--Bertha Oneshots--

Go to sleep, TOM!

🎉Happy 1st anniversary to Bertha Oneshots!
Thank you all for reading and supporting me in the last year! I honestly wouldn't be doing these if it wasn't for you all. 😊

Raising a child is time consuming, not to mention difficult. It takes years of discipline and time management, not to mention you have to maintain a healthy relationship between your child. Would you assume that Bertha knows what to do when TOM misbehaves? Well...genuinely, that's not always the case. Even as a machine with modernised technology, it doesn't make the job any easier. Little TOM has always been energetic and curious when he got introduced to Spottiswood for the first time, and poor Bertha sometimes can't keep up with him! Eventually, his tampering temper would land him in trouble.

A few hours had passed since the workers had gone home after their shift. The big machine had been left feeling weary after making stacks of children's books for the local library and she was looking forward to resting. The sky's tender gradient of marmalade and honey shifted to a more midnight shade which soon sprouted a layer of pearls, glistening down so people can view the night's beauty. The frigid air outside could not reach the warmth of silence from inside the factory nor could it disrupt Bertha's sleep. Security is working and the local burglars were arrested quickly. Seems like it's going to be a peaceful night.

Then came a light. A big, bright light.

Bertha groaned at the sudden flash in her eyes, moving her arms to cover the glowing rays. It can't be morning already, surely? She hasn't even got one minute of sleep! Bertha looked around the room groggily for the answer to why all the lights suddenly switched on. That's when she knew, whirring from the dispatch department all joyfully and full of energy, was her robot son TOM.

Who taught TOM how to work the light switches? Probably one of her worker friends, but it's of the many questions the big machine wants an answer for, and she hoped that TOM will comprehend that work starts again tomorrow. But young TOM was running around all over the place, swinging his arms up in the air and beeping his little tune. He would rather start work now then sleep the day away; he had even bugged his mother to start making the books at once. Bertha was new to raising a child so instead of telling him off, she politely told him to turn off the lights and go to bed as it's past his bedtime. TOM's eyes blinked with her suggestion and he scurried off from Bertha's view into the dispatch department. The big machine only just sighed. She wished that she had legs too so she can see where he's going. Go to sleep, TOM!

In a more hyper mood, TOM zoomed past each towering stack of boxed books in hopes to find something to cure his boredom. It was as if there are no actual toys here to play with, only boxes, boxes, boxes, tools, tools, equipment and an odd shaped pencil.

Wait..odd shaped pencil? Interesting.

The workers won't allow him to hold or use these peculiar items. They called them 'power tools', but the young robot's wide-eyed circuitry would never calculate what makes them 'powerful'. TOM took a closer look at the strange object, picking it up with his pincer hand. The pencil looked unique, but when he placed the tip on a random sheet of paper, it doesn't draw like a normal pencil would. No lead included, just a slightly smoothed point at the front. Who would need an oblong pencil that can't draw anything and who invented it? This is rubbish!

Soon after bashing it against the desk a few times, it began to make a whirring buzz. The robot stopped. Is that his mother calling him? No. It can't be, she doesn't make that sort of noise. He hit it on the desk again, only to realise that the noise was coming from the object.