Hello, Marshfield. (pt 3)

It was my first weekend in Marshfield. I'd rushed back from a weekend at home with family to volunteer at a health event, and was sorely disappointed to find I was not to be well utilized. I was intent on making the best of my early return to Marshfield, so I headed to my temporary home to do some more unpacking and settling.
Anyone who's anyone (aka anyone who has been on a roadtrip) knows that a first order of business after shifting from drive into park is a trip to the porcelain parlor.

This is the story of a detour caused by such a trip.

My hostess, M, was also out of town this weekend, so I wasn't able to ask her where to find the toilet-clearing agents. I was admittedly embarrassed, so was seeking to clear clogs as quickly as possible so she'd never know - clearly this sort of thing never happened to her, based on my fruitless perusal of various closets and cupboards in search of a plunger. After trying the flush-and-wait technique 5 times and eventually reaching the it's overflowing oh no oh no oh no stage, I turned to the experts:

I felt the first suggestion of using ample amounts of dish soap in the bowl was worth an attempt, but couldn't add the quantity of hot water they suggested due to reaching the oh no stage aforementioned. I squirted the green goo into the bowl and waited. Besides some green squiggles slowly sinking to the bottom, nothing changed. I waited for the chemical reaction to take place, then tried flushing again - bad idea. Multiple oh no oh no oh no oh dears later, it was time for a new plan.

The other suggested sans plunger clot-clearing methods involved adding more liquids to the bowl, so they were out. Fourth on the list involved a wire hanger and some gloves.
Jessica embarked on plan Fourth on the list.
Some strategic wire-bending, arm-twisting, nose-wrinkling moves later, I heard the wonderful sound of trickling water as the pipe resumed its duty as a conduit of refuse.
And Jessica resumed her less unsettling, more re-settling evening.

:)