GNN's Grungle Grimegrabber is live from the depths of the Goblin Nation's sewers, where gnome workers are losing their daily battle with the goblin "mornin' dump."
"The situation down here is dire," Grimegrabber reports, barely audible over the roar. "The gnomes are working tirelessly, but they're no match for the volume. It's a tsunami of fermented mushroom ale, half-digested grubs and unspeakable horrors."
The gnomes are the skeleton crew the Council quietly let back in on day passes after November's gnome exodus, when it emerged that nobody else knew where the pipes went. They work around the clock in hazmat suits with plungers and shovels, and the backlog keeps growing.
"We're doing our best," whimpered Gnorman Gnomington, sanitation engineer, formerly a mushroom-dispensary magnate, as he wrestled a pipe overflowing with brown sludge. "It's like emptying a lake with a teaspoon. The goblins just keep producing more... stuff."
The Council dispatched a team of goblin plumbers, with limited success.
"We've tried everything," said Elder Gnarltooth, pale with disgust. "Magic spells, explosives, a giant mechanical auger. It's like the goblin digestive system has gone into overdrive, which, since the holidays, it has."
The Council has issued a plea: "For the love of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, eat fewer fermented mushrooms and grubs! The sewers are on the verge of collapse!" Goblins are asked to flush nothing but toilet paper and to consider a composting toilet. The gnomes have asked for a bigger teaspoon.
