Story the First: Taking the Bucket

Before we begin, allow me to introduce myself. I am Walrus, and Walrus is me. Along with my below-posted co-conspiritor in blog-authorship, I attended a well known liberal arts university. The story I am about to relate concerns one of my associates during Sophomore year. In accord with our stated policy of thinly disguised names for the protection of the innocent, the guilty, the insane, and likely-to-threaten-with-legal-action, this bastion of learning shall be known as PCU, and he shall be known as Gabriel.
At PCU, the Residential Life office in general, and the housing selection process in particular are irritating monstrosities. The vagaries thereof, and travails of myself and mine as a result will likely be the subject of many stories yet to come. For the moment, suffice to say that four of us ended up in two double rooms at either end of the hall in an aging and poorly maintained house.
Following some heavy snowfall, Gabriel returned to his room to find that his roof had sprung a leak, and water was dripping onto his desk. Since said desk held his computer, his papers, his books, and all manner of other possessions subject to water-damage, he was understandably perturbed. Once he got over being perturbed, he decided that something had to be done. He went forth into the hallway and procured a bucket. You know the sort - large, gray, and made of a rubbery plastic. Also did he obtain duct tape, and several black plastic garbage bags. Of these, he fashioned a chute to convey the water from the leak in the ceiling unto the bucket. The immediate issue (water falling on desk) being dealt with, he called PCU Physical Plant department. These folks might reasonably be expected to repair damaged buildings, he supposed.
As it turns out, PCU Physical Plant is some combination of lazy, incompetent and/or inefficient, and for several weeks their response is easily summarized as 'none whatsoever'. It was a wet season, and the snow and rain continued to fall every few days. The leak continued to do its thing, and the bucket-and-chute contraption likewise continued its function. Finally, when we'd given up on any official reaction to the issue, an agent of Physical Plant arrived at Gabriel's room. This gentleman, by sight, differed from the standard janitor in one important particular - he was the proud owner of a bulky walkie-talkie.
Upon entering Gabriel's room, said communication device is immediately in his hand, and into it he says, "Yep, I'm here. Shouldn't take long."
He surveys the bucket contraption and opines to Gabriel thusly: "Pretty nice setup you got here."
Gabriel responds that yes, it probably is, and is there anything he, the janitorial sort, could do about it?
The fellow contemplates the bucket a bit longer, and then responds in the affirmative. Out comes the walkie-talkie (clearly this man's most prized possession). He says this into it: "Yep. I'm taking the bucket. All right."
Gabriel is probably convinced he misheard, but the man goes to the bucket, carefully peels off the tape holding it to the chute, and begins to lug it out the door. About halfway through the door, he turns back and, in the spirit of one who has had an epiphany, says "You know, when it rains next, that's probably going to leak again." And then he leaves.
Ever afterward, among those of us who know this tale (yourself now among them, esteemed blog-reader!), the phrase 'taking the bucket' has meant "'Solving' a problem by making it worse, in the most bizzare manner possible". We encourage you to use it when you think it is needed.