I guess this is my second article about hidden archaeology. The sink clogged, a lot. My brother had made pumpkin “things” after unleashing fatal fury upon it. I tried undoing the clog with two toilet plungers but as my surroundings acquired a petina of clogs past, toilet paper particles and the remains of my chicken chutney I realized the correction was beyond me.
My father and I unleashed the three horsemen of the sewage apocalypse of plunging, a drain snake and liquid plumber. The drain snake pulled up some pumpkin parts, a piece of a mop head and furhtest down some plaster of paris which reflected a clear record back to early September. The pumpkin seeds were from last week, the mop shards were from something I’ll simply call “The Accidental Floor Cleaning/Soap Disaster of October 2008 and the plaster of paris was from a failed demo piece for the early October Cub Day.
The drains are yet to be clogged and saying “Rotorooter” would be an order of magnitude worse in terms of lost manliness as asking for directions. So there are two options, using a drain-cleaning concoction I call “the widow maker” that generates both explosive hydrogen and corrosive chlorine gas or to simply wait and pray. I’m not much of praying man myself, so it looks like my dad’s going to have to smoke outside tomorrow. If I come into work with no eyebrows, a swollen face but a clean fork, know I have won.