Marco picked up the strange remote, squinting at the glowing alien symbols. He had no idea what it was for, but his curiosity got the better of him. His thick thumb pressed down on one of the buttons without a second thought.
A sudden pulse of energy shot through his body, and Marco’s eyes went wide as a bright light enveloped him. He dropped the remote, his heart pounding as his body began to tingle—then shift.
At first, the sensation was subtle: a faint buzzing under his skin. But then he felt it—his muscles tightening, his body shrinking. The bulk of his frame began to melt away, his thick arms slimming, his gut retracting as his sturdy chest flattened. His once strong, hairy hands grew smoother, more youthful, as if time itself was unwinding inside of him.
He gasped as the hair on his chest receded, the graying strands on his head darkening back to a deep, youthful black. The aches and stiffness in his back vanished, replaced by an unfamiliar lightness. His construction-calloused fingers softened, the feeling in his body shifting from the weight of a grown man to something leaner, looser—like a teenager’s.
Marco stumbled backward, hands gripping the edge of Carl’s desk as he watched his reflection in the mirror. His face, once rough with age and experience, smoothed out before his eyes. The thick lines on his forehead disappeared, replaced by the fresh, eager face of a teenage boy no older than 17. His chest heaved as he touched his face, disbelief flooding his mind.
“What the hell—?!” His voice cracked, and his wide-eyed reflection stared back, the voice not matching the burly dad he was used to seeing in the mirror. Instead, it was the high-energy voice of someone young, unburdened.
But even as the initial shock hit, Marco felt something… shift inside him. There was an unfamiliar surge of energy coursing through him—restlessness, excitement. He tried to grip the desk tighter, tried to stay calm, to keep that mature, grounded perspective of the man he still thought he was.
“I’m still Carl's father. I’m still a man,” he muttered to himself, his young voice brimming with tension as he struggled to stay composed. But it was getting harder. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, a strange giddiness rising in his chest that he hadn’t felt in years. There was something almost thrilling about the sudden youth in his body, the electric energy that hummed under his skin.
Marco shook his head, trying to shove those thoughts away. “No… I need to act like an adult. I’ve got responsibilities…” He clenched his fists, but instead of feeling serious or mature, he felt this uncontrollable urge bubbling inside him—a need to move, to laugh, to do something.
When he heard Carl’s footsteps approaching the lab, something strange happened. The part of Marco that had been trying to act like a responsible, grown man slipped away. Carl wasn’t just his son anymore. He felt like his… best bud.
A big grin split across Marco’s face as Carl appeared in the doorway. “Yo, Carl! Check this out, man!” Marco spread his arms wide, showing off his new teenage form, the excitement clear in his voice.
Carl blinked in shock, staring at the boy in his dad’s clothes, his eyes narrowing. “Wait—Dad? Is that… you?!”
Marco laughed, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Yeah, bro! Crazy, huh? I dunno what happened, but this thing—” He gestured wildly at the remote. “—turned me into, like, a teenager or something!”
Carl’s face paled. “Dad, this is serious! You shouldn’t have messed with that thing. It’s got alien tech! You could’ve been hurt!”
But Marco just shrugged, still bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Ah, don’t worry, dude! I feel awesome! Like I could run a marathon or hit up the gym. We should do something cool, man—come on, let’s go!”
Carl’s eyes widened in disbelief. His dad—the man who had always been the hardworking, grounded rock of his life—was acting like a hyperactive teenager. “Dad, calm down. We need to figure out how to reverse this.”
Marco, though, barely heard him. The pull to act on his impulses, to do something fun and reckless, was too strong. His mind kept racing with ideas. “Nah, let’s not worry about that right now! Hey, you wanna go hit the arcade? Maybe shoot some hoops? You’re pretty good at basketball, right? We should play!” He beamed, nudging Carl with an elbow, his energy infectious.
Carl rubbed his temples, exasperated. “Dad… this is a problem. You’re not supposed to be a teenager! You’ve gotta be an adult, remember?”
But Marco just grinned wider, his youthful energy overflowing. “Dude, you’re killin’ the vibe! We’ll figure it out later. Right now, let’s go do something awesome. I feel great, Carl! I feel like we could be best buds, just hanging out, like back in the day… but better!”
Carl sighed deeply, holding up the remote and inspecting the buttons. “Okay, okay… let’s fix this before you convince yourself to get a skateboard or something.”
But as Carl worked, Marco couldn’t stop bouncing on his toes, full of nervous energy, looking at his son with a playful gleam in his eye. Suddenly, responsibilities felt like the last thing on his mind—because hanging out with Carl, his new best bud, was all that really seemed to matter.