He poured half a bottle of Dawn into the bowl. Then a pot of boiling water. The water level rose further. Now the bathroom smelled like lavender-scented disaster.

He did. And as the humid July air mixed with the lavender-poopy breeze, Kevin made a silent vow. No more burritos. And from now on, he’d buy the good plunger.

He finally called the landlord. “Mr. Henderson,” he whimpered. “The toilet in 4B… it’s stopped up.”