I am awfully handy around the house. I can change all the lightbulbs that I can reach and I know how to clog and unclog a drain.
Mom called me the other day and mentioned that the drain in her shower was a little sluggish. Always helpful, I offered my expertise. I told her to use the most powerful and toxic chemicals that she could get her hands on. She listened attentively and followed my useful advice.
The following is the account of what happened, according to Mom:
The next morning, Mom unearthed a bottle of Drain-O in her basement. It was vintage Drain-O. Not the liquid kind. The crystals of pure fire. While she knew that this bottle was potentially a valuable antique, she decided that she had no option but to use it.
She took her morning shower as usual. She got out and wrapped a towel around herself. Leaving the hot water running, she grabbed the bottle of poison and attempted to pour it down the drain. After years in the basement, the granules stuck together. She shook the bottle. She tapped it on the side of the tub. The steam from the hot water began to soften the crystals slightly and the chemical process began to take place.
By "chemical process," I mean that the lye based agent in the bottle began to heat up. Rapidly. Lye heats to 200 degrees (I think that's like -8 Celcius) in about 2.5 seconds (I don't know the metric conversion for seconds).
The bottle was rather warm. Mom, in her infinite wisdom, grabbed a second towel to wrap around the bottle. She continued to pour. When the fumes began to strangle her, she decided to call it quits. Plus, her hand was beginning to melt into the bottle.
She ran downstairs with the bottle in hand. I'm not sure where the towel around her body was lost, but she continued to run. She threw open her patio door and ran outside. Nude. Towel and scorching hot bottle in hand. She lobbed the burning, smoking bottle over her patio and into the large lawn separating her condo from the rest of the community. Did I mention that she was completely naked?
After several hours, she retrieved the now melted bottle from the scorched grass. Unsure of what to do with it, she looked for a place to dump it. Noticing that her neighbor's cars were gone, she disposed of it neatly in their trash can.
I told her that this was a crime. Almost as bad as the whole motor oil on the neighbor's plants incident (accidental, I'm sure). I told her that the neighborhood association was sure to kick her out for this offense. "What are you going to do?" I asked.
"I'm going to deny it, of course. I'll tell them that it's all lyes."