And this works how?

Last night our big fan blew a bearing.  This is a major calamity because I am really heat sensitive and the fan sucks the heat out of the house every night in the summer.  This makes living  here possible because I can't  sleep at night when I am hot..  I hauled a ladder up into the hall and investigated.  I could understand that something was wrong but I couldn't tell what or why. it wasn't obvious from below the fan blades
 Then I hauled a bigger ladder up the stairs and opened the crawl hole and clambered up into the dark hot pit of the upper attic with a flashlight that would turn off at whatever the most inconvenient time could be, and investigated further.  It turns out as best I understand it, that there is a bearing race that needs replacing above the fan blades, not the one in the motor thank goodness.
I climbed back out and reported this to Mr Footless who then announced that he would climb up there in the morning(!) and take it apart to get it fixed.
I said "No."
Mr Footless said a number of things about how I was being obstructive and some other things about how I was being mean and I told him that It didn't matter what he thought, I wasn't going to cooperate with him getting up in the attic.
Moving on to today.
I got a call from Mrs. Poke the Crazy, A friend who I do like a lot, but who finds poking crazy people irresistible.  (Then she can't quite understand why her efforts to make their lives better isn't better received.  After all she does know how this is all supposed to go.)
 Mrs PTC had an exhaust fan which she offered me as a good substitute for my long working dearly loved attic fan.  I said yes, thanks, and she brought it over.  I gave her a glass of iced tea and we had a nice chat about the latest set of crazy she is busy poking, and she admired my new room and we went on our ways.
So later in the day as I am working on the huge mess in room #2 and taking things into room #1 and arranging them and getting ready to move the computer (not a job for the foolish or the faint of heart I might add) Mr Footless comes up the stairs with the big ladder and sets it up in the hallway of room #1 and then orders me to help him get up in the attic.
I said "No."  Then I carefully explained that Getting him up in the attic was a sure way to get both of us hurt and I wasn't going to have anything to do with it.
Mr. Footless has informed me that he will be getting up in the attic with or without my help tomorrow morning.
I told him to be sure to wear his lifeline so that when he came to grief he could call for help.  He was grossly offended. 
Tomorrow he may

• climb up into the attic and most likely have a problem
• wait for me to get home and then do it
• forget about it and do something else entirely

I can hardly wait to see.