"How are you feeling, hon? Wilfred asked as he walked into the kitchen, where his wife was rummaging about crockery and cutlery in the sink.

"Fine, fine… I think. It's just… I had to vomit this morning at work. Again. And I couldn't get the gist of certain things that were being discussed during team-meeting. God! I hate that, to not being able to keep up. That's so new to me. They are all just like simple Toyota's and Honda's out there. I should be ahead of the curve. I'm a freakin Maybach!"

"A Maybach with a faltering engine which needs maintenance and more importantly, rest. Don't be so hard on yourself, darling. You've suffered from a severe concussion only recently. It'll take some time before you'll be your old self again. Why don't you take some time off?"

"I still find it weird, though." Emma ignored Wilfred's advice. "There are absolutely no reports, no headlines whatsoever about this earthquake. Nobody I've spoken has heard about it. Are we going nuts here, Fred?"

"Trust me," Wildred grabbed his wife's arms. "this earthquake was as real as it can get."

"But how?"

"These things can occur pretty locally," Wilfred said. "I've seen it on National Geographic once. One gets caught up so violently that it feels like he's living on a lively huge vibro-trainer that just got turned on, while the other, living nearby, is drinking hot coffee without spilling a single drop.

"Not within the range of a single house. Even I know that and National Geographic should know that too."

"What are you doing?" Emma asked as she saw Wilfred grabbing a long drink glass from the cupboard to pour in some Sprite.

"What does it look like? Pouring in some Sprite."

"You hate Sprite."

"It's not for me."

"I hate it too."

Wilfred turned around, facing his wife. "Yeah, well, then there is only one person left to whom I need to give this, am I right?" he said curtly before walking off.

Emma peeked around the corner from the kitchen and saw Wilfred handing his drink over to her daughter – who sat, not entirely surprising, like some dumped sack of flour on the couch in her PJ shorts. Emma's frown sank even deeper when she saw Celeste instructing Wilfred to place the drink on the side table instead of on the coffee table – because that was more convenient to her. Wilfred's trouble to get her a drink was already a kind gesture. So her wish to serve it on the side table instead of on the coffee table was kind of ungrateful. Especially since Wilfred had to stand up again from the couch after serving the drink on the coffee table in the first place. An act like that started to reek like servanthood.

"Ah, bloody! I forgot my drink. And JUST when I'm finally sitting comfy next to my lovely husband." Emma said after slumping down on the couch. She looked at Wilfred, smiling, giving him a meaningful glance that seemed to say, 'would you be a darling and fetch me my drink?'

Emma scowled when Wilfred merely smiled back at her before returning his attention to the television.

"Is it good?" Emma said.

It took a moment before Celeste figured out that her mother was addressing her. She finished her Sprite – taking a long and final swig – before using the back of her forearm to wipe her mouth clean.

"Yes," Celeste nodded. "It's good. Nice and cold. Just the way I like it. Thank you, Wilfred!" she granted him a gleaming smile which he eagerly returned.

"That's good to hear, hon." Emma smiled. "Always nice to know you're being waited on hand and foot. And of course! MTV! Your favorite channel blasting in the living room for all to hear. The party ain't complete without it, right?"

"What are you babbling about, mom?" Celeste scowled.

"Yes, Wilfred, what THE HELL am I babbling about here?" Emma looked at her husband in a way like he knew precisely the thrust of her words.

Wilfred shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. "To be honest, darling, I was wondering the same thing. You're acting kind of odd."

"I am acting kind of?!–" Emma gave a peal of derisive laughter. "You," she pointed at Wilfred. "who is even lazier than a koala on a valium overdose is serving Queen Celeste here like a goddamn, obsequious lapdog and you're calling me odd?"

"He's just being nice." Celeste backed Wilfred. "Which is more than I can say for some other occupants in this room. And what's with this Queen stuff?"

"And you!" Emma aimed her index finger at Celeste now. "slumping on the couch to watch TV, day in day out, like a retired prime minister with a loss of purpose in life. For godsakes, DO something with your life here, Celes!"

"Well, for your information, mom, I'm watching Jackass right now, which happens to be a most educational program about the stupidity of people and the need for laughter in a man's life – which subsequently gets sated by this same stupidity. I mean, look at that guy!" Celeste guffawed while pointing at the screen. "that tree branch must have shattered his nuts!"

"That's just downright sadistic what they do there. And so are you for liking it. Give me the remote." Emma reached her hand out.

Wilfred sat there meekly, sipping his beer as he watched Celeste brazenly ignoring her mother. She continued to giggle about another moronic act being performed on TV that would trigger a surge of vicarious shame with even the biggest rat-brain on the planet.

The remote was lying on the coffee table – out of reach of Emma but within Celeste's.

Emma stood up and right at that moment, Celeste's hand shot out to snatch away the remote. She kept it firmly within her grasp while at the same time ignoring her mother's existence altogether.

"You give that thing here! Right now!" Emma said.

Celeste merely took a full hand of popcorn and stuffed it in her mouth, chomping them away like a famished desert camel which gives a damn about what others might think of his table manners.

"One!" Emma started counting, popping up a finger and raising her voice. "Two!"

"That strategy stopped working when I was like 8 years old. What makes you think it will work now?" Celeste muffled with her mouth full of popcorn without averting her eyes from the television screen. She leaned back even deeper on the couch, getting all comfy while wrapping one leg over the other. Both ladies were utterly unaware of Wilfred's protruded eyes, drooling shamelessly at the sight of Celeste's firm ass showing off its majestic presence in all of its curvy gloriousness as it was pointed in his direction.

"Is this going to be your future now, Celeste? Confined to a life of a TV addict? You think this is going to make you…" Emma stopped talking when Celeste turned the volume ridiculously up.

"This isn't your home, young lady! Turn it down, right now! "

"Will you quit your shouting? I can barely hear myself speaking here!" Celeste snapped.

Emma dashed forward, determined to take the remote away from Celeste.

"Hey! Don't touch me! Ouch! You're hurting me, mom!"

"Give it to ME!" Emma's arms groped about fiercely with the main purpose of stealing the remote firmly clutched within Celeste's grasp.

"You're scratching me, mom! Just get– aaargh!" Celeste leaped up and threw the remote against the wall to smithereens. "There! Now no one gets that damned thing!"

SMACK!

Wilfred looked wide-eyed as Celeste caressed her right cheek after she received a full-out slap in the face of her mother. Her shocked expression quickly churned into a look of approaching thunder. It was a look Wilfred remembered far too well. It made the teen girl appear even more comely than she already was – and more dangerous too, especially with those powers of her. The ground started to shake. An occurrence outside caught Wilfred's attention where he saw several cars shrinking down at the same time. A row of trees followed. People followed. A jogger, an old man with a dog, some kids who were playing on a basketball court – they all started to shrink down at a rapid pace. Wilfred saw even a seven stories high apartment building a few blocks away dwindling in size – vanishing from sight behind some houses. It became a pandemonium in the streets. Emma looked shocked and puzzled as she too started to notice things that were only supposed to happen in cheap movies and fairy tales.

Wilfred walked up to Celeste – whose rage was still building up within her by the look of it. He whispered something in her ear. The trembling stopped. The shrinking stopped. Celeste simmered down.

"You're good?" Wilfred asked.

Celeste nodded. She took one glance at her mother while touching her marked red cheek before marching off upstairs. Outside, everything and everyone returned back to normal.

Emma looked at Wilfred. "W-Wilfred, what is happening here?"