Leo panicked. He abandoned the plunger and lunged for the toilet’s water supply valve, the little silver button that could cut off the apocalypse. He twisted it. It spun freely. Rust flaked off in his palm. The valve had long ago surrendered its duty; it was just a decorative silver knob now.
He did the only thing a reasonable, unprepared man could do. He called his mother. upstairs toilet clogged
The water in the bowl shivered again. Then, a slow, creeping rise began. A single, perfect tear of water slipped over the rim and landed on the tile with a splash that sounded, to Leo, like a gunshot. Leo panicked
“Did you plunge with conviction ?”
“From chest height,” he muttered. “This is insane.” It spun freely
He inserted the plunger with the solemnity of a knight drawing Excalibur. He pushed down. Nothing. He pulled up. A thick, gluttonous glug echoed through the pipes, a sound less like a drain clearing and more like a stomach digesting something regrettable.