I lugged buckets. "It's the fucking air conditioner again!" I shouted above the splashing roar of the downpour. "The pipe must have blown, and now all the hot water from the A/C for the entire fucking apartment complex is draining into our apartment!"
"Dammit!" Votania said. "What should I do?"
"How about a fucking anti-rain spell for just this bloody apartment?" I said, stomping and splashing, still wearing only my glasses and my underpants.
Votania collapsed in laughter.
"What?" I demanded, schlepping the next bucket, a tiny three-gallon one about to overflow.
"Oh gods," she said. "It's my fault. It's my fucking fault. I knew I shouldn't have done that ritual. Shamash spilling the water on the VCR was a warning, and I completely missed it!"
"You low-down, no-good, bow-legged, bald-headed, two-bit daughter of a bleep bubble out of your bleeping mother's bleep-infected bleep during Bitchy Witchy Week," I cursed at her good-naturedly, mindful of the eagerly listening ears of Nephew, who was perched safely out of harm's way on the top bunk of the bed in Votania's room, cheering and clapping. "Bleep you!"