Marco looked down, eyes widening in shock. His bulky, muscular frame was gone, replaced by something far more compact. His once hirsute chest was smooth, and his hands—his large, calloused hands—were now small, soft, and youthful. Marco stumbled to the mirror across the room, staring at the reflection of a wide-eyed 10-year-old boy looking back at him.
“What the—?!” His voice squeaked, and he immediately slapped a hand over his mouth. “No, no, no, no!”
Panicking, he fumbled for the remote, his small fingers barely able to hold it. But nothing happened when he pressed the buttons again.
“Oh no… oh no… Carl’s gonna kill me,” Marco muttered to himself, pacing around the room with his too-small feet. He tugged at his oversized clothes, which now hung off his tiny frame like a tent.
“Okay, calm down, Marco. You can fix this. You’re a grown man… or you were. Maybe Carl can reverse this… if he even believes me.”
Just then, the front door creaked open, and Marco froze. Carl was home.
His heart raced. How was he going to explain this to his son?
“Dad? You home?” Carl’s voice echoed from the hallway, his footsteps approaching the lab.
Marco’s tiny hands gripped the remote as Carl appeared in the doorway, pausing when he saw the little boy standing in the middle of the room. Carl blinked, taking in the sight of the kid in his dad’s clothes, his brain struggling to connect the dots.
“Uh… who are you, and what are you doing in my lab?”
Marco gulped, his young voice trembling as he spoke. “Carl, it’s me… your dad. I-I think I might’ve... accidentally used one of your gadgets.”
Carl’s jaw dropped, his mind racing as he pieced together what had happened. His eyes darted to the remote on the floor, and he cursed under his breath.
“Dad, no!” Carl groaned, snatching the remote and inspecting it. “You weren’t supposed to mess with this. It’s got alien tech in it! I don’t even know what all of it does yet!”
“Well, now you do!” Marco squeaked, throwing his hands in the air. “It turns people into kids!”
Carl let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Great. Just… great. Alright, don’t panic. I’ll figure this out. I’ve got to reverse the settings.”
Marco crossed his arms, glaring at his son—or rather, up at his son, which felt utterly bizarre. “Carl, I’m your father. You need to fix this before I show up at work tomorrow looking like I belong in a fourth-grade classroom!”
Carl winced, suppressing a grin at the sight of his tiny dad’s frustration. “Yeah, don’t worry, Dad. We’ll fix it. But I need to figure out exactly how.”
As Carl fiddled with the remote, Marco couldn’t help but wonder what other secrets his son had been keeping—because this was a lot more than a science project gone wrong.
In the back of Carl’s mind, he knew this was only the beginning. The remote’s powers were unpredictable, and now that his dad had triggered it, there was no telling what could happen next—or who else might get caught in the crossfire.