Barnie and Debit in the Bedroom

     When I starting to hallucinate and speak in tongues due to the constant banging from Debit working on the bathroom renovation, I left the house for a couple of hours to regain what is left of my sanity. 
      I returned to find my youngest dog, Rembrandt, throwing himself at the door when he heard my key in the lock and one of my Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, Louie, screaming.
      Debit, what have you been doing to my children?
      Then I saw Debit.
      When last I left him, he was merely bloodied due to cutting himself on a shard of tile.  Now he was bloodied and soaking wet. 
       He said, "Your pipes are old."
       Look, haven't we already established that everything about me is old?
       "The banging broke pipe."
       Uh oh.
       But just as my heart was going into an irregular rhythm, he added, "I break pipe, I fix pipe."  Whew.  Cancel the paramedics.  Wait, though.  "Is it a mess upstairs?"  I ask.
       "In the bedroom."
       Call 911.
       In the bedroom?  Are there pipes in the bedroom? 
       He led me to the room in question -- the bathroom.  Geez, Debit really needs help with his accent as bathroom sounded to me a whole lot like bedroom, or he confused the two rooms.  Who cares?  And, what really matters, is that a mess has been completely cleaned up.  He presents the rusted pipe as evidence but again states, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, "I break pipe. I fix pipe." 
      God Bless You, Debit.