Hans pulls off the tarp revealing the yellow and wood-paneled glory of the '74 AMC Matador wagon that is the Gudmobile.

"Hans, hook up the big cable to the port under the license plate."

Hans follows the orders and hooks up the huge cable. "What's it for boss?"

"Power. I replaced the engine with a fusion reactor. It takes a lot of power to start it up. Oh, never turn off the engine while you're driving it, it can't start without a rather large external power source. Now get in and turn the ignition when I give the command."

Hans gets in with a little hesitation and sticks the key in the ignition. "Fusion, huh?"

"Yeah, very environmental and loads of torque." I flip the big metal lever that puts the Matador's reactor in circuit with the city's power grid. Once again I reget not finishing the work on the new castle reactor that would have enough power for this job. "Okay, crank it!"

Hans turns the key. The lights flicker and go out for a couple of seconds. They flicker back to life. A low hum emits from the Matador. I spy a red light the garage console.

"Hey computer, what happend?"

The ignition sequence overloaded the city power grid. The castle is now operating on the internal reactor.

"So did that cut power to the holographic controller?"

Affirmative. No part of the city power grid is currently on-line.

"Hans, turn the car off. Looks like our problem is solved."

Um. It seems dark.

Hey, where'd the lights go? Guys? Guys?

aaaawrooooooo.....

I think I hear a grue.

Just as I'm getting ready to go over to the bar for the evening, the phone rings.

"Hey, boss?"

"Hey, Phred, what's up?"

"The power's out down here. You want me to keep the place open, or what?"

"No kidding?" I've got all the electricity I need, thanks to the midget fission reactor down in the basement. I look out the window, and notice that there are no lights showing from any of the neighboring houses. "Looks like power's out here, too. Huh. Okay, keep the place open. It probably won't be out for long. I'll over over in about fifteen minutes." I hang up, then head into my office, straight to the gun safe, and grab the AR-15 and a couple of clips of ammo. There's probably nothing sinister about the blackout, but it always pays to be prepared.

Hans pulls off the tarp revealing the yellow and wood-paneled glory of the '74 AMC Matador wagon that is the Gudmobile.

My mom had one of these when I was in college. I liked it.

"Well, I know you can see in the dark, but I can't." Cat purring on my shoulder sounds smugly self-satisfied.

"Oh, don't even tell me it's not dark. I know dark. Ow." I bark my shin on ... something hard. "Dammit. This is dark."

Oh, good, dark. I pull the purple (well, it was before the lights went out) velvet comforter over my head, push the cat off the pillow, and go to sleep. Let ita cope. She always does.

I'm walking down the street, and it's really not that dark out. The fog's finally gone, and soon the moon will rise, and since it's just a bit past full, there'll be plenty of moonlight. There are other folk walking about, some carrying lanterns or flashlights, and there's less a sense of foreboding than there is one of "Hey, you can really see the stars tonight".

You won't be able to see the stars if you get eaten by a grue.

I mean, that's just what I'm thinking. Meanwhile, still seems dark.