Team Jib recently caught up with the rescuee from the room of doom to get his take on the situation:
TJ: DOOOOOOD, Alright bro, tell us what happened...
Rescuee: Well I was traveling downstream to pillow rapid, rocking my pfd with nothing underneath it... you know, nips out, Tao B. style... when I was distracted by a a dude with a blue helmet coming downstream on some sort of fishing vessel. In awe of the awkward, yet Graceful mode of river transport, I caught the eddy in front of the pillow in order to gawk at him.
TJ: Wow! We've been riding our sparkly fishing lures down the Upper G for years. Someone has actually started riding fishing boats down gorge?
Rescuee: Oh ya, people are using these fishing platforms in all sorts of arenas these days. I guess it helps with the hemorrhoids brought on by years of hitting too many rocks while navigating whitewater in kayaks.
TJ: Ahhhhh. The sport grows, the styles change, and new needs develop. I even heard that Jacksin is offering a diaper insert for there new "crappy-ass" outfitting! Anyhow, we digress. What happened next?
Rescuee: After everyone on the rock got done pouring beers on me and asking if I saw some fat chick that their friend was "camping" with the night before, they threw a rope at me. Well, I got all tangled up and was forced to exit my boat. So I grabbed the rope and tried to pull them all into the water with me. As I was yanking on the rope, this one guy yelled "leave a man behind!", whipped "it" out and started peeing all over the place. Everyone was like, "What the hell!?" and, "Where is that coming from!?". It was as if Moses had struck the rock and piss was flowing from, seemingly, nothing! I think it was a miracle of sorts.
TJ: Well Rescuee, luckily for us, the paparazzi was there to capture all the action on film! From what our photo analysts can tell; you're right! The piss was emanating from nothing! Or at least something so small, that physicists will have to lump it in that grab bag of philononscientifical goodies that includes subatomic particles, superstrings, and nanopeters. Do I smell a nobel prize...?
Rescuee: Actually, later that night, at the G-fest, I was jammin out to some sweet Billy Idol tunes, eyes closed, head swaying, when I overheard a conversation from the adjacent campfire. This guy was like, "Ya, I saved that turds life! He was stuffing himself like a fatty at the Golden Corral. Totally sick!" Some other douche was like "Whatever dude, I peeed all over that flounder! He was bottom feeding with the sea-snails from the put-in. He needed my warm salty shower to wake him up! AhAhahahHAHAHAHhhaha!" Just then, the lights went out and the music stopped. I saw the pisser running from a bunch of guys standing around kicking some jackass on the ground. I heard him as he ran, "Oh shit, Rodson did it! He's getting pummeled, RUN!"
TJ: Damn, what night. So you think you could identify the mystery pisser?
Rescuee: OH, FO SHO! Just before I was blinded by splish-splash of pee pee in my eyes, our gazes met. It was most certainly William Lunching. I'd seen him before on those internet, beat-down vids those guys at Shred Really do. You know, the Harry Potter thing. Plus, he showed his teeny peeny to the whole festival the night before! How could I forget?...
TJ: Well, there you go. You win some. You lose some. Drink your booty-brew, son.
