Seriously? You are looking to see what's coming down the pipe next? Where are you? Floating on a brown trout in the septic tank, eagerly awaiting the next item to be flushed? Mounted astride a cast-off alligator in a New York sewer, hoping to snag some illicit drugs flushed in a flurry of apartment-raid activity? Comfortably ensconced in a glob of grease at the bottom of a sink trap, anxiously anticipating a lost engagement ring? Leaning your head over a highway culvert after seasonal monsoons, seeking a subcompact vehicle to add to your fleet?
Wouldn't it be more sensible to stand in the side yard, scattering grain from your apron folds to your poultry flock, and glance up at the sound of hoofbeats to see what's coming down the road? The PIKE?
Don't make me frown and stamp my little foot until you see the error of your ways, people. It's "Coming down the pike."