Monday, February 27, 2012
Flushed With Pride
It was raining hard in Seattle. I was glad I lived in Phoenix. I was working the day watch in sewercide when the phone rang.
"This is Thursday."
"Ha! Can't fool me, I know it's Friday."
"Not on the interwebb buddy. How can I help you?"
"My toilet just exploded."
"Why don't you call Roto-Pooter?"
"This was no accident. Someone blew john up on purpose."
"So it's another sewercide."
"Why do you call it that?"
"It's my job. I have to work the joke in somewhere."
"Are you serious?"
"Sometimes. What's the address?"
He gave it to me and I ran down to the garage and jumped into my Volt. I sighed, once again aware of the effect of departmental budget cuts. If I ever had to chase down a felon who had a faster car, say a Yugo, then I was in real trouble. But the Volt was environmentally responsible and cheap so there we are. Traffic was light so it only took 2 hours to drive the 6 blocks to the guy's house. I slid to the curb and walked up the porch steps, rang the buzzer and a second later the door was opened by one of the biggest guys I'd ever seen.
"You Thursday?" he growled.
"That's correct sir."
His gaze dropped to the animal I held. "What's that?"
"Your name's Thursday, and you carry a-"
"Uh huh. What about the toilet?"
"Sorry. Someone blew it up."
"I know. That's why I'm here."
"Why's the badger here then?"
"Comes with the job."
"Okay. Well, you better come on in then."
I followed the guy inside and to the shambles of a bathroom. There was a gaping hole in the floor surrounded by very small bits of porcelain. "This the remains?" I asked and stooped for a closer look at the ballcock. "We might have to dust this for prints."
"Why would there be prints on that?"
"We have to check everything sir."
"Sounds like a cock and bull story to me."
"Close. Any idea who might do this?"
"Why are you asking me? You think I had something to do with this?"
"Not until now."
"Look you, I don't run around blowing up toilets."
"What do you run around blowing up?"
"Usually small chairs and the occasional ottoman."
I had to admit he had me there, so I said, "Well sir, I think I have this figured out."
"Uh huh. Oh, I admit I had some help."
"That piece of yellow paper nailed to the wall over the sink."
"What about it?"
"It's a note explaining why your neighbor blew up your toilet."
"He got sick of you bragging about it all the time."
"Well, hey! It was a state of the art Commodo Dragon. I mean, I've never had such a great toilet in my life. It had 7 flush modes, and guess what they called the quietest one that used just the perfect amount of water depending on the size of the offering?"
"Offering?" I didn't blame the guy's neighbor. I was getting a little sick myself. But there was no stopping this joker, not even by ignoring his question.
"It's called the royal flush."
I'd suspected as much. I shrugged, and said, "Well that's about all then. I better go talk to the neighbor."
"So another quick and successful sewercide investigation?"
"Uh huh. Helps when there's a sewercide note."
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