Swindon New! — Drain Unblocking

Frank sighed. He’d heard it all: false teeth, wedding rings, a lost iguana named Trevor. But singing drains? That was a new flavour of madness. Still, the woman—Mrs. Albright of Bath Road—offered triple rates. Frank grabbed his rodding kit, his high-pressure water jet, and a battered torch. He kissed his sleeping terrier, Barry, goodbye and stepped into the storm.

It was about two feet tall, dressed in a yellowed lace gown. Its painted face was cracked but serene. Its eyes, however, were wide open and wet. As the camera’s light swept over it, the doll turned its head. drain unblocking swindon

“Fine, Mrs. Albright,” he called back. “Just a… tricky obstruction.” Frank sighed

Frank reeled in his hose and camera. His hands were steady, but his soul was not. He stood up, wiped his brow, and gave Mrs. Albright his best professional nod. That was a new flavour of madness

“No job too strange. No blockage too cursed.”

He heard Mrs. Albright’s footsteps on the stairs. “The gurgling has stopped,” she said, wonder in her voice. “And the water in the toilet… it’s going down.”