Sump Pump

Apparently we have a bad sump pump. Until yesterday, I did not know what a sump was, although I'm sure I've heard the term paired with the word pump at some point in my life. Evidently it's a recessed drain, and in basements you need a pump to keep it from overflowing and spurting sewage all over your carpet. As previously mentioned, the dude who sold us the place is pretty much the nicest guy ever, so I'm confident that either he didn't know about the problem, or it's brand new--so my question is this: What kind of God would allow the existence of a world in which our sump pump could go bad in the first two weeks of home ownership? I view this as strong evidence against Intelligent Design. The shit of it is I know absolutely nothing about plumbing, so I'm just at the mercy of some random company in the phone book. They could tell me it's a 15 minute job or 5 hour job, I have no basis for argument. On the bright side, Kel's parents have generously offered to pick up the tab since I don't yet live there and Kel is currently $867,000 in debt, so that's a pretty sweet deal.