Agnes prided herself on her impeccable manners, so when the downstairs toilet erupted like a geyser, she knew she had to be extra polite calling for help. “Oh dear,” she fretted, clutching her pearls. “This simply will not do!” She dialed the number of “Dave’s Drains,” mentally rehearsing her phrasing.
“Dave’s Drains, Dave speaking,” a gruff voice answered.
“Good morning, Dave,” Agnes chirped. “I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but I seem to have encountered… a slight plumbing predicament. The lavatory appears to be expressing itself rather forcefully, and I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest idea how to encourage it to calm down.”
Dave sighed. “Toilet trouble, eh? I’ll be there in an hour. What’s the address?”
An hour later, a man covered head-to-toe in overalls arrived, carrying enough tools to build a small bridge. He surveyed the scene, a swirling vortex of water and… other things. “Right then,” Dave said, rolling up his sleeves. “Looks like we got a blockage. Anything you know about?”
Agnes wrung her hands. “Well, I did recently purchase a new, rather fragrant… cleansing disk for the bowl. It promised to be extra strong and long lasting.”
Dave plunged valiantly for what felt like an eternity. Sweat dripped from his brow. Finally, with a triumphant heave, he pulled out a brightly colored, dissolving toilet bowl cleaner that looked suspiciously intact.
“This the culprit?” he asked, holding up the pristine disc.
Agnes gasped. “Oh my heavens! It appears it was a ‘forever’ cleansing disk! I do apologize for the inconvenience, Dave, I really thought it was just toilet trouble, Polite Plumber!”
Dave stared at the disc, then at Agnes. He looked at the toilet, which was now slowly receding. He wiped his forehead with a greasy hand. “Right, well,” he said. “That’ll be £80… and could you maybe flush this down the regular drain? I think I’ve seen enough of toilets for one day.”
