“Dave speaking. Toilet or sink?”

At breakfast, her husband called. “How was the night?”

“Toilet. There’s… a whale.”

She paid the very reasonable fee (Dave refused a tip, saying “I charge what’s fair, love, not what’s desperate”). Before he left, he handed her a laminated card: “Abingdon Draincare – No job too weird.”

“He’s wedged sideways,” Dave murmured. “But I’ve got a grabber claw. Cost me four hundred quid. Best investment of my life.”

A pause. “A real one?”