"And that's about all there is to say folks; this storm is going to be a monster. Snow fall is estimated to be anywhere from-"

Throwing on his coat as he did so, Larry Daley switched off the buzzing television.

As Larry hooked his flashlight to his belt, he turned attention to his son, Nicky, who was diligently slaving over some homework. "Now, there's some money for pizza there on the counter whenever you get hungry..."

Looking up from the strewn out papers before him, Nicky gave his dad an almost shocked look, he was noting the uniform his dad now had on. "You're ACTUALLY going out in that? Weren't you listening to the news? This blizzard is going to be HUGE."

Zipping up a duffle bag, Larry grinned, talking in a smug, almost know-it-all-manner, "Technically it's a winter storm. So yeah..." He swung the bag over his shoulder and waved a hand towards Nicky. "And besides, I can't just bail on the museum. You know those guys down there need me..."

Nicky just nodded some as his dad strode over, "Still don't think it's that good of an idea..."

Larry patted Nicky on the shoulder, "Yeah well, I can handle a flurry." With that he kissed Nicky square on the top of his head and patted him again on the shoulder. "Love ya, Nick."

Making his way towards the door, Larry shot off another statement, a useless one really but that's just what fathers do, "Be sure to put whatever you don't eat in the refrigerator!"

Nicky didn't even look up from his work. Yet piped up none the less "Got it..."

And with that, Larry was off and out the door.

"Predicted snow fall cannot be given at this particular time due to the continuing growth this storm is experiencing..."

Staring out the Cab's frosty window as it rolled onward through the streets, Larry tried to blot out the radio. This wasn't too hard to do either because the driver, who was a jovial man in a turban, tried to make small talk the entire trip.

Larry kept the conversation two sided with the occasion "Uh huh", "Yeah", or other assorted affirmative filler. Yet in reality the night guard wasn't really paying attention to anything going on in the cab but was instead thinking ahead to the night before him.

When the cab finally reached its destination, Larry paid the driver and thanked him heartily before sliding up and out of the cab.

Taking his cautious time, Larry made his way up the steps to the museum. Getting in too much of a rush would likely result in slipping on the now freezing over steps, certainly not ideal conditions.

Upon his arrival through the doors, Larry was at once flagged down Dr. McPhee, so quickly that is would almost seem like the man had been waiting for him. This wasn't the case though, McPhee was simply on his way out for the afternoon. Wrapping a scarf about his neck, the doctor perked a brow at Larry, "On Earth are you doing here?"

Larry perked his own brow in response, glancing behind him and then back to McPhee, "I um- I work here...for a- couple years now actually..."

McPhee sighed and rolled his eyes, "Yes yes, of course I know that!" he pointed a gloved finger outside, "I'm addressing the particularly precarious and, dare I say, dangerous storm that is already begun to come down upon us."

Giving another glance outside, Larry began to speak again, only to soon be cut off by McPhee, "I don't see what that really has to do- "

"If you stay here, Mr. Daley, you will likely -no! -CERTAINLY be snowed in. Take the night off. We have a security systems for a reason, the Museum can do without you for a night."

Larry pointed to his duffle bag, "Yeah well, I have a couple Nurtigrain bars in here... If I get snowed in I won't starve, if I ration that is..."

McPhee groaned and waved it off, "FINE. Keep to your constant vigil! There's no use even trying to reason with you... Yet when you find yourself snowed in come the morning I won't tolerate any calls begging for help!"

Larry nodded with a faint smile, adjusting the strap of the bag over his shoulder, "I can't help myself, sir. Once I put the tie on it's all business..."

Doctor McPhee was already out for the door, waving off every word that came from Larry now. He didn't even have a verbal response now save fussy noises. Why did he even bother? After McPhee had scaled down the snowcapped steps, Larry turned to cast a look over the main lobby. Pulling back his sleeve, he glanced to his watch...

10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2...

A grin grew on the night guard's face as a growing rumble of noise rose from every corner of the Museum.

The night was young, and thank God for that.