Sewer Pipe Clogged -

It was a sweater. A small, woolen sweater, rotted and torn, wrapped tightly around the blades.

“Try the camera,” Maya said, handing down the inspection scope like a surgeon passing a scalpel.

The drainpipe behind the doll began to tremble. The water level on the screen started to rise, then recede, then rise again—a rhythmic, pulsing motion. sewer pipe clogged

He walked back outside, where Hank was wiping his hands on a rag.

Hank worked the cable back and forth, the machine groaning under the strain. The smell wafting up from the vent was becoming unbearable, a concentrated dose of the sewer gas that had been plaguing Arthur for days. It was a sweater

It was a mess. A tangled, matted wreath of roots, grease, and unidentifiable debris. But tangled in the steel coils of the auger head was something else.

It was the most beautiful sound Arthur had ever heard. The drainpipe behind the doll began to tremble

Arthur stared. "Is that... clothing?"

"Could be," Hank said, leaning his weight into the machine. "Could be a collapse. Or..." He paused, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Could be a guest."

Arthur’s denial officially evaporated. He had a clogged sewer pipe.