You can't allow your son to continue his criminal career for another moment longer. You might be poor, but nothing excuses robbing a bank. Jumping to your feet, you stride out of the living room, up to your son's room and throw the door open, bracing yourself for the consequences of confronting your potentially giant child..
"Alright, son, I won't sugar coat this. I saw what you did to downtown on the news. Goddamnit, what the hell were you thinking! People could have been killed. You could have been killed! Or worse, arrested. Do you think I have the money to pay for a lawyer to get you out of jail, huh?!"
You trail off as you stand in your son's room, seemingly alone. You raise your foot to step further inside.
"Wait! Don't step on me! I'm sorry, okay?! I won't do it again, I swear!"
Beneath the shadow of your foot is the minute figure of your son, cowering mere inches beneath your heel. A horrible feeling goes through you at the realisation of how close you were to squashing him.
"Son, what the hell are you doing there? Don't think you can hide from me like that, young man! Hurry and grow up. I have words to say to you."
"I can't!" the mouse-like voice.
"Yes, you can. I saw what you can do on the news."
"No, I mean my powers need to recharge first. I can't change my size until then!"
"Is that so?" you muse, your old knees cracking as you crouch down to his level. He is barely larger than an inch and you struggle to focus your eyes on him, half-drunk as you are. Reaching out, you poke him with finger, sending him tumbling back onto his ass on the carpet. "Well well, stuck are we? In that case..."
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