Arthur stood up, his knees cracking, his waders covered in a fine layer of silt. He felt a profound, primal sense of satisfaction. He had commanded the elements. He had vanquished the clog. He had retrieved the lost toy soldier.
John grinned, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Hey, someone's gotta keep the backyard drain flowing!" he said, winking. And with that, he fired up the grill, and the afternoon was saved. backyard drain clogged
He fed the snake into the dark, murky depths of the drainpipe. He turned the crank. Clank. Clank. Arthur stood up, his knees cracking, his waders
He grabbed a stick from a nearby bush and probed the hole. He hit resistance. Something solid was down there, deeper than his arm could reach. He had vanquished the clog
The resistance gave way. Arthur felt the pipe clear. He pulled the snake back, bringing with it a gruesome tangle of invasive roots and a plastic toy soldier—lost property belonging to his son, missing since the great "Battle of the Sandbox" three summers ago.
As he approached, the scale of the blockage became clear. It wasn't just surface debris. The water was swirling counter-clockwise near the grate, indicating a partial suction, but the solid mass on top was impenetrable.