Things that are falling apart II

Some might remember that I tried to insulate the kitchen. After all of the material arrived (seems to have been a matter of renaming the stuff without telling the staff) and had their drying time—just while I pondered whether it is dry enough to put on the fine-cast a breath of ozone came upon and reached my nostrils. Still looking for the whereabout of such a nasty smell the faint but distinct noise of electrical discharges resonated within the wall behind the newly laid insulation. To say that I uttered some curses that would have made an old midwife blush would be inadequate to describe the choice of my words but the wall had to be ripped open. And so I did. With hammer and chisel I ploughed my way through the brickwork, looking for the source of the unwelcome odor and—Lo and behold!—it was found:

Molten Copper

Molten Copper

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