The Flood

So today, I woke up to screams.

Walking out of my door, wondering wtf was going on, I was instantly hit in the face with a thick, white fog that smelled like a horse's rectum. I also simultaneously stepped into a puddle of what felt like warm dog pee.

Turns out that our heater pipes burst during the night. The common room floor was covered in at least an inch of water, and the wave of doom was slowly converging on my position. I took evasive action (jumped onto my bed) and prepared a swift and effective counterstrike (got a bunch of towels and toilet paper).

Walking out of my room was like stepping into a cloud. Visibility was at a minimum. The water was really hot too, as a result from its source, the broken heater, which was spewing out said water at a few litres per second. Attempting to open the windows only resulted in burnt feet, until I used my hero powers (I ran real fast and screamed a lot) and managed to get both open.

Calling emergency was hopeless. A desperate call of flooding seemed like a prank, so it took about 10 minutes for them to send a response team of one person. During that time, we mounted a defense, consisting of piled up blankets and towels. Unfortunately, the water dodged our blockade and took the most unsuspected and defenseless path: through the wall.

Jonny's room was hit the hardest, with the entire floor drowned in an inch of water that had snuck in underneath the baseboards. The evil liquid, after eliminating 'cell A' began its attack on my apartment, but luckily, emergency services arrived just in time. The woman's exact words were 'Holy Fucking Josephine!' as she called for backup.

Soon enough, the flow was stopped, but not averted. Water still continued to spread itself out, eventually covering 80% of my floor, despite my valiant efforts to keep afloat. The damage was terrible. Wet vacs were brought in, and although the emergency team did their best, extensive casualties occured.

Basically, the final outcome was grim. Jonny had to be evacuated to rm 108, the baseboard had to be ripped off and holes had to be drilled into the walls to leech out the water that had chosen to hide cowardly within the panelling. Our room was not the only one hit. The apartment directly below was awoken by water paratrooping from the ceiling, launching an unexpected attack on a neutral, innocent faction.

Dehumidifiers and 'Tornado' fans were set up rapidly, and the war was won, with few lives lost. The floor is still wet, but that too, will fade in time, and all that will remain is a thick, lingering smell of burnt hair and horse crap.


As the brave and courageous photographer I am, I managed to risk my life to bring you some shots of the battlefield.

A view of the invading enemy. A blockade can be seen in the edge of the hallway, desperately attempting to hold back the impending flood.


Alex was swallowed by the insidious fog, which hindered our attempts to stop the disaster.


The fog was thick, heavy, and smelt like a douched pork chop.


Another view of the water and our blockades.