I was starving, I hadn’t eaten for minutes,” said Doug. “I was scared too, I had heard rumors that lions and tigers and bears roam these woods. Oh my!”
Doug feared being mauled by real and fictitious animal alike if he left his truck, but he knew he couldn’t survive for long without food or water.
“After about an hour, I was so hungry that I became delusional,” said Doug. “I spent the next hour or two having a heated argument about the validity of Pez as the new nation currency with what appeared to be either a lawn chair or Mickey Rooney.”
Four hours into the ordeal, Doug was near death. “I’m so cold,” he probably said. Doug was exhausted, hungry, and still a moron. That is when he had an idea, perhaps the first of his life.
“I’ve eaten and drank most of my life, I felt pretty strongly that it was something that I had to do, I couldn’t go much longer without,” he said. “That’s when I realized what I had in the truck.”