I Wield the Plunger of God!

And I blame the demise of my rocket-propelled toilet for this. As the hackneyed phrase goes, let's start at the beginning.

In my apartment, my toilet used to have a gizmo in the tank that looked like one of those rocket backpacks from the 1930s comic books--there was no water, just this rocket pack looking thing. It was designed to use very little water because it was some sort of high-pressure system: it probably could have flushed a bowling ball (regrettably, it's now too late to try). Unfortunately, the containment vessel sprung a leak and the rocket-propelled toilet was replaced with a standard water-gravity toilet.

Two Sundays ago, I decided to purchase a new plunger just in case, since I no longer had an all-powerful toilet. As I'm walking back from the hardware store on Newbury Street, my side of the street was very empty. I suddenly realized why as a crazy, deranged person scurried over to me and started telling me that I was evil and a servant of the Devil*. As I tried to dodge out of his way, he kept blocking my path and following me, repeating over and over that I was evil and of the Devil. I really didn't want to get physical with this guy: the best case scenario is that I beat a mentally ill person (not my idea of a good time), and the worst case scenario is that he hurts me (ditto). So I did what any Mad Biologist would. I took the plunger out of the bag, held it high and proclaimed, "But I wield the Plunger of God!"

Crazy guy looked frightened and scurried away. Now, there are two reasons why Crazy Guy might have fled. He may have thought I was the Arcangel Michael wielding the fiery sword of God or some other delusional madness. On the other hand, he very well might have thought, "This guy is fucking crazy!" For some reason, I find the latter explanation much more satisfying.

Why I'm sharing this story will be apparent a couple of posts from now.

*How the hell did Crazy Guy know the truth?