Sam just nodded. He’d lost the battle, but the war was over. And he had never been so happy to pay a bill in his entire life.
“Well,” Elena said from the porch, arms crossed. “The roses will be happy.”
She turned a valve. The hose jumped to life, not like a snake, but like a rocket. A high-pressure scream erupted from the pipe, a sound like a thousand angry wasps. Water, mud, and horror blasted out of the cleanout and into a catch basin she’d set up. For thirty seconds, the earth trembled.
The floor drain in the center of the concrete slab was… yawning. A dark, soupy liquid was bubbling up over its edges, spreading in a slow, inevitable fan across the floor. It carried with it the greywater ghosts of last night’s spaghetti, a rogue Cheerio, and the unfortunate evidence of Lily’s recent flush.
Finally, at 7:00 PM, he leaned the snake against the house, pulled off his gloves, and picked up his phone.
He pushed. He pulled. He cranked. The snake bucked in his hands, then went limp. He pulled it out. On the end was a muddy, dripping, unmistakable object: a small, plastic toy dinosaur. A Tyrannosaurus rex , to be precise.
“Main sewer line,” Sam whispered, the three most dreaded words in a homeowner’s vocabulary. “It’s clogged.”
“What was that?” Lily called down from the stairs.
Main Sewer Line Clogged Best <PRO>
Sam just nodded. He’d lost the battle, but the war was over. And he had never been so happy to pay a bill in his entire life.
“Well,” Elena said from the porch, arms crossed. “The roses will be happy.”
She turned a valve. The hose jumped to life, not like a snake, but like a rocket. A high-pressure scream erupted from the pipe, a sound like a thousand angry wasps. Water, mud, and horror blasted out of the cleanout and into a catch basin she’d set up. For thirty seconds, the earth trembled. main sewer line clogged
The floor drain in the center of the concrete slab was… yawning. A dark, soupy liquid was bubbling up over its edges, spreading in a slow, inevitable fan across the floor. It carried with it the greywater ghosts of last night’s spaghetti, a rogue Cheerio, and the unfortunate evidence of Lily’s recent flush.
Finally, at 7:00 PM, he leaned the snake against the house, pulled off his gloves, and picked up his phone. Sam just nodded
He pushed. He pulled. He cranked. The snake bucked in his hands, then went limp. He pulled it out. On the end was a muddy, dripping, unmistakable object: a small, plastic toy dinosaur. A Tyrannosaurus rex , to be precise.
“Main sewer line,” Sam whispered, the three most dreaded words in a homeowner’s vocabulary. “It’s clogged.” “Well,” Elena said from the porch, arms crossed
“What was that?” Lily called down from the stairs.
Loved the idea and the infographic (y)
Lovely blog post, Calvy boy! Here’s hoping people draw inspiration and say no to crackers for good.
I am totally in favour of saying no to crackers coz I know how these tiny beings get scared especially street furry babies.. I will share your article on my face book also so that each reaches to maximum people and they learn to say big NO to crackers .. 🙂
Super post. It hurt me to see the condition several stray dogs were in last night. Not much of a happy Diwali for them! I was glad to see some of them taken indoors by a helpful security guard.