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She stared at what he held in his hands. "Is that it?"
"Yep."
"Do they come . . . bigger?"
He reddened. "No, this is as big as they come."
"Well, okay. They're all pretty much the same, anyway."
He lifted his eyebrows.
"In my experience, anyway."
A few minutes later, he was staring down, deep in thought. Finally he thrust in as hard as he could. A few seconds later, he was pumping up and down, with Eames watching from her peculiar vantage point.
After a few failed attempts, she said, "Is that as far as it goes?"
"Eames, I can't get it in any further without breaking something."
"Okay, okay . . . maybe you should try—"
"Eames," he grunted, still pumping in and out, "I've done this a few times in my life, I think I know what I'm doing."
"Ew, it's getting everywhere!"
"That's okay, we have towels. And it's on tile, anyway."
Finally, with a faint pop!, he pulled out. Studying it for a while, he nodded and pushed the handle. It flushed to his satisfaction.
"And that," he said with a grin, "is how you unclog a toilet."
She heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you, Bobby."
"Don't mention it." He offered her his plunger. "You want to hang on to this?"
"Um . . .you keep it."
You had me going there for a bit...nicely done!