Hisu
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Mar 8, 2014
- Messages
- 423
I live in a condo (no, I didn't miss the 'm'; it's a kind of multi-apartment residential building), on the 11th floor. At the same porch block, on the first floor, lives a firefighter, but not just any firefighter — he's the captain of his unit and the driver/mechanic for the vehicle they ride. He's a gumptious and handy man, but not a very bright one (finished only the middle school, I heard) — an ideal mind- and skillset to work in emergency services.
The story begins yesterday, when that bloke got home and found an obstruction somewhere in the sewer pipe. It was too late in the night to call a plumber, so he got to sleep and called the plumbing service today in the morning. They promised to, quote, 'send someone in about a day'. Apparently, the old firefighter wasn't satisfied with the answer and decided to take matters in his own hands.
But, as I said before, he was a gumptious and handy man, so he didn't step as low as getting a scouring string to drill the obstruction. No, it was too primitive a solution for him. Instead, he set off to work and brought his fire truck. He remembered physics lessons from school and figured that high pressure should clean the obstruction for sure, so he took the hose, fixed it into his toilet and turned the water cannon on. Apparently he didn't remember physics very good and couldn't figure what the water pressure numbers for his fire truck cannon meant.
First thing the children playing in the courtyard noticed was sizzling and hissing sounds from somewhere above. Looking at the presumed source of distraction, they saw a little brown fountain, and, in a few minutes, the smell came. The thing is, the plumbing is old Russian condos use the large main pipe, one for each porch block, going from the roof to basement, and the roof end is often covered — but sometimes not, like in this case. Thus, a rain of crap fell upon passers-by, much to the joy of said kids who watched it all happen from safe distance.
Next, throughout the whole porch block, from first to the top floor, all toilets imagined themselves geysers. How did it look for people returning home from work — I think there's no need to explain that in detail.
There was a man who had it worse than rest, though. He lived on the second floor in the same porch block, right above our inventive firefighter captain. When it all happened, he was sitting on his toilet, minding his own business and, perhaps, taking a shit. The stream from the sewer pipe thrown him off the john and almost flattened him to the ceiling.
I heard he's looking for his first floor neighbour now, who's most likely hiding at his station right now. I think.
On a side note, it took me almost whole day to clean the mess, and it's very cold here, 'cause if I close the windows, the smell won't go out. Brrrrrrrrr.
Oh, and, yeah, our fireman -did- clean his sewer pipe. I don't know how he didn't destroy it, though; that thing was sure built to last, it seems.
The story begins yesterday, when that bloke got home and found an obstruction somewhere in the sewer pipe. It was too late in the night to call a plumber, so he got to sleep and called the plumbing service today in the morning. They promised to, quote, 'send someone in about a day'. Apparently, the old firefighter wasn't satisfied with the answer and decided to take matters in his own hands.
But, as I said before, he was a gumptious and handy man, so he didn't step as low as getting a scouring string to drill the obstruction. No, it was too primitive a solution for him. Instead, he set off to work and brought his fire truck. He remembered physics lessons from school and figured that high pressure should clean the obstruction for sure, so he took the hose, fixed it into his toilet and turned the water cannon on. Apparently he didn't remember physics very good and couldn't figure what the water pressure numbers for his fire truck cannon meant.
First thing the children playing in the courtyard noticed was sizzling and hissing sounds from somewhere above. Looking at the presumed source of distraction, they saw a little brown fountain, and, in a few minutes, the smell came. The thing is, the plumbing is old Russian condos use the large main pipe, one for each porch block, going from the roof to basement, and the roof end is often covered — but sometimes not, like in this case. Thus, a rain of crap fell upon passers-by, much to the joy of said kids who watched it all happen from safe distance.
Next, throughout the whole porch block, from first to the top floor, all toilets imagined themselves geysers. How did it look for people returning home from work — I think there's no need to explain that in detail.
There was a man who had it worse than rest, though. He lived on the second floor in the same porch block, right above our inventive firefighter captain. When it all happened, he was sitting on his toilet, minding his own business and, perhaps, taking a shit. The stream from the sewer pipe thrown him off the john and almost flattened him to the ceiling.
I heard he's looking for his first floor neighbour now, who's most likely hiding at his station right now. I think.
On a side note, it took me almost whole day to clean the mess, and it's very cold here, 'cause if I close the windows, the smell won't go out. Brrrrrrrrr.
Oh, and, yeah, our fireman -did- clean his sewer pipe. I don't know how he didn't destroy it, though; that thing was sure built to last, it seems.
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