Darwin had just settled into his recliner, his freshly repaired knee wrapped in ice and dignity, when his dog Lucy hopped onto the couch and cleared her throat.
“Alright,” she said. “We need to talk about Rodrigo.”
Darwin stared at her.
Lucy stared back.
“…You’re talking,” Darwin finally said.
“Yes. Focus, Darwin. Your step-son Rodrigo is an alien cyborg.”
Darwin blinked twice. “Well… that explains the microwave incident.”
Lucy nodded. “Exactly. His processor was damaged when he crash-landed on Earth. That’s why he puts cereal in the fridge and milk in the cabinet.”
Darwin leaned forward. “And the time he tried to charge his phone by holding it up to the sun?”
“Solar calibration attempt,” Lucy said.
“Hmm.”
Lucy jumped down and led Darwin—slowly, because of the knee—to Rodrigo’s room. On the desk sat a laptop, six alarm clocks set to different time zones, and a toaster plugged into a power strip labeled ‘Auxiliary Energy Intake.’
Darwin sighed.
“Lucy,” he said, “I married his mother ten years ago and he once tried to reboot the washing machine with a screwdriver and a salad fork.”
Lucy tilted her head.
“So… you knew?”
Darwin shrugged.
“I didn’t know he was an alien cyborg,” he said. “But I knew something wasn’t running the latest software.” 🐕🤖
All images taken with my one plus 7 pro
