Batteries Still Not Included

The Flying Things from the '80s are still around.

In the heart of Brooklyn, 2025, the old tenement on 7th Street stood defiantly amid gleaming high-rises. Its cracked facade and flickering neon sign reading "Faye’s Diner" were relics of a bygone era. Inside, Marisa, a young artist struggling to pay rent, served coffee to the building’s eclectic tenants: Carlos, a retired mechanic; Lena, a hacker with a penchant for conspiracy theories; and Frank, the grumpy landlord who’d inherited the place from his mother, Faye.


The city had plans to demolish the tenement for a luxury condo tower. Notices piled up, and Frank was ready to sell, tired of fighting. Marisa, though, rallied the tenants to resist, painting murals on the building’s walls to draw attention. One night, as she worked late on a rooftop piece, a strange hum filled the air. Two glowing, saucer-like creatures—small, metallic, alive—hovered above her. They whirred and clicked, their surfaces shimmering like liquid chrome. Marisa froze, paintbrush dripping. “Uh… hi?”


The creatures, whom she later dubbed Fix and Flick for their knack for repairing and illuminating things, weren’t your typical aliens. They were biomechanical, feeding on electricity and raw materials, and they seemed curious about the tenement. Fix, the smaller one, zipped to a broken satellite dish, absorbing its parts to patch itself. Flick, larger and glowing brighter, lit up the rooftop like a spotlight. Marisa, sensing they weren’t hostile, led them inside.


The next morning, the diner’s ancient jukebox blared to life, fixed overnight. Broken pipes in Carlos’s apartment? Repaired. Lena’s fried laptop? Rewired and faster than ever. The aliens were fixing everything, but they were also hungry, draining the building’s power and causing blackouts. Lena, thrilled to have “real aliens,” hacked into the city grid to siphon extra juice, but it wasn’t enough. The creatures needed more—metal, circuits, energy.


Word of the miracles spread. A viral X post about “Brooklyn’s magic tenement” drew crowds, then developers, who saw a chance to exploit the buzz. Frank, torn between profit and loyalty to his tenants, faced pressure to evict everyone. Marisa, meanwhile, bonded with Fix and Flick, learning they were refugees from a distant world, their kind nearly extinct. They’d been hiding on Earth since the ‘80s, drawn to places like the tenement—old, forgotten, full of junk they could repurpose.


The crisis hit when the city cut power to force the tenants out. Flick, desperate, tapped into a nearby substation, causing a citywide blackout. Drones buzzed overhead, and a shady tech firm, OmniCore, offered Frank millions to hand over the “alien tech.” Lena’s X posts caught the attention of a whistleblower, who revealed OmniCore planned to dissect the creatures for their energy-absorbing tech.


Marisa and Carlos devised a plan. Using Lena’s coding skills, they rigged the tenement’s wiring to channel a massive surge from a hidden generator Carlos had restored. Fix and Flick, now trusted allies, absorbed the energy, growing stronger and larger. At the showdown, as OmniCore’s vans rolled in, the aliens unleashed a dazzling display—Flick projected a holographic mural of the tenement’s history across the sky, while Fix rebuilt the building’s crumbling walls in seconds. The spectacle, live-streamed by Lena, went viral, rallying New Yorkers to protect the tenement.


The city backed off, declaring the building a historic site. Frank, inspired by his mother’s legacy, rejected OmniCore’s offer. Fix and Flick, now part of the family, stayed hidden in the basement, tinkering with old radios and keeping the diner’s lights glowing. Marisa’s murals became a tourist draw, and the tenement stood as a beacon of resistance in a changing city.


Late at night, as Marisa sketched Fix and Flick on the rooftop, she smiled. “You guys are the best neighbors.” They whirred softly, their lights twinkling like stars, home at last.