Oswald

Once Ed is gone, I get another pair of soft flannel pajamas out of his dresser. I don't think I'll be able to stand for very long, so I decide to take a long hot bath instead of a shower. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I undress. I look awful; circles under my eyes despite a good night's sleep and my face paler than usual. I sigh as I sink into the tub as it fills. I know the heat will feel marvelous on my bad leg...

I don't remember falling asleep, but I must have. The water is no longer warm; in fact, it's freezing. It's also still running. As I turn it off, I become aware of a new sound: somebody pounding on the front door and muffled yelling. I reach for the bathrobe hanging on a hook behind me. Surely Ed won't mind me borrowing it. When I get out of the tub to wrap the robe around myself, the bath mat squishes under my feet. The surrounding floor is wet too.

I carefully walk across the slippery tile and open the bathroom door. The hardwood floor in the main room is more than a little damp too. Over the pounding, I can now make out a woman's voice.

"Ed! Ed! Open this door!" she shouts shrilly. "I know you're in there! You're gonna pay for every last bit of this!"

I realize with horror what must've happened while I was taking my nap. I manage to reach the front door without falling and look through the peephole. The woman looking back at me might be a striking creature when her face isn't blotchy from anger. She's on the short side of average, her long dark-blond hair tied in a ponytail, icy blue eyes narrowed slightly. I imagine her working as a receptionist in her mid-range business-casual pants and shirt.

"Finally, there you are!" the woman continues shouting as I open the door. "My entire apartment is-" She stops yelling and stares at me. "You're not Ed..."

I chuckle. "That I'm not, madam, but I'm sure I can help you. Did you come over to borrow a cup of sugar, perhaps?"

"No, I didn't," she says angrily. "Someone in this apartment overfilled the tub and now my entire living room is flooded!"

"Oh dear!" I exclaim. "Why, I'm terribly sorry!"

"Oh, you're gonna be sorry, all right," says the woman. "Cause you're gonna pay for all of my stuff that you ruined!"

"Actually, I don't live here." I say. I chuckle nervously again. "At least not all the time. Perhaps I could get Ed on the phone for you, Miss..."

"Lemansky. And do that!"

I shuffle over to into the kitchen and dial the phone.

Ed

My cell phone starts ringing. A glance at the caller ID tells me it's the landline in my apartment. Truthfully, I'm not sure why I still have it. I never seem to find the time to get it disconnected.

When I answer, I hiss, "I told you not to call me at work! What do you want?!"

"There's some woman here that wants to talk to you. She's very angry."

"What?! Why?"

"Well..you see, I fell asleep in the tub, and it-" He gives an irritating laugh. "Well, it sort of flooded her apartment."

This is the first time I'm aware of even having a downstairs neighbor. I may be a very observant man, but I also keep to myself.

"She wants you to pay for the damages." Mr. Penguin explains.

"You're the one that's going to pay for this!" I inform him.

"But I can't! My empire has fallen!" Mr. Penguin cries.

"Not this again." I was sure I only thought that, but the words tumble out of my mouth.

"I heard that!" he shouts indignantly.

"I meant for you to hear me, Mr. Penguin. Now-"

"Here she is..."

"What?" I say. "No, don't put her on the phone! Do not-"

Too late. The woman introduces herself. "Mr. Nygma, this is Sydney Lemansky."

I almost laugh. Why must parents curse their children with names that rhyme or are puns?

"What can I assist you with, Miss Lemansky?" I ask in an all-too-bright voice.

"I have to leave for work and I'm covering a tour way the hell out in Arkham today, so I'm gonna make this quick."

I only know of two groups of people in the city who refer to their work schedules in the city as "tours": GCPD and FDGC. Given the disproportionate ratio of male to female firefighters, I infer that she's the latter. This possibility is frightening.

"Your, uh, roommate here flooded my entire apartment. You're going to pay for all the damage!"

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," I say. I'm not half as sorry as Mr. Penguin will be later.

"You oughta be! Do you know how long it took me to save up for that flat screen?" asks Miss Lemansky.

I mentally calculate the average GCPD salary minus the cost of living. "Approximately 13 weeks. Less, assuming you went shopping on Black Friday."

"You're not funny, Ed!"

"I wasn't trying to be, Miss Lemansky," I say truthfully. "Again, I am terribly sorry about what my...roommate did. Just put the bill in my mailbox, and I promise I'll take care of it."

"I normally work night tour, so I'll send my brother by with the bill."

I can't stop myself from gulping. Having a GCPD badge doesn't necessarily exclude one from being on the fringes of certain Gotham 'families.' "Your brother?"

"Yeah, my brother. He's a detective, too."

Wonderful.

"The old family business, huh?" I ask, trying and failing to hide my nervousness.

"Anyway, I really gotta get to work." says Miss Lemansky. "I'm gonna let my brother know what happened and he'll be by later with some receipts. You got any questions for me, call the Arkham precinct and ask for Detective Lemansky. You got all that?"

"Certainly," I say. "My roommate will be home all day. Can you put him back on the phone, Detective?"

"Oh yeah, sure." she says.

"I'm back!" Mr. Penguin cries in my ear.

"Yes, I know, Mr. Penguin." I say in an irritable whisper. "Why did you let a detective in?!"

"Well, I didn't know! And I didn't let her in! I just-"

"Yes, well, now we have a new problem. What are we going to do about her brother coming by?" I demand.

"I don't know!"

"Well, this is all your fault, so you better think of something," I say before hanging up.