The Evil Clog

The whole ordeal started one sunny day when, for some reason, the stuff in the toilet wouldn't go down. I had seen these things happen before - we call them clogs. So I nonchalantly take out my plunger and - whoosh, whoosh, whoosh - everything is good and hunky dory again. Little did I know that this was just the beginning.

Meanwhile, in the sewage pipes beneath the floor, sat a very angry clog. "I'll get back at those people for this - even if it is the last thing tht I do!", exclaimed the clog, as fresh sewage rushed over its head. However, the clog needed a plan first. It decided that it needed to be bigger and stronger and more powerful. So every time something disgusting came past, the clog kept some. Soon it was the biggest clog ever recorded (they record these things?) in indoor plumbing history and ready for vengeance. "I'll be the snowball nobody wants to touch!", the clog said to itself. It then made its way back to the toilet from which it had originally been dislodged and was soon firmly entrenched in the pipes. "Ahh, home", the clog contentedly sighed.

Of course, I had no idea that any of this was going on. However, one day, when I went to flush, the stuff just wouldn't go down - again. Frustrated, I broke the unwritten rule about never flushing twice and was soon left with an hour of cleaning. Yuck. See, a clog can be a big problem, but when you only have one toilet, it's an even bigger problem. I rushed to the store to pick up some Drano (thankfully it is kept in bottles that look nothing like a soft drink. You don't really know what you are pouring into your cup when you aren't looking.) Still, the clog wasn't fixed. I was left with a dillema - the filling station bathroom, holding off until work, the woods, or some unattended nook every morning. It was time to call the plumber.

"I am getting my sweet revenge!" gloated the clog.

Soon, the plumber came - but he had no idea what he was walking into. "I don't know what to do with that toilet of yours," said the plumber. I was incredibly dismayed. "I am recommending a new toilet. That one is broken," he said, pointing to my toilet.

Toilet shopping. Great. Well, it beats the filling station, at least (and I'm not admitting to anything else, like the woods - who would do such a thing?). I could literally hear laughing coming from the toilet, but I couldn't figure out why.

In the meantime, unbeknownst to me, the clog and the plumber were working out a crooked plan.

"All I need is a little help," began the clog, "my plan is to break up into little clogs and invade the country via the sewer system. If you help me, I'll make you rich. You'll be the only person who'll be able to move me - or any of my offspring." "What do you need me to do?" asked the plumber, unable to hide his enthusiasm about the prospect of a lot of work in the middle of a bad economy. "A little putty," responded the shrewd clog. The plumber made a face like he wasn't sure about this, but it couldn't hurt to try with so many potential customers on the line. So he happily supplied the putty. "Thanks a million," said the clog, "You won't regret this." The plumber walked away, now hopeful that his luck was about to change. Sadly for the plumber, he didn't realize that this clog was just too inexperienced to be able to work its evil plan. It took the putty and cemented itself into my old toilet - good and tight.

Our story ends with a new toilet installed in my bathroom and my old one sitting on a garbage heap in a landfill. That nasty old clog now regrets cementing itself into the toilet - what a gross lack of mobility! It continues to wait for a chance to unstick itself and get back into the sewer system so that it can find my new toilet, but I don't foresee that happening any time in the near future.

The moral of the story? Next time that you plunge your toilet, be really nice and gentle. You might just be saving yourself a lot of trouble.