Fatberg
We got the emergency call at night,
And we headed out there at first light
He’d said “there seems to be a blockage I think –
We were alerted by the terrible stink”.
Our brave men soon climbed under the ground,
And were frankly amazed at what they soon found:
The sewage had swelled up into a great ball,
Went right up to the ceiling and wall-to-wall.
It was the biggest obstruction we’d seen,
And to tackle it, nobody was keen.
It looked like the worst project from hell,
And that doesn’t even cover the smell.
We named it the fatberg – just for a joke -
But it weren’t funny when we started to poke,
To discover of what it was made,
And tried to dislodge it with a sharp spade.
It consisted of fat and congealed grease,
Then wetwipes and nappies were the next piece.
Sanitary towels was one of the thirds,
And the rest was an assortment of turds.
You see, people go to the loo in a rush,
And give not a care to whatever they flush.
It’s a general waste disposal can:
They tend to forget once it’s gone down the pan.
But I digress, for disposal was now the task.
How did we shift it? I’m hearing you ask.
Well, lend an ear and don’t be too gobby,
And I’ll tell you how we shifted that jobbie.
The thing was enormous that was for sure:
We had to get on top to effect a cure.
A man had to ascend, using crampons,
And ropes to clamber over the tampons.
We pulled and tugged it from the crown,
And even considered melting it down.
We used hammers and drills of all types,
And attacked it with axes and hosepipes.
The thing wouldn’t yield, resisted the assault.
We tried everything, but it wasn’t our fault,
And we realised the thing was stuck tight,
So then we resorted to dynamite.
It was only meant to be a small blast,
But once we’d started, the die it was cast.
We weren’t sure how far off we should walk,
But it was like a bottle blowing its cork.
You see the sewer’s narrow like a funnel,
So all of the debris shot down the tunnel.
We were in the way – that’s the truth of it;
Not surprising that we got covered in shit.
We were well messy, if you get my drift,
But at least it was in blocks we could shift.
As a workforce we looked sad and sorry,
But we loaded it all up on a lorry.
So next time you think you might go for a piss,
Listen closely and reflect upon this:
It’s a nice moral I think that you’ll find:
Out of sight ain’t the same as out of mind.
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