Al looked distractedly into the fridge. Beer, where’s the beer? Ah, there it is. He reached in and pulled out a cold one. He grabbed the bottle hard and began to twist. Not a twist off, not a twist off, he thought as he went to look for a can opener while shaking the pain out of his hand. After removing the cap, he attempted to toss it in a jar on his counter. "Bird for three," he announced as he jumped into the air and shot it. The cap flew through the kitchen, bounced off the rim, ricocheted off the back wall, and fell into the jar. "Hhhhhhaaaa! And the crowd goes wild." He exclaimed as he ran around the kitchen a couple of times, arms raised high in a proclamation of victory. Al then preceded towards the living room area of his small Detroit apartment. This turned out to be harder than would normally be figured for a short walk of 10 feet. The combination of newspapers, half-empty pizza boxes, bottles, bottle-caps, and miscellaneous sharp things, which Al always ended up stepping on, created a vicious obstacle course, to be undertaken by only the bravest of souls. After finally making it thought The Course, as he liked to call it, Al flopped down into his chair, and prepared for a night of mindless entertainment

***

Molly stood by the stove, towel over her shoulder. She was busy cooking some chicken for Ed and herself, when, out of nowhere, Ed ran in swinging his gun and riding on his wooden horse.

"Mommy, mommy! Look at me, I’m a cowboy!" He exclaimed as he ran charging towards his mother, who was too slow to dodge his insane charge. Although Ed was young, he was no small-fry, and was able to knock his mother into the pan, spilling grease all over the stove.

"Edward!" She, yelled as she began sopping up the grease with her towel. She put the towel down at the same time as she turned around and stated firmly, "Edward, you go to your room right now. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready." Ed began to whimper, which quickly turned into a full blown tear eruption as he walked towards his room. "And no more horsing around either." Molly turned around to find the towel she put down on fire, along with most of the stove.

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed as she turned around, hands clasped over her mouth. "Ohmygod ohmygod got to get the fire extinguisher. Where is it? Where!?" She babbled as she ran around the apartment. "Here it is." She picked up the dusty red cylinder, and ran back towards the kitchen area. She pointed the nozzle at the fire, pulled the pin, and sprayed…and sprayed, well, should have sprayed. Damn landlord, she thought to herself. The fire had got bigger, engulfing most of the cooking area, and was quickly spreading. Molly, being the cool woman that she is, picked up the phone and dialed 911. C’mon, answer the phone. Answer the phone! The fire spread to the living room in a matter of no time.

"Hello, 911, what is the problem?" A woman’s voice answered.

"There is a, a…" She tried to finish as the panic began to overcome her. At this point, she heard a scream. "Oh my God! Edward!" She yelled as she threw down the phone and ran towards his room. When she opened the door, she noticed the room was already partially covered in flames, when the fire had only reached the hallway. She found Ed in the corner, picked him up, and ran straight from his room out the door of the apartment.

"Hello, mam, hello!? Please remain calm…

***

"Did I do that?" Asked a perplexed Steve Urkel. Al let out a hearty laugh.

"Phew," he said as he wiped his brow with his sleeve. "That Urkel is a laugh a minute." Al sank deeper into his chair, and continued to watch, when he smelled something funny. Hmmm, smells like smoke. He shrugged. Ah, someone probably just burned something. After five minutes, the smoke got worse. I better check this out, Al thought to himself as he got up and went towards the door. When he opened it, he saw that smoke had filled much of the hall.

"Fire!" Exclaimed a woman as she ran by Al with a potted plant in her arms. Fire! Oh shit! Thought Al. He ran back into his apartment, and looked for things he should save. I’ll need this, and this, no no no, I’ll need this. Jon’s thoughts quickly changed as he stepped on an empty bottle, and went flying into the air. "Oh shit!" He thought loudly in his head. He crashed onto the floor, pain immediately rocketing through his back. I better clean up this crap when this is over. Al chuckled. Wait, clean, oh no, Mrs. Debockle! She’ll never get out by herself. Al got up, and ran out of his apartment, towards the stairs. After a flight, he felt a short of breath. After two, his throat was sore, and when he finally hit the top, he was winded. He went to apartment 5D and burst through the door. Mrs. Debockle was sitting in her chair, watching Wheel of Fortune.

"Why hello Al, how are you today?" She calmly asked.

"I’m fine, but the building’s not. There’s a fire, and we have to go now, okay?"

"Don’t be silly. I don’t smell anything, and anyway, I’m busy watching The Wheel. See that lady right there? She’s the returning champion for four straight days. She’s got hey! Put me down right now! I’ll tell your mother about this!" She yelled as Al picked her up, and went for the door.

"You’ll thank me later," Al replied as she began to pound on him. Al made down all the steps and out the front door, where everyone had gathered to watch their homes go up in flames. Al put Mrs. Debockle down, and turned to look at the building.

"My baby! Where’s my baby!?" Someone cried. "She’s still in the building! Will someone help me!? Please!" Al stood there for a minute, trying to ignore the lady, as his conscience slowly gnawed at his insides. "C’mon Al, you’ve never been anything special. Always second place. Always stuck sitting next to the punch bowl. Here’s your chance to be someone. Be a man, not a mouse." Al broke.

"Excuse me, mam, what room is your baby in?"

"4C"

"Alright," he said as he sprinted towards the front steps. "Legs don’t fail me now," he quietly pleaded as he lunged through the front door. The building was almost completely engulfed, and the smoke was suffocating. Al put his sleeve to his mouth, and ran towards the steps coughing. Through the blazing inferno he ran, heart pumping in beat with his legs. At the third floor, his body stopped. He gasped for air uncontrollably, only to inhale more smoke and soot. "C’mon asshole, get with it. You can’t give up now. Now it’s not for you anymore. There’s someone up there that needs you. Now get moving!" Al screamed at himself. He took one last breath and sprinted up the last flight. Bursting from the stairwell, he searched madly for 4C. When he found it he kicked the door open and stepped into the living room. He looked around, but saw no sign of the baby. The bedroom, he thought as he turned and moved towards the small hallway as the smoke began to blind him. He entered the room, and immediately looked to the crib. He went over to it, and saw the baby. He picked it up, but noticed that the baby was limp and unmoving in his hands. Oh fuck, it’s not breathing! I ran up here to save a dead baby. Rage began to fill in Al’s vains. "I’m so stupid!" He yelled as he turned and started to run out. He entered the hall, when he heard a cracking noise above him. He looked up just in time to see the burning floorboards falling towards him.