It was a typical morning at the Johnson household. 23-year-old Sara got up and began her daily routine - showering, dressing, and heading to the kitchen to make some coffee. As the aroma of freshly ground beans filled the air, she heard the clattering of dishes from the other room.

"Piss off, you old fool," Sara muttered under her breath as her father, John, rummaged through the cupboards. He was always getting in the way, and she grew more and more irritated every day.

Lost in thought, Sara nearly dropped her mug when John suddenly appeared in the doorway, his wrinkled face inches from hers. "Good morning, dear," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I see you're your usual cheery self."

Sara recoiled in disgust, her nose wrinkling at the stench of his morning breath. "Just get out of my way," she snapped, shoving past him to pour her coffee.

As she turned to leave, something caught her eye on the counter - a small, innocuous-looking device that she instantly recognized. Her heart raced as realization dawned on her. This was the shrink ray she had been working on for months in secret, squeezing every spare moment of research into her off-hours. And it was finally complete.

A wicked grin spread across Sara's face as she picked up the device, her mind already racing with possibilities. There was only one thing holding her back from unleashing her true nature on the world - her father.

With a flick of her wrist, a blinding green light filled the kitchen. John let out a terrified yelp as he felt himself shrinking down, down, down until he was no larger than a cockroach scurrying across the linoleum.

Sara laughed, a cold, cruel sound. "Enjoy your new perspective, old man," she sneered, reaching down to pluck him up between her fingers. She carried him to the door, opening it just a crack and flicking him onto the floor.

"No more getting in my way," she whispered, savoring the fear that radiated from his tiny form. "Now the world is mine..."

But Sara's moment of triumph was shattered by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching from the hallway. Her grandmother, Mabel, tottered into the kitchen, her clogs clacking against the floor.

"Oh, good morning dear," Mabel greeted, distracted by pouring herself a cup of coffee. She shuffled to the table and plopped down, not noticing the minuscule figure writhing on her path.

Sara watched in horror as Mabel's clog came down directly on top of her shrunken father. There was a sickening crunch and John's terrified screams cut off abruptly. A single droplet of blood oozed out from beneath her grandmother's shoe.

Mabel blinked, confused, as she felt a slight resistance underfoot. "What was that?" she wondered aloud. Sara just shook her head, a manic grin splitting her face.

"Nothing, Grandma," she said breezily. "Just a little bug

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