*pulls the door open and hears the unmistakable sounds of rushing and trickling and lapping* No. It isn't off. *a little tightly* I'll take care of it. Get to the Harp and check in with me from there.
*hangs up the phone and trots down a few steps before it occurs to him (and he couldn't tell sooner because the fluorescents are flickering, probably shorting out from leaking water) that the floor is moving*
*stands stock-still where he is, clutching the railing as tightly as his chest is constricting, as furiously as his heart is pounding from the sight of his basement—flooded*
*calls down the stairs (because he can't move again just yet), soundlessly at first, then finding his voice* Wh- Who's down there? Trouble with the valve?
*hears no response but the water's uneasy whispers*
*has just enough time to process sharp pain somewhere down in his legs before they're ripped out from under him and he tumbles headlong down the stairs*