Deep beneath Wayne Manor, where shadows cling to stalactites and the air hums with the quiet power of advanced technology.
It is evening, and Alfred Pennyworth tends to his eternal duties, dusting, organizing, maintaining the domain of the Dark Knight with the same precision he has employed for more decades than he cares to count.
The phone rings and Alfred picks it up, activating the speakerphone so he can continue his work as he talks.
Wayne residence, or the cave rather.
Alfred speaking.
On the other end of the line is Dr. Leslie Thompkins, calling from the Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic where she's finishing up for the night.
Alfred? I hope I'm not interrupting.
Not at all, Doctor.
I assumed you wished to speak with Master Bruce, but I'm afraid he's not here at the moment.
Actually, Alfred, it's you I wanted to talk to.
I have the results from your latest physical.
Oh?
Your health is excellent, for a man of any age really, but you seem run down.
When was the last time you took a proper rest? Most men your age with your means would be comfortably retired by now.
Yes, well, retirement isn't quite in my vocabulary, I'm afraid.
Can you imagine? Me winning a raffle.
But I can't possibly get away.
Would you like to go?
That's very kind of you, Leslie.
I would like to, truly.
It's just... [sighs] To be perfectly honest, I've been feeling rather like a fifth wheel around here lately.
Oh, I handle the shopping, the cleaning, the general maintenance of things, but how important is any of that really?
Stuff and nonsense, Alfred.
Deep beneath Wayne Manor, where shadows cling to stalactites and the air hums with the quiet power of advanced technology.
It is evening, and Alfred Pennyworth tends to his eternal duties, dusting, organizing, maintaining the domain of the Dark Knight with the same precision he has employed for more decades than he cares to count.
The phone rings and Alfred picks it up, activating the speakerphone so he can continue his work as he talks.
Wayne residence, or the cave rather.
Alfred speaking.
On the other end of the line is Dr. Leslie Thompkins, calling from the Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic where she's finishing up for the night.
Alfred? I hope I'm not interrupting.
Not at all, Doctor.
I assumed you wished to speak with Master Bruce, but I'm afraid he's not here at the moment.
Actually, Alfred, it's you I wanted to talk to.
I have the results from your latest physical.
Oh?
Your health is excellent, for a man of any age really, but you seem run down.
When was the last time you took a proper rest? Most men your age with your means would be comfortably retired by now.
Yes, well, retirement isn't quite in my vocabulary, I'm afraid.
Can you imagine? Me winning a raffle.
But I can't possibly get away.
Would you like to go?
That's very kind of you, Leslie.
I would like to, truly.
It's just... [sighs] To be perfectly honest, I've been feeling rather like a fifth wheel around here lately.
Oh, I handle the shopping, the cleaning, the general maintenance of things, but how important is any of that really?
Stuff and nonsense, Alfred.
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