Have you ever seen someone get EXACTLY what they deserved?

The Super Bowl Disaster

Have you ever seen someone get exactly what they deserved? My stepdad, Gary, was having his stupid Super Bowl party when I noticed the downstairs toilet making this gurgling sound like it was possessed by a demon.

I told him we needed to call a plumber right now because something was wrong with the pipes.

But Gary laughed and said, “I didn’t know anything about home ownership because I was just a freeloading kid living in his house.” He actually made air quotes when he said, “Emergency.”

And told his idiot friends that I probably clogged it with too much toilet paper like a little princess. And they all laughed while I stood there turning red.

20 minutes later, the toilet was literally bubbling like a witch’s cauldron, and the smell was making people gag. But Gary just sprayed an entire can of Freze and announced that real men don’t need plumbers.

When I tried to show him the water rising dangerously close to the rim, he grabbed my phone and said if I called anyone or embarrassed him in front of his guests, he’d take away my car keys for a month and tell my mom I’d been sneaking girls into the house. That’s when I realized Gary cared more about his ego than the fact that we were about to have a literal crap tsunami in the house he loved more than his own family.

The toilet was making these deep rumbling sounds like a volcano about to erupt. Brownish water was starting to seep around the base onto his precious bathroom tiles that he’d spent 3 months picking out.

I ran to the garage to find the water shut off valve while Gary stood in the bathroom with a plunger. He was telling his drunk friends that he’d been fixing toilets since before I was born and didn’t need some teenager teaching him about plumbing.

He was literally lecturing them about how his father never called professionals for anything. He was jabbing the plunger up and down like he was harpooning a whale and each thrust made the water rise higher and higher.

His best friend Kyle was recording it on his phone, saying Gary was a real man who could handle anything.

And Gary was eating it up, flexing his muscles while plunging and saying, “This is how a homeowner takes care of business.” The toilet made this unholy shrieking sound, and Gary just plunged harder, saying it was almost fixed, and everyone should watch the master at work.

I found the shut off valve, but it was painted over and wouldn’t budge.

So, I grabbed a wrench while listening to Gary upstairs telling everyone about how plumbers were scam artists who charged $500 just to use a plunger that cost 10 bucks at the hardware store.

He actually brought his friends into the bathroom to show them his technique. They stood around drinking beer while sewage water lapped at their shoes like they were at the world’s worst beach.

Gary started telling the story about how he’d fixed a toilet at his ex-wife’s house just to make her new husband look stupid. Everyone was laughing while the toilet literally started overflowing onto their feet.

His friend Kevin suggested maybe they should move to another room, and Gary called him a [EXPLICIT CONTENT REDACTED] and said, “Real men don’t run from toilets.” Then he grabbed another beer and poured some into the toilet, saying it would loosen things up.

The water in the toilet had turned black and was swirling like a nightmare. And Gary’s friend Mike was backing toward the door, saying, “Maybe they should call someone.”

But Gary accused him of not being a real friend and started questioning his manhood. That’s when Gary made the stupidest decision of his stupid life and flushed the toilet to clear the system.

The water rose up like a geyser of pure evil. Everyone started screaming and running, but Gary stood his ground with the plunger, yelling that he had it under control while brown water poured over the rim and across the floor.

The smell hit everyone at once, and two of his friends actually threw up, which made everything worse. Gary was slipping in the sewage while still trying to plunge and maintain his dignity.

He screamed at me that this was somehow my fault for not maintaining the toilet properly. Like I was the one who owned this house and refused to do basic maintenance for 5 years.

I was still fighting with the shut off valve while Gary tried to use bath towels to build a dam in the hallway. The towels just turned into sewage sponges that made squishing sounds when you stepped on them.

We heard this deep rumbling from inside the walls that sounded like the house was growling. Sewage started coming up through the shower drain and the sink.

But Gary still wouldn’t let anyone call a plumber. He actually took someone’s phone and threw it in the sewage when they tried to look up emergency plumbers.

He was saying he’d rather burn the house down than admit defeat to a toilet. The bathroom was flooding with chunky brown water that was flowing into the hallway toward his man cave.

Gary dropped the plunger and ran to save his signed football jerseys.

He was literally crying about his memorabilia while standing ankle deep in human waste. His friends were filming everything while gagging from the smell.

Gary turned to me with pure hatred in his eyes and said, “This was all my fault for mentioning it in the first place, that if I just kept my mouth shut, none of this would have happened.” Then he said when my mom got home, he was going to tell her I deliberately sabotaged his party because I was jealous of him being the man of the house.

That’s when the pipe in the wall made a sound like a gunshot. And I saw the drywall start to buckle outward.

Through the growing crack came a jet of dark brown sewage aimed directly at Gary’s man cave. That’s where he kept his signed jerseys, his vintage beer signs, and that 80-in TV he wouldn’t let anyone else touch.

Gary’s face went from rage to complete horror as he realized exactly what was about to happen to everything he loved. The pipe burst with a sound like thunder, and sewage exploded through the drywall in a thick brown jet that hit Gary’s signed jerseys dead center.

Gary screamed and tried to run toward his precious collection. But his feet went out from under him on the slick floor, and he landed hard on his back with a wet splat.

The sewage kept blasting through the hole in the wall like a fire hose made of pure evil. It was spraying across his 80-in TV and coating everything in chunky brown sludge.

Kyle held his phone up higher to get a better angle. Gary flopped around on the floor like a fish, trying to get up, but slipping every time he moved.

I ran back to the garage and grabbed a hammer. I slammed it against the painted over shut off valve until something cracked and the handle finally started to turn.