"On a warm summer's day in a small middle of nowhere town, the breeze blew through the leaves making dappled patterns on the forest floor.
Everything was quiet and peaceful. The occasional tourist drifted through the door of the mystery shack, but none stayed long enough to make a purchase.
The residents of the shack were in various stages of sleep, with Stanley snoozing on the living room chair, and Soos snoring against the handle of a mop.
Wendy was the only person truly awake during these dreamlike hours, as she busied herself opening and closing the cash register with it's usual '6.18' displayed on the tiny screen. She counted the money in the drawers and flicked a fingernail against a snowglobe as she sat reading her daily magazine. When she was sure that anyone who could reprimand her was truly asleep, she sat up, glanced around, and started towards the secret ladder reaching up to the roof…"
Shove off Nightfall! You're making this story sound like an ancient Greek tragedy! Let me tell it!
' Wendy walked over towards the ladder that lead up to her secret roof hiding spot. She would sneak up there when work got too boring(which was always). She grabbed the ladder handle and swung herself up onto the first rung, her boot making a clunking sound when it hit the metal. Wendy froze, her eyes darting to the door to see if anyone heard. Luckily, no one came in.
She reached up for the next rung and continued pulling herself up the ladder. Soon, she reached up for the trapdoor and placed her palm flat against the wood, pushing up. The trapdoor flopped open, clanging against the wooden porch. Wendy pulled herself up through the newly made hole in the ceiling to sit on the roof.
To her shock and surprise, there was already someone sitting on the roof. A teen who looked about sixteen was reclining on her lounge chair, sipping a Pit Cola. He had golden wavy hair and matching eyes. Well, eye, as one was covered by a triangular black eyepatch. He wore a black and golden suit that matched his hair and eyes.
Wendy stared at him for a moment before he finally noticed her. He gave her a cool smile.
"What's up Red?" Bill asked, taking another sip of his drink. Wendy simply stared for another moment before slipping back down the ladder into the giftshop. Once her boots hit the wooden floor of the shop, she raced into the living room where she knew Dipper was sitting.
Sure enough, he was laying on a cushion stolen from Stan's chair, watching TV. He looked up when she entered the room.
"Hey Wendy," Dipper said in greeting. His eyes flew to her messy hair, messy from the breeze on the roof. "What's up?" Wendy met his eyes before stating a simple statement.
"Bill's on the roof." '
Ah! You shove off, you ridiculous jester. You're making this sound like a dumb comedy play, like Hamilton or something.
But...Hamilton isn't a comedy.
Ya, well, I am way behind the times, so get off my case.
" 'Wait, what!'
Dipper scrambled off of the cushion, tripping over his feet in his attempts to race to the secret ladder up to the roof. The floorboards creaked under his pounding feet, and he skidded around the corner, only just avoiding the opposite wall by grabbing hold of the door frame to swing himself along.
He leaped into the gift shop and pulled back the patched curtain that concealed the ladder from the rest of the shop. He tugged with such force that he nearly pulled the metal bar down onto his head. But it didn't fall, and he grabbed the first handhold on the ladder. Pulling himself swiftly up the rungs, his socked feet slipping crazily as he went along.
Up and up he climbed, feeling like it was taking an eternity, though it was only a few moments before his hand touched the latch on the trap door. He pulled the lock back, and pushed the door open, sticking his head into the afternoon sun.
'Hiya Pine Tree!' "
No! I will not get off your case! This is supposed to be interesting and funny! Not a guide to how to bore your readers! My turn!
'Bill smiled lazily at Dipper, tossing the can of Pit Cola off the roof. Dipper watched it fall for a minute before turning back to Bill.
"What are you doing here Cipher!?" he screamed, his hands grabbing at his hat and twisting it nervously.
"Relax Pine Tree," Bill said, plucking Dipper's hat out of his hands. "Don't kill your hat over me." Dipper's breathing speed up.
"How are you here?!" Dipper yelled. "Who did you possess or trick this time?!"
"Do you have so little trust in me Pine Tree!" Bill cried out in a mock hurt tone. Dipper raised an eyebrow, no words needed. Bill snorted.
"If you must know, I made this meat sack, no possessing or trickery involved," Bill retorted. He stood up and twirled, his coattails flying out. Carefully, Dipper lowered himself so he could yell into the giftshop.
"Grunkle Ford!" he cried out. "Get the memory guns and the zodiacs! Now!" Bill's eyes widened at those words. He held up his hands in surrender.
"Grunkle Ford!" Dipper yelled again. Bill's face was starting to go pale.
"I'm leaving okay kid!" Bill cried out in surrender. "I'm leaving!" '
Ah, you get all the best parts *sulky face*
Not my fault! We both agreed on this!
Humph, not my fault either. How was I supposed to know I would end up with the intro and running scene! And what's with the "made" when it comes to the meat sack, sounds really creepy and unnatural.
It is really creepy and unnatural! He's a demon for nightmare's sake!
For moon's sake, you are impossible Hourglass!
Quoting Alice in Wonderland, "I have sometimes come to believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast."
Well, quoting John Milton, "Into this wild abyss…"
That doesn't even make any sense!
Well, neither did yours!
Yes, it di-
Well, I just deleted Hourglass off the document. Thank you for reading, and we hope to see you soon!
-P.S. I apologize for the antics of my co-narrator