I don’t know Jews who talk with this dialect. But since it kinda adds to the joke, I’ll use it:
One night a fire started inside the local chemical plant. In the blink of an eye it exploded into massive flames. The alarm went out to all fire departments for miles around.
When the volunteer fire fighters appeared on the scene, the chemical company president rushed to the fire chief and said, “All our secret formulas are in the vault in the center of the plant. They must be saved. I’ll give $50,000 to the fire department that brings them out intact.” But the roaring flames held off the firefighters.
Soon more fire departments had to be called in as the situation became desperate. As the firemen arrived, the president shouted out that the offer was now $100,000 to the fire department who could save the company’s secret files.
From the distance, a lone siren was heard. It was the nearby Hasidic Jewish township volunteer fire company, composed of ultra-Orthodox men over the age of 65.
To everyone’s amazement, that little broken-down fire engine roared right past all the sleek newer engines that were parked outside the plant. Without even slowing down, it drove straight into the middle of the inferno.
Outside, the other firemen watched as the Hasidic old timers jumped off right in the middle of the fire and fought it back on all sides. Within a short time, the Hasidic old timers had extinguished the fire and saved the secret formulas.
The grateful chemical company president announced that for such a superhuman feat he was upping the reward to $200,000, and walked over to personally thank each of the brave fire fighters.
A TV reporter rushed in to capture the event on film, asking their chief, “What are you going to do with all that money?”
“Well,” said Moishe Goldberg, the 70-year-old Fire Chief, “Da foist ting ve gonna do is fix da brakes on dat foocking truck!”