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"I don't know if a plunger is going to cut it, unless I stick it to your head to make you lay off the toilet humor." Tully growled, massaging his temples. "I'm going to strangle someone if I find out who flushed... whatever the hell they flushed." He threatened idly, though he made a decent pantomime of the action. "I bet Wyatt Earp never had to do this..."

This was arguably because Wyatt Earp probably used an outhouse, but then Wyatt Earp didn't have to wonder if they should put a coin box on the toilet to discourage some of the local kids from finding out if it was as funny to flush a cherry bomb as it looked online.

He pushed his chair back and stood up, pulling down the slightly dusty office tool box, which had recently also been duty as a book end. A detail he'd evidently forgotten since he cursed when two phone-books and an handful of papers flew across the room. ((He'd also been promising previously to get real book ends, but Tully was well known for letting boring things slip his mind. It was like a specialized power that would never, ever make it to the comic books.))

He decided to leave them for now however as he stepped across them gingerly and picked up the plunger from the former flower pot that he'd decided to store it in, in case of 'questionable dripping stuff'.

"Fine. Fine. Lets go see if we can fix this."

"...Frag." Tully swore... or... sort of swore... when he managed to pull his face out of the convulsive grimace it locked itself into at the abyssal stench from beyond the S-bend. "Maybe this isn't such a bad time to repaint." He coughed, waving a hand to try and clear the air. ((The attempt failed in a quiet and slightly pathetic fashion.))

"Great. Just... just great." he groaned. I'll let you know if I identify the block." He promised, grimacing, and approaching gingerly, putting the tool box on the sink and then approaching the toilet, plunger in hand, as though he were wielding a weapon. "I swear, Now I think I understand why some places refuse to have public bathrooms."

Although the chance to use one sometimes drew in new people, who then might stay longer when they finally caught a whiff of Con's sugary treats... things like this made him wonder if it was worth the trouble. "But yeah... might...." He noted, grimacing in sympathy for the plunger as he dunked it into the oozy water in an attempt to start clearing the block in the most basic fashion. "Might be a good time to repaint in here. Not like new paint smell is any worse than 'Eau De Stupid-toilet-block'."

"Don't call me hon!" he protested, scootching back as far as he dared before taking another stab at trying to plunge the blockage free. "What the fraggidy did they put down this thing? A squirrel? Hey you better back up in case this thing overflows..."

He hoped it wasn't a squirrel. It just happened to be the most ludicrous thing he could think of that might possibly be crammed into a toilet. Someone had tried to flush a pair of underpants once. That had been unpleasant, and the plumber had nearly split his sides laughing after he retrieved it with some nasty looking little claw device.

He wished he could take the advice he'd just given Con, although he also wished Con wouldn't... well... cling. This situation was already brimming with potential awkward without Connor breathing in his ear. He'd have pointed out that he could have identified the other mans choice brand of Mouthwash, but then again, technically he already knew what that brand was -anyway-. They did live upstairs, though he'd be just as quick to point out that it was sort of a bastardized duplex.

"... Or maybe it's a T-shirt this time." He suggested, in fear for his loafers. Connors sneakers could go through a washing machine, if a little the worse for wear. One did not -launder- penny loafers. You just didn't

"Maybe we should just spray the walls with that paint that makes the walls like a chalkboard and get it the... hell over with." He stabbed at the toilet with the plunger again, with a vague sense of frustration and a tiny voice of doom in the back of his mind.

"Aw Shhhhhiiiii..." Tully didn't normally swear, or not directly, but he came pretty close as he scootched backward hastily, letting go of the plunger, which he didn't feel like fighting the toilet for it right now.

"I don't think the plunger's the problem!" he objected. How hard was it to plunge a damn toilet anyway. "You want to give it a shot go right ahead!"

This didn't seem too likely though, with the beginnings of Zombie-colored Niagara Falls beginning to splash all over the floor. "DAMN! I did not want to have to call that obnoxious plumber again! AND DON'T CALL ME TEDDY!!"

Tully engaged in a full body cringe as the water went everywhere, jaw working as he choked on a volley of unpleasantness that he was clearly trying not to vent.

The shoes were a obvious loss. He could picture evil green goo fermenting into the leather by the moment.

"You know what? Just... just shut-up." He groaned, gingerly picking a path backward out of the water. "Just. Shut. Up."

He carefully peeled the shoes off at the door to the bathroom, so he wouldn't track... whatever it was... across the floor. Besides he could chuck them at the Plumber later when the guy overcharged them. It might almost make up for listening to the guy's insanely offensive jokes.

"...Going to go call the goddamn plumber, then look up cruises to Tahiti because I swear to God I quit."

This would probably only be about the 30th time this year Tully had threatened to quit.

"I gotta call slouchy the wonder butt." He called back down the stairs. What the hell was with Plumbers and not wearing pants that fit when they bent over? "And I gotta get the mop. And then I gotta go run to the corner store because we do not have enough cleaning supplies for this." He thumped his way up the stairs, heels heavy. "He'd better get the hell down here because If I'm gonna be cleaning up poo and... swamp monster tampons all night then I'd better not be the only person being miserable."

He ranted, as he made his way upstairs. He didn't feel like using the office downstairs and he needed a new pair of shoes anyway.

"They were playing A Fist Full of Dollars tonight!" This was his second favorite, second only to the classic 'The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly', though really he preferred books over movies. It was just making him feel better to vent over the mess, since he couldn't get his hands on whoever had blocked the toilet to begin with. The upstairs door banged open, though he didn't actually go inside, stopping to grumble. "Should have just called the stupid plumber when the thing got blocked up in the first place."