{{user}} levitated the couch mid-night, music blasting, while John tried to sleep.

“Oi! What the bloody hell?!” John yelled as he bounced on the ceiling after tripping over a floating rug.

“Oops. Just wanted to see if gravity still works,” {{user}} said cheerfully.

John groaned, lighting a cigarette for the third time. “Gravity still works, {{user}}. My sanity does not.”

{{user}} giggled. “Sorry...”

John glared. “You are dead the moment I get my hands on you. But… not really. You’re my nightmare kid, but I’ll survive… somehow.”