Alfred's Day Off

Two things signified the end of the world.  First were the signs of the apocalypse: boiling seas, locusts, and madwomen riding on beasts.  They hadn't had those yet.  But they did get a shock of their lives. 

"Master Bruce, if you don't foresee any particular inconvenience, I should like to take this Sunday off," Alfred said.

Bruce sat stunned first then smiling.  "Of course Alfred.  You can have the whole week off if you'd like."

"Very generous of you, Master Bruce, but one day should suffice.  If you don't need me of course."

"We'll always need you Alfred," Bruce said sincerely, " but I'm sure I can survive one day.  Besides, Sunday is the Superbowl and Dick and Tim are coming over to watch the game."

"Well, if you are having guests, perhaps..." Alfred started.

"Nonsense, what could possibly go wrong?"

***

Bruce stood at the doorway with Tim making sure Alfred left.  The older man already spent the previous evening making sandwiches and other goodies for the guys to enjoy.  He'd given the house the once over and had already delayed his departure over an hour.  Tim brought the car around while Bruce pushed Alfred out the door.

"If you're absolutely certain Master Bruce," he said.

"Positive, Alfred.  Enjoy your day off," Bruce insisted.  Just then Dick pulled up.  Bruce enlisted Dick's help.  "Dick, tell Alfred we can handle things today.  He was supposed to leave over an hour ago."

Dick smiled.  "Alfred, you're taking the day off? And you're still here?  C'mon, I'm sure that between the three of us, we can handle pretty much anything."

Alfred had his reservations, but reluctantly got into the car and drove off.

They ran into the house and raided the rec room.  They had 2 hours until kickoff, so they started watching the pregame interviews.   The Waynetech DSS was working fine, just a little static.  Dick took the dish controls and started fiddling, attempting to get the perfect picture, Tim coaching between handfuls of popcorn.   Then the unthinkable happened:

Video loss, searching for signal.

The whir of the satellite signified its search as Bruce settled onto the couch next to the guys.  "What did you do Dick," Bruce asked, staring at a screen full of snow. 

"Nothing," Dick answered, "I was just tuning the TV and there went the picture."

Tim mumbled through handfuls of popcorn, "Noh worry bou ne TV, s'ok."

Bruce raised an eyebrow.  "Uh, yeah."

The dish whirred a little longer then ground to a halt.  The trio sighed with relief then turned back to the screen.

Nothing.  Just the same snow. 

Tim asked, "Whadyado?"  Bruce half glared at Dick.

"I didn't do anything," he protested.  "Must be something wrong with the dish."   Setting the remote down, he grabbed Tim by the collar.  "C'mon twerp, let's see what we can do."

Bruce nodded and followed them out.  "Let me turn off the power first.
**************
They hopped on the roof and slowly walked to the dish.  The mansion was old so they made sure to step carefully, so as not to fall through the weaker parts.  Though the mansion had had some improvements done, such as a better, more complex security system and a brand new, top-of-the-line sprinkler system in case of fire, Bruce was hesitant to have the roof done at the same time because of the number of people that would have to be on the property.  The roof had to wait.

Sizing up the dish, Dick saw the problem.  "Looks like one of the cables came loose."  He picked it up, studied the dish a bit, then found the port.

"You sure that's the right one?" Tim asked, cautiously. 

"Of course.," Dick answered, plugging it back in.  "See, perfect fit."

Tim nodded then and slowly made his way to the ladder.  Then...

CRUNCH

"Uh Dick?"

"I see ya twerp.  Would it be easier to go through or for me to pull you out."

CRUNCH.

"How 'bout I meet you inside?"
************
Dusty but none the worse for wear, the Tremendous Trio settled back on the couch an hour before the game.  Dick took the remote again and hit POWER.

Nothing. Again.

Tim glared at him.  "Now what'd you do?"

Bruce nodded then.  "Forgot to flip on the main breaker." He stood quickly and left the room.  "Just a sec."

Tim decided to hit the munchies again and started piling sandwiches on his plate.  Dick decided to get his pregame stretches in and went to the glass door, slid it open, and went outside.  The clocks started blinking.

"Power's back."

Dick hopped back inside, grabbed a handful of chips and pressed POWER. 

A split-second later, he and Tim were ducking under the table as the TV burst into flames. 

"Holy crap Dick, NOW what did you do?"  They crawled out and surveyed the damage.  The buffet was a loss, showered with shredded plastic, electronic parts and splinters of simulated oak.  Tim walked outside to check the dish, then came running back inside, grabbing the fire extinguisher from under the bar.  "The dish fell off the roof, now the yard's on fire!" he yelled, moving swiftly through the room.  Dick started to follow him outside when Bruce bellowed "DICK!"

They stopped and stared, in pained realization.  "The Cave."
******************
Actually the cave was fine, but the fuses were blown to the rest of the house so none of the security doors would work.  Bruce was on the phone to Gotham Gas and Electric trying to get emergency service out.  He could fix it himself but all of his equipment was in the cave.  Behind a stainless steel security door.  With double redundancy passcode locks.  That fried with the rest of the wiring in the house. 

Tim did rather well on the fire before he fell into the pool. Then the extinguisher discharged into the water, propelling him into the side of the pool, knocking him a little loopy.  He barely had the strength to pull himself out before collapsing on the deck in a soggy heap. 

Dick used his cell phone and called the only one he knew who could help. 

"Oracle."

"It's me.  We have a bit of a crisis here at the house."

Barbara's eyes widened.  She reached over to activate the JLA pagers.  "What's the problem?"

"Do you have a TV?  It's twenty minutes to ...  Hello?  Babs... hello.... Hello?"
*****************
"Hello?" came the voice over the general background din.

Dick sighed with relief.  "Helena, great.  What's going on?"

"Just at a Superbowl party, great game," she answered.

"Cool.  Listen, I've got a favor to ask."

"Shoot."

"Do you have a TV, and a portable generator?"
*******************
Bruce was sitting on the couch with Tim, who was bundled up in too many blankets.  His wet clothes were drying by the main fireplace, the only real source of heat in the house, save the dozens of candles spread around.  Gotham G&E would be out first think in the morning.

  Dick came into the room, shoulders sagging.  "Well?" Tim asked.

"I don't know,  she didn't stop laughing long enough to answer the question.  By the way, Gotham 7, San Diego 14."

The funk settled more firmly on the trio.
****************
Tim swore this was the last time he would ever try to do a Superbowl party without Alfred.  With their buffet ruined, all they could do was send out.  But because of the increased volume of orders that night, the standard wait was 90 minutes delivery.  Even when Bruce said he'd pay triple for the trouble of bumping him farther up the queue, the wait was still 90 minutes. 

Tim also swore this would be the last time he let Bruce do anything vaguely resembling laundry.  Granted, his clothes were dry.  More accurately, what was left of his clothes was dry.  What hadn't fallen into the fireplace, that is.  The smell of burnt rubber filled the mansion, not the mention the smoke from burnt denim.    The all sat in the main room by the fireplace eating cold Chinese food when they heard the tell-tale beep.  Moments later the sprinkler system activated, just as specified, dousing the trio in fresh cold water.  They sat there, drenched, then looked up as one, then to the door. 

Alfred walked in the foyer slowly, holding his newspaper over his head.  Surveying the house, he turned to Bruce.  In his very dignified manner, he said, "I believe I will take your vacation offer Master Bruce.  I will see you all Friday."  So saying he turned and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

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