Pardon the insurrection: The NAPP has your effluent, baby.


Sometimes the Paris sewer took a notion to overflow, as though this misunderstood Nile were suddenly seized with a fit of rage.
–Victor Hugo

This is Biff Sprawlton, reporting live from New Albany’s Robert E. Lee Lift Station, where two members of the “New Albany Potty Police” have gotten themselves firmly wedged into sewer pipes.

But first: Thanks to our sponsor, Bass Pro Shops, for providing me with these rugged but stylish Hodgman Hip Waders. My producer, Marlon Perkins, will be enjoying a fine, craft- brewed NABC ale from the luxury of our Sky Team helicopter while I rappel down into the sewer plant to interview the ladies. Ready? Here goooeeeeesssss …

Biff Sprawlton: Ladies, are you staging a symbolic protest against the inefficiencies of the sewer utility?

Ms. Queasy: No, not really. We just plain got stuck. It’s the mayor’s fault, you know – either him or that lawyer fellow. If it wasn’t for them, we wouldn’t be in this fix.

Ms. Dawkston: We don’t like either one of them. They’re a disgrace to the hallowed operating procedures of the sewage treatment plant. You know, seeing a properly run sewage treatment plant is like going into one of those cathedrals. You feel warm and fuzzy inside. That’s why we sued ‘em that time.

BS: Did you win the suit?

Ms. Q: No, we got whupped. I was so depressed that I stayed in bed for a month, reading my favorite book over and over.

BS: What book is it?

Ms. Q: It’s called, “The Secret Life of Sewage.”

BS: I see. So, what are you doing down here?

Ms. D: I was watching the Sewer Channel on Pay-Per-Spew, and there was a documentary about that Miserable book, where the Frenchies go down in the sewers and chase each other.

Ms. Q: And we said heck, we’re a lot more miserable than those darned Frenchies, so we thought we’d go down there and commence to plotting against Garner and the pergessives. Baron Hill was supposed to be here.

BS: What exactly are the “potty police”?

Ms. D: Well, no one else cares about sewage as much as we do, and we know more about it than those pointy head professionals, so we’re on duty, watching.

Ms. Q: We watch a lot. Watching’s fun. I like it. We made up badges and everything.

BS: Uh oh — bad news, ladies. It’s starting to rain.

Ms. D: No, that’s great news! A little bit of an overflow, and we’ll come shooting out of these pipes just like fireworks on the 4th of July (POP).

Bystander 1: Whoa, thar she blows. From down here, she looks almost like a dancing manhole cover.

Bystander 2: Yep, now she’s coming down. Looks like she’s gonna do the Cannonball over at the Scribner Place pond.



Bystander 3: There goes another one – or maybe it’s a parachute shaped like a petticoat.


Bystander 4: The second one gets an 8.5, but only because here legs weren’t properly aligned when she hit the mud.

Bystander 5: That’s a letdown, for sure. I had high hopes for the Potty Police in this year’s Wastewater Olympics, but now I’m not so sure. Say, let’s go down to Hugh E. Bir’s for an ice-cold Budweiser.

Ms. Q: Hey, wait for me. Soon as I change into something more comfortable … aw, hell, they’ll never notice down there. Warm me up a stool!

BS: That’s all from New Albany. Stay tuned for “Dork and Mindy,” a fable about puppy love and political queenmaking – exclusively at Freedom to Screech. Posted by Picasa