Wayne's World ~ Battling an underground army PDF Print
Local Content - Opinions
Written by Wayne Litke   
Monday, 09 January 2012 22:28

I hope readers had an enjoyable time visiting with family and friends over Christmas and New Year’s  and basking in incredibly warm winter weather. Our children and their spouses returned, so there was considerably more noise and festivities than normal at our home, and it was great. However, our socializing suffered a bit of a setback Dec. 24-25.
It began with a nasty surprise on Christmas Eve, and it continued on from there. No one likes to return home and discover a toilet has overflowed, and that is exactly what happened on the 24th. I knew immediately it was bad news because of the timing. I should have suspected a problem since warning signs had surfaced one day earlier when the basement toilet (affectionately known as Johnnie) decided to temporarily revolt. It starting treating guests badly and was acting in a menacing manner.
Not being one to tolerate such behaviour, I personally gave Johnnie a severe reaming out. I didn’t lose my patience, but I definitely was not in the mood for such pranks and my vigorous actions spoke much louder than my words. After that, there were no more problems . . . for a day. It was just after noon on Christmas Eve that I was informed that another act of terrorism was underway.
To my utter dismay, Johnnie and his underworld associates had risen up and claimed the basement throne as their own. I confronted the amphibious onslaught and issued an order that blistered my wife’s ears and caused her face to turn beet red. However, the members of the coup d’poo ignored my command to immediately back down. Instead, the rebels slowly advanced forward and threatened to claim even more territory.
Not being a stranger to such tactics, I out-flanked the invaders and attacked their rear. Once again a snake was sent into the toilet clean-out in hopes of breaking through the enemy lines. However, their stronghold was not encountered and that’s when I knew we were in deep trouble. The enemy had solid reinforcements somewhere in the main line that could not be reached using my conventional weapons of war. Since it was Christmas Eve and was too late to call for assistance, a tactical decision was made to rest for the night and launch a Christmas-morning counter attack.
I hoped the enemy’s lines had softened overnight since my severe lack of fire power was obvious. Armed with a garden hose (the only thing I could find that was 25 feet long), a daylight assault was launched at the main line. Unfortunately, it was a messy and unsuccessful campaign. Therefore, a second attack was made after securing some heavy duty wire, but it also failed. A third and final push to break through enemy lines using a long length of copper tubing also resulted in failure. Regrouping, a decision was made to enlist the town’s help. Knowing it was Christmas Day, I dialed the after-hours phone number with a heavy heart and mixed feelings of shame and guilt.
To my surprise, a human voice answered and said reinforcements would be sent that included the town’s big guns. I felt better knowing the battle would not be lost, but knew someone was going to do a job that should never be done on Christmas Day. A short while latter, Levon Nielson arrived with a power router and got down to business. He fired up the router and quickly chewed through Johnnie’s front line and knocked out his defenses. A victorious cheer erupted from my lips as Johnnie’s rag-tag army went down. Then a mad rush to the bathrooms ensued.
Along with Levon, Roger Herring also deserves a big thank you for helping when the chips were down. Looking at old household records that were found, I recalled a previous engagement about five years ago which resulted in a similar war, and it occurred on a statutory holiday of course. Town employees came to the rescue and disaster was averted. They advised me to launch a counter-terrorism campaign every two or three years and have tree roots cleaned from the sewer line. However, once the sewer was working well, I forgot about their words of advice. My subsequent inaction allowed an underground movement to grow into a full-blown uprising at a time when our household was most vulnerable to attack.
Therefore I made a New Year’s resolution in 2012 to never allow history to repeat itself (again) and decided the responsibility of booking a biannual sewer line cleaning will go to my wife.

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