There's never anything funny about a fire, except possibly in hell. Unfortunately fires occur every day and usually you can call them tragic accidents. Like when the family is huddled around the burning gas range because they have no heat or when the insufficient electrical system short circuits.
Fires in which people die are even less funny, especially those in which people who had nothing to do with the blaze's cause perish.
Like the fire the other night in an apartment in Flatbush, Brooklyn.
Unbeknownst to the neighbors (allegedly) there was a voodoo practitioner living in an apartment on the building's fourth floor. Nelson ("You can call me Pepe") Pierre took $300 from a client because she was looking for a big change in her life. That could just be a euphemism for "She wants to get laid, Pepe."
As these voodoo ceremonies sometimes go, the woman ended up in Pepe's bedroom, lying on the bed, while he lit candles surrounding it. Then they got busy and didn't notice their recently discarded clothes and the bed sheets had ignited. Pepe tried to put out the fire using water from the sink. Not smooth, Pepe. You really should have dialed 911.
Continuing the illogical thinking, Pepe's roommate who had been ironing his pants when this all happened (presumably not while he was wearing them), stopped what he was doing long enough to open the window and door, thus ensuring the fire would assume a blowtorch effect, dooming a resident on the sixth floor.
Other than the 64-year-old retired schoolteacher who died in the blaze, none of Pepe's neighbors seem to be the slightest bit upset with him despite the fact that they've been displaced and many escaped with just the clothes on their backs. Even Pepe managed to get a pair of pants on. They might even have been the ones his roommate was ironing.
Then again, maybe everyone is trying to stay on Pepe's good side. Can you imagine what he can do if he's angry?
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