ONE!

Friday stood over the bomb. It was about five feet long and three across. A mess of wires and conduit ran about the thing, and set at the very top was a digital clock. The numbers raced downwards at a speed which was definitely faster than your average time.

"Clever." Said Tuesday.
"What?" Asked Thursday.
"Using an alternate time signature on the timing detonator. It seems to be moving downwards at 8.7639 seconds per standard second."
"What does that mean?" Asked Wednesday.
"We don't have much time!" Exploded Monday. "Jeezus, Friday, would you get cracking!?" Monday paced across the front of the bomb.
"Don't do that." Said Friday, "You're making me nervous."
"Good!" Shouted Monday, "Because I'm nervous. Maybe it'd help move this thing along if some other people got nervous too."
"He's right." Said Wednesday, "We're taking too long."

Friday took hold of a few wires, and looked at where they went. Some blue ones went off to the right, and some white ones went off to the left. Some green ones went down, and a few yellow ones went up. They were all braided with a bunch of black wires, and they all disappeared into the body of the bomb. He examined the blue ones first. Then after a minute of careful observation, he moved to the yellow ones. After another long moment (with the timer moving past the 42 hour mark, and rapidly plunging towards 41) Friday moved aside a small plastic block, and found a second clock.
"insidious." He said.
All four weekdays asked in unison, "What?!"
"There's a second timer on the bomb. This one's just a clock...and it's set for Eastern Standard Time!"

Tuesday stood up from staring down at the bomb, and began a long series of,
"Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck..."
Monday whacked him on the shoulder.
"Stop that!"
"Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck...I can't take it anymore!" He screamed the last bit, and ran off at top speed.

"I guess we all kinda' figured that was going to happen." Said Wednesday. "Just a matter of when." The other weekdays nodded their heads in agreement. Friday looked back down, at the bomb, and continued his examination of the wires that led from the second clock. The same series of blue, white, green and yellow. Some joined their counterparts, others ran into random holes drilled into the bomb-case. Friday looked underneath the device, and saw nearly the mirror image of the top. He stood up, put his hand on the top of it, and leaned on it.

"Whaddaya think? Can you defuse it?" Asked Thursday.
"Well, I don't know," Said Friday, "It's complicated."
"We kind of figured that one out ourselves." Said Wednesday.
"It might help if I could get a look inside." Continued Friday, "Does anyone have a fiber-optic scope?"
"Hold on a sec!" Exclaimed Monday, who ran off.
The three remaining weekdays stood looking at each other oddly...for a moment, when a small bell chimed.

There was a second bell that chimed. A nice chime, like a "G" note on a vibraphone. A second later there was another, then a small squeak. Then a man with dark hair, dressed in a tuxedo walked up, pushing a small fine cart. Upon the top of it was a mirror. On top of the mirror were placed a number of bottles, and a large glass pitcher. As he walked, he struck a triangle, that was suspended from the push-handle of the cart.
"Martini! Martini for sale!" He called out in a rich baritone.

"Kickass!" Exclaimed Thursday. "Martini Cart!"

The three ran over and each ordered themselves one. The tuxedoed man opened a small cupboard in the side, and produced three stemmed glasses. Then pulled out an ice-bucket, and filled the pitcher with it's contents. Then with deft hands he poured the perfect amount of gin and vermouth. He stirred the pitcher, and poured three glasses. The three weekdays drank their drinks quickly, and ordered more. The man went through the routine again.

They were well into their fifth drink - happily chatting and exchanging banter with the martini-cart man, when Monday returned. He had a huge contraption over his shoulder, and pulled an air compressor on two wheels.
"Got it!" Monday cried. "Let's get cracking!"
"Got what?" Said Thursday.
"Jaws of life!" Monday exclaimed. Then he kicked on the compressor, filling the air with a whooshing series of thumps. Then he took the jaws, found a welded seam, and began to crack the bomb apart. Rending sounds of metal and machine filled the air. The others walked up with slight Dean Martin sways, and watched the action.

The jaws of life dug in, and split the case in two halves. Monday pulled back, and smiled. The smile fell from his face, when he saw the others with drinks.
"Hey! Where'd ya get the booze!!?"
The three pointed with their glasses at the martini-cart. Monday dropped the jaws of life, and went to get himself something. The other three looked at the bomb.

"I suppose we should take a look." Said Wednesday, putting down his glass, and grabbing the top. He pulled back carefully, and Thursday and Friday looked in. Inside a number of processors, hard-drives and l-e-d lights flashed. Wires were everywhere, and a number of dangerous warhead-shaped items sat within.
"Dang." Said Thursday, completely baffled by the complexity.
"Yeah." Said Friday, looking around. Inside there weren't just yellow and blue and green and white and black wires, but pink and silver and copper and navy and burnt sienna and mauve and maroon and cream. Making it even harder was the fact that some were spliced together with tiny chrome caps, making it nearly impossible to determine where one wire went, and where three more started.

Friday stuck his head in, and began to look more closely at the electronics. He peered intently for more than five minutes. He only paused to take a sip of his martini. When the glass was completely empty, he stood up. Monday was back, and just in time to watch (with the other two weekdays) Friday move back to the martini cart, and fill up again. He walked back, and looked at the others.

"I don't think we should defuse it." He said quickly.
"But..." Started Monday.
"We're the only ones who..." Interrupted Wednesday.
"Why?" Finished Thursday with a question.

Friday took a drink, and pointed in with his hand, pushing back a hard-drive, a plastic plate, and a mess of wires soldered to a circuit board.
"Here. Read that." And he stood back, waving over the martini-cart guy.

The other three looked in and saw what Friday had pointed out. Inside, stenciled on a chunk of casing were the words: "Party Bomb 2005".
"Fuck." Said Monday. "We can't stop that from going off. This thing's probably circa First of January!"
"Yeah, seems like we'd be doing a disservice to...well, everyone that made it through 2005." Thursday mumbled in awe.
"Besides," Began Wednesday, "It's probably too complex to stop, even if we tried."

"Right!" Said Friday. "And anyways, even if it's not a party bomb, I'm sure wherever we end up is going to be amazing! Let's get more martinis!"

They all rushed the martini-cart guy, who, like a good butler, put up with it.


Happy Friday.