Dawn of Technology

The enemy was getting closer. 

And closer. 

And closer. 

Clunk. 

Sounds like the dishwasher just lost a plate. 

Closer. 

And even closer still. 

Why were these appliances after me? Moomoo said nothing was strange about her appliances, and neither did Epetet. So why me?

It had started this morning when I had gone downstairs to find nobody there, but the appliances. I had taken a plate out for breakfast, assuming Mom had gone to get something and was putting the plate into the dishwasher when it snapped the door shut, almost taking out one of my fingers. 

I turned, scared out of my mind, to see the laundry machine creeping up behind me, and the refrigerator clacking threateningly. 

My only save was that they were too slow for me, so I had outrun them in my room. 

It had taken them all day to climb the stairs and slowly surround me, but they were getting closer. 

And I was getting more and more nervous. 

They had related to me what they were going to do to me, taking revenge on all the things I had done to them, and it was horrible to realize that they had developed a way of speech. 

In all honestly, it was more of morse code that they clacked out.

Mom was a veteran, she taught me how to understand morse code, so I was able to interpret the appliances’ threats. 

“Human boy, we are coming for you.” Something clacked out. I was willing to bet it was the refrigerator. The voice sounded...meaty. I giggled at the thought, then clamped my hands over my mouth, not wanting to give my position away to the appliances. 

Archie the Great did not shy away from danger. 

Clank. 

Ok but maybe this time he did. 

Just this once. 

“We can smell you, Human boy.” Something else clacked out. Great, now they could smell and speak. My chances of survival dwindled to less than 3%. I moved away from my hiding place and almost sprawled over a walkie-talkie. Aha! My savior. 

I neglected to remember that walkie-talkies are technology. 

It crackled to life without me pressing any buttons and I screamed, throwing it as far away from me as possible. 

I heard a dull thunk and knew I had hit at least something. 

Hopefully, it wasn’t working anymore. 

Archie the Great had a lot of hope. 

A lot.

I didn’t know why all the technology in the house had started to hunt me, but I had a few guesses. Maybe it’s because I never rinse off the plates properly when I shove them into the dishwasher, eager to get upstairs. Or even the fact that I have the dirtiest stinkiest clothes that an eight-year-old boy could have, and shove them into the laundry machine. Or even worse, it’s because I clutter the refrigerator with all my snacks and desserts and leave nothing for any other foods. 

Clank. 

They were coming closer. 

Dang. 

I turned to see Moomoo and Epetet staring at me, and almost wilted with relief. 

“Thank goodness you guys are here,” I whispered, and pointed out the shadows of the appliances creeping closer. “They’re after me,” I added. 

“But if they’re not after us, how are we gonna help?” Moomoo asked, and Epetet nodded. I shrugged. 

“At least don’t let me go down alone?” I asked hopefully. They shrugged and nodded. I smiled gratefully. They may not be much, but my friends at least have my back. 

They’re getting closer. 

And closer. 

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a wrench. Moomoo and Epetet smiled at that. 

“What?” I asked defensively, “They’re appliances so at least one thing can hurt them. Dismantling their power source.” They just looked at me. I sighed and turned around, watching as the first of the appliances rounded the corner. 

All the remotes of the house, oh how the mighty have fallen. 

“We.” 

“Are.”

“Coming.” 

“For.” 

“You.” They said, each individually speaking one word. It took me a minute to realize what they had said. 

“No you aren’t,” Moomoo said, and she launched herself at them, kicking and biting and whacking them. We watched her in awe, but were sidetracked at the sight of the refrigerator came into view. There was a mark on its door where the walkie-talkie had hit it and I was satisfied to see that it was struggling to move. 

The washing machine, the TV, and the wires from the fairy lights that had been strewn across my room were walking slowly toward me. 

I didn’t know how they were walking, but they were. 

Epetet yelled a war cry and threw himself at the wires, and they immediately tangled themselves around him. I saw Moomoo lying on the floor on top of the subdued remotes and couldn’t tear my gaze away from Epetet. 

But when the washing machine lost another plate, it drew my attention. 

“We’ve got you now, Human boy,” The washing machine clacked. I swung my wrench threateningly in front of me. 

“Oh no, you don’t,” I replied, forcing my voice to remain steady, but I failed to see the TV creeping up behind me. With a dull thunk, it rammed into me and pushed me onto the floor. My vision blurred and dark spots covered my line of sight. 

“Why me?” I wailed, clutching at my throat as the remotes of the house jumped onto my prone body, “Why did it have to be m-” 

“Archie! Time for dinner!” My mom yelled, effectively ruining my dramatic death scene. I groaned and rolled over, staring at my stuffed toys spread out around me. Moomoo the elephant flopped over the remotes, and the cardboard box that represented the refrigerator had dents in it from where the walkie-talkie struck it. Epetet the bison was thrown halfway across the room, tangled with the wires from my fairy lights. 

It was a veritable battle scene. And mom had ruined it. 

“Mooom,” I whined, “I was in the middle of something.” 

“Well, maybe you can tell me about it over spaghetti?” She called up. Dang it, she got me there. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” I grumbled, then clambered out of my elaborate pillow and blanket fort, intending to regale Mom with the tale of how her faithful appliances almost killed me.