As Mother stepped forward, the entire kitchen shifted and tilted in Tobey's eyes.
—Creeeak—
The cabinets groaned like the room itself had come alive. Plates rattled. The fridge door swung open with a hollow thud, and chairs scraped against the floor, moved by unseen hands.
The walls stretched. The floor bent. The air turned thick and heavy.
This was no longer a kitchen.
It was a monster's lair.
Right before his eyes, his mother transformed into something out of a nightmare. Her once perfect curly hair turned wild and unkempt. Her clean clothes darkened, stained with an eerie grime. Her glowing red eyes burned with unholy fury, locked onto him like a predator eyeing prey.
Tobey crouched under the table, frozen in terror. His breath hitched. His mind raced.
What had he done to deserve this? Was this his ticket straight to heaven?
"Where are you? Do you want to play hide and seek?—Heheheee…"
Her voice echoed as she crept past the table.
Tobey, hands pressed together in a panic-prayer:
"Oh Lord, show some mercy on this poor soul."
…This child. How does he even know those words?
As he prayed for divine intervention, Mother prowled the kitchen—pulling open racks, scanning every cabinet. Then her eyes landed on a pair of tiny legs sticking out from under the table.
A wicked grin spread across her face.
"You really think you can hide under the table? You can run, but you can't hide from me. Come here, you little brat!"
Tobey whispered to his pocket:
"Mister Cockroach, you stay here now."
Oh crap. She found him.
Now what?
Option one: Run.
Option two: Hand over the cockroach like a responsible citizen.
He crawled out from under the table.
Yes, good choice. Now… just hand over the cockroach and—
Wait.
Why did he stop?
Her eyes locked onto his hesitation.
And then—she lunged.
And Tobey?
HE KICKED THE FREAKING CHAIR AND RAN.
The chair toppled. His mom—mid-sprint—couldn't stop in time.
—THUD!
Down she went.
Poor soul?
My ass.
She's the real victim here.
Only god knows what happens now. Tobey might see John Cena in the afterlife—who knows?
Me? I'm grabbing popcorn.
"Is he really my child?"
Mother groaned, emotionally and physically wrecked.
"How did that little man learn military-grade tactics? Aaa—my back hurts…"
She sat up slowly, rubbing her spine, eyes glowing with vengeance.
"I think today… someone will taste the bitterness of my love."
She cracked her neck.
"This child shall know pain. A mighty run!"
"I dug my own grave. What should I do? Oh yes—let's do this again! First, I'll run out the front door, then sneak back in through the back door, and finally—hide under the kitchen table."
Tobey's face twisted with fear and fire.
Yes.
What do you expect from a five-year-old?
Here we go again.
Mother bolted after him as Tobey flew out the front door.
He was fast—too fast. But she was gaining. Closer… closer…
—SLAM!—
He slammed the door in her face.
Without realizing.
Full cartoon style.
Poor Mother.
Tobey. I hate you for this.
He made a sharp turn, sprinted back inside through the back entrance, and made some noise in the kitchen—just loud enough for his mom to hear.
And just like that—
Mother turned around, storming back toward the kitchen.
Now you're wondering: what was that noise?
You're about to find out.
As Mother rubbed her face from the door incident and stepped into the kitchen—
—SNAP!
She tripped.
—BAM!—
A heavy crash echoed as she hit the floor again, cabinets rattling.
Again.
Why?
Because Tobey the Menace set up a rope trap.
Where'd he get the rope?
Backyard. Obviously.
She groaned. Tobey stared in awe.
Another escape chance.
He stepped forward.
But just as he passed her…
A hand gripped his ankle.
"Sorry, Mom… this is for science."
He pulled something from his pocket—
A sock.
The same one he'd picked up while outside.
And then—without hesitation—he shoved it straight into her face.
—GASP!
A dramatic inhale.
Followed by a weak, pitiful groan.
Her body stiffened.
"I… I should have just gone to the park…"
She was barely conscious.
—THUMP…—
She collapsed. A soft thud.
Defeat.
Mother stopped moving.
…Did she just faint?
Rest in peace, Tobey's mother.
Tobey, hands together in a prayer pose:
"Rest in peace, Mom. This is for science. Now back to cutting the cockroach."
After the boss battle, Tobey returned to his room.
To dissect the cockroach.
Later in the evening…
"Honey, what happened to your beautiful face?"
Father stared at Mother, trying not to laugh.
Her expression was deadpan.
"Nothing… just had a battle against your son."
"Oh my—what he did is awful! Why didn't you scold him?"
Father cleared his throat, pretending to be serious.
"We live in a nation where scolding is illegal."
She crossed her arms with a sigh.
They sat in silence.
Then—
—RRRIBBITTT!—
A sharp ribbit echoed from Tobey's room. The sound was made by Tobey
Mother, eyes widening:
"…Wait. Where did he even find a frog?"
Father, blinking slowly:
"…You mean the cockroach was real?"