It is a fate that one day befalls us all.
Water in the bowl, rising like a tide in tandem with the alarm and dread in our hearts and the black realization: it's going to overflow.
In the crazed scramble that replays itself in sluggish motion now in my mind, I first went for this lucite-handled excuse for a tool: The Cutesy Blue Plunger.
You may affirm that it matches my shower curtain, but nary has it cleared a clog.
In a panic, I leapt for Bucket and Bailer. They remained my true friends throughout the ordeal, keeping pisswater from lapping at the soles of my feet.
Over and over I went into the breach (seriously, like 110 times) with this trusty, borrowed black steed until my palm was bruised. Yet still, there was battle to be fought.
In mounting desperation, I fled to the nearby fortress of Wal-Mart, where I amassed a new arsenal.
The Master Plunger sucked up a gallon of water within its accordioned innards, and made impressive burbling sounds which inspired a fleeting optimism. However, this fire of hope soon died with the brackish water's staying.
Caustic chemicals comprised my next failed attack.
"Dissolves anything organic" it said, which rather worried me, since I'm (mostly) organic.
I donned protective gloves and eyewear, and the brown acid glugged menacingly out of the bottle, even smoking a little as it touched the water.
I waited the prescribed time, hoping the noxious fumes would avail a healthy flush.
I continued to wait.
Some of the brownness went from the water, but still, no familiar flushing of the water.
So I went ahead and turned it to 11. If this porcelain throne would not respond to many plunges, bailings and searing concoctions, I would just have to loose the snake upon it.
Twice this python crawled into the depths, swallowing the blocking evil.
And lo, it was good...
the sweet sound of free flushing was heard ringing from the tiles!
However, heed my moral, friends:
The Ceramic Goddess is not the trusted friend you believe her to be. She'll take your merd, alright, but one day, when you most need her, she'll flood it right back at you.
(In particular she doesn't like offerings of a feminine nature followed by paper towels full of dogdung. Just a tip.)