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All Hail Dadatron

Father's Day Microfiction

By Michelle Liew Tsui-LinPublished about a year ago β€’ Updated about a year ago β€’ 1 min read
All Hail Dadatron
Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

This is for Mikeydred's June Challenge.

Don't get Dad to fix things--if you want them to work.

Just a little nonsensical slapstick for Father's Day.

To all Dads out there--have a blessed one.

πŸ”§πŸ‘¨β€πŸ”§πŸ“‘πŸ“ΊπŸšͺπŸ€–πŸŒ€πŸ²πŸŽ€πŸ’£πŸ’‘πŸŽ†πŸ‘‘πŸ”§πŸ‘¨β€πŸ”§πŸ“‘πŸ“ΊπŸšͺπŸ€–πŸŒ€πŸ²πŸŽ€πŸ’£πŸ’‘πŸŽ†

My Dad, Ah Seng always staked a bold claim--he vowed, shamelessly, that he could fix anything in the home with the help of his mysterious 'engineering degree' --one we've never seen.

He was in our living room this Father's Day, locked in T.V. battle royale.

"Don't worry," he grumbled, out of breath from T.V, hauling and yanking wires. "It's not spoiled, just emotionally distant."

Mom heaved a huge sigh. "Why can't you use Netflix like us, NORMAL people?"

"Just bonding, it'll work." Dad's cheerful voice rose above the T.V. static. He pressed the remote--

SSS.

The ceiling fan whirred, full blast.

BUZZ.

The microwave sparked.

The neighbour's remote-controlled gate opened.

"Dad, did you turn the house into the Chamber of Horrors?" I asked, ducking a "possessed" Roomba vacuum.

"I just....meddled with some SMART programs. Shiok, right? We manage the whole apartment block."

I peeked outside, and quickly pulled the curtains shut. Cars in the car park honked. Apartments were vibrant disco strobes, with faux radio deejays screeching in the background.

And the neighbours started dancing. To our door.

Dad held the remote --standing tall. "I am...Dadatron."

He pressed another button.

CLICK.

The radio blared--in Ah Seng's voice.

"He-Man."

"The Fixer."

"Touch not my tools."

Dad's triumphant grin said it all. "Inspector Gadget is blushing with shame."

My eyes darted through the room. "Dad... is this place the Chamber of Horrors now?" I desperately tried to duck the possessed Roomba charging at my heels.

We zoomed for the main door --but the Roomba was Dad's sentient guard dog.

Spinning instead of panting.

"Happy Father's Day." He opened his arms wide. "Lunch is activated."

The stove flared. The microwave beeped.

"Not again." The rice cooker groaned, sounding like Uncle Lim's broken Karaoke record looping.

All hail Dadatron.

πŸ”§πŸ‘¨β€πŸ”§πŸ“‘πŸ“ΊπŸšͺπŸ€–πŸŒ€πŸ²πŸŽ€πŸ’£πŸ’‘πŸŽ†πŸ‘‘πŸ”§πŸ‘¨β€πŸ”§πŸ“‘πŸ“ΊπŸšͺπŸ€–πŸŒ€πŸ²πŸŽ€πŸ’£πŸ’‘πŸŽ†

Shiok--Singaporean colloquialism for relaxed/comfortable/enjoyable

Original microfiction by Michelle Liew. AI tags are coincidental.

Microfiction

About the Creator

Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin

Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.

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    Written by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin