Custodial Breakfast Burrito Bust Blamed for Gas Scare at Tech High (Satire)

In a twist that’s left noses wrinkled and stomachs rumbling, Washington County Technical High School’s mysterious gas odor has been pinned on an unlikely culprit: a covert bean breakfast burrito operation run by the school’s custodial staff in a maintenance closet. The revelation comes after weeks of speculation, evacuations, and a fire department investigation that sniffed out everything but the truth—until now.

The saga began when students and staff reported a pungent odor wafting through the halls, prompting swift evacuations and a flurry of concern from parents. Initially, officials suspected a natural gas leak, but Columbia Gas gave the school’s systems a clean bill of health. The Hagerstown Fire Department, called in twice, detected traces of carbon monoxide and hydrogen but ruled out immediate danger. Theories swirled—from a rogue car battery off-gassing in the basement to whispers of a supernatural stink haunting the lower level. But the real source? A steaming stack of homemade burritos, lovingly prepared by the custodial crew in a closet-turned-kitchenette.

“It was just a little side hustle,” confessed an anonymous custodian, speaking under condition of anonymity while clutching a tortilla. “We figured the kids needed something heartier than vending machine chips. Beans are cheap, filling, and, well… we didn’t anticipate the atmospheric impact.”

According to sources, the custodial team had set up a makeshift griddle in a maintenance closet, whipping up batches of bean-heavy breakfast burritos to sell on the down-low. The operation, dubbed “Burrito Bonanza” by its founders, was a hit among early-morning staff until the unmistakable aroma of refried beans began seeping into the hallways, triggering alarms and mass confusion.

To prevent future whiffs of trouble, WCPS has installed carbon monoxide detectors throughout the lower level, though some students joke they should add “bean sensors” instead. Maintenance crews are now inspecting the building for any lingering traces of hot sauce or rogue pinto beans. In the meantime, the custodial staff has been relegated to serving coffee in the break room, with strict orders to keep the menu odor-free.

WCPS has promised to keep the community updated on any further developments—or aromas. For now, the halls of Tech High are clear, and the only thing cooking is the rumor mill.

No custodians had to make unexpected trips to the restroom while writing this article. This is a satire article by Ken Buckler. No actual burritos were harmed in the writing of this story.