This one isn't exactly a deleted scene. I just couldn't fit it into the story what with all the other action happening. But it is very funny and I couldn't stand not posting it. You will probably need to read the end of "Last Chance" and the beginning of "Second Chances" to completely understand what happened to bring them to this point, but it is enjoyable even without it, I think. It would have "fit" somewhere in chapter 4 of "2C".

Second Chances - "The Exterminator"

No Warnings - Rating "K+"


"How soon can you begin?" Alfred eyed the exterminator in front of him.

The man had had the run of the house for the past three hours with Alfred or another family member tagging along behind him. It wouldn't do for the man to accidentally discover an entrance to the Batcave during his survey. Certainly he would have come up with a reasonable estimate in that amount of time.

"You don't want to know how much it will cost?" The man in the tan outfit asked.

"It is more important to be rid of these pests as quickly as possible," Alfred told him.

"Oh, well, as best I can tell, about four months from today," the exterminator flipped through some papers on his clipboard.

Alfred blinked in dismay. "Four months?! Oh my, but that is unacceptable. We need someone to come in tomorrow at the very latest."

Harry, the man's name was sewn onto his shirt pocket, pushed his glasses up on his nose as he considered the very proper fellow in the monkey suit. "Hey, sorry, bub, but a lot of people have been having problems with pests this time of year. They like to come in out of the cold, you know?"

Alfred sniffed at the idea that the Manor had to deal regularly with the influx of insects.

"I'm sure I wouldn't know," he assured the man.

Harry shrugged. "Anyway, we also have regular clientele that have appointments in the spring, and with a place this large . . ." He pushed his hat back on his head as he looked through those papers a second time. "Yup! Four months is the best I can do for you. You want me to pencil you in?"

The butler pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead. "Oh dear, this is terrible," he muttered to himself. "No, I think not. I will have to look into other means in which to clear the crickets out of the house."

"Heh! And this is some house," the exterminator snorted, glancing around at the designer-inlayed marble floor and the Viennese crystal chandelier dangling above them. "You're welcome to try our competitors if you want," Harry offered.

"Indeed," Alfred said, tucking the handkerchief back into his pocket. "I'm afraid you were our last hope. I've already exhausted all of Gotham's means for ridding the small beasts."

"Ah, that's too bad," Harry sympathized. "There hasn't been a very good crop of new exterminators into the business in recent years. Guess not many are up for the challenge. Go figure," he said as he picked up his bag and moved toward the front door.

"Yes," Alfred stepped in to open the door for the man to exit. "It is baffling, to be sure."

Once assured that the exterminator's van had cleared the gate, Alfred headed toward the master's study with his grim news; a chorus of chirping accenting the click of his shoes on the tile. The humor of the situation had dimmed over the course of the past two days, unfortunately. He had found three in his kitchen that morning.

He briefly entertained the idea of getting a few more tarantulas to deal with the infestation . . . very briefly, however. He could see how that would lend itself to an assortment of other problems. Certainly, if he put his mind to it, Alfred thought, he might come up with another possible solution.


Oh dear . . . And honestly, this is part of why we love Elle and her contributions to the Bat Family! :D