Goodnight, Goon

(Not in my usual continuity, but written for Wendip Week 2018 for the prompt "Bedtime Story")

Goodnight, goon!

Goodnight, loon!

Goodnight to the Mystery Twins who defeated you in June.

Goodnight, gnome.

Goodnight, home.

Goodnight Journal 3, you're a grand old tome.

Goodnight scam!

Goodnight wham!

Goodnight, Grunkle Stan, twice as strong as a ram!

Goodnight, sword.

Goodnight, bunker hoard.

Goodnight to the author, our great-uncle Ford!

Goodnight, Mabel.

Goodnight, table.

Goodnight, something that rhymes with Shnable!

Goodnight, Wendy

Goodnight, friendly.

Goodnight in my bed (this could get trendy!)

Goodnight, me.

Goodnight, all that I see.

Am I feeling great? Yes, great as can be!

The moon shines in the window and paints a triangle on the floor.

Now that we're grown up, Wendy, who could ask for more?

Today we stood before a priest and we both said, "I do."

And here we lie in my old bed. And I am loving you!

Mabel's off to college soon. Stan and Ford are on a cruise.

Soos is sleeping down below—the snores come with the snooze!

Bill Cipher's just a memory. The Shapeshifter is kaput.

The Gnomes are happy with their queen. The Witch is in her hut.

We've climbed the stairs and gone to bed behind a closed, locked door.

We're giggling in each other's arms, our clothes are on the floor.

We had troubles, the good Lord knows, but they didn't last.

Let's think about the present now and not look at the past.

I loved you when you gave me keys to the Shack golf cart,

And when you rode the pines on down, you took hold of my heart.

For us this silence, for us this room, for us this splendid now,

Tomorrow starts our future life, but for the present—Wow!

Here we lie, flesh warm to warm, lips pressed to lips, my wife,

I hope we live a thousand years and love our married life.

But now it's time to draw the shades and shut out one and all,

For here it is, our wedding night. Now—let gravity fall!

"Dad? What are these words?"

"Hm?" Dipper took off his reading glasses. His four-year-old son held up a couple of pieces of paper. "Let's see." He took them, read them, and grinned. "Mm, these are a little adult for you guys. Just some sorta-kinda poems I wrote for your mom before she was your mom. Stay out of my desk, OK?"

His four-year-old daughter said, "She's always been our mom!"

"Well," Dipper said, laying his glasses aside, "there was a time before you guys were born, you know." He looked at the clock over his desk. "Holy Moley, it's past your bedtime!"

Wishing Wendy were back home, he herded them upstairs. Got them into their jammies, made sure they'd brushed their teeth and said their bedtime prayers. But as to bedtime, well, both the twins were yelling, "A story! A story!"

Then footsteps on the stairs, and Wendy, lugging her overnight bag, came to the twins' bedroom door. "You need help, Dip?"

"I got this," he said. "How was the forestry conference?"

"Pretty good. Learned a thing or two. But I missed you, so I managed to catch an earlier red-eye flight back home. And it looks like the kids stayed up past curfew, so I'm glad I did."

Both twins were clamoring, "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, you're home!" It had been two whole days without her.

"Sweetie, sweetie, sweetie," Dipper chanted. "It's so great to see you back!"

The twins were both on one bed now, pulling at her. She laughed. "OK, OK, calm down. I'm gonna give you both goodnight kisses!" And she gave each child a big smack on the cheek that made them both giggle.

Dipper wrestled the two redheaded twins into their own beds, gave them his goodnight kisses, and said, "OK, what kind of a story do you want? Giants? Pirates? Princesses in towers? Adventure?"

His son said, "Tell us about the time Auntie Mabel stole the airplane!"

Dipper blinked. "Um—that would take way too long, so maybe that's for another night maybe eight years from now."

His daughter said, "I know! Tell us about when we weren't born yet!"

Dipper sat in the chair beside the bed. Wendy came and sat on his lap. "Yeah," she said, snuggling with her arm round his neck. "Tell them that one."

Dipper put his arms around her. "OK, let's see . . . once a handsome and brave knight discovered that his funny, silly sister had been stolen by a zombie!"

"Ooh, this is going to be a good one!" his daughter said.

"Post your critique after the story," Dipper told her. "Now, this knight had to chase down the zombie and rescue his sister, but he didn't have a horse! He hurried and asked the king of the castle for help, but the king was too busy fleecing rubes—"

"Just like Grunkle Stan!" his son said.

"A lot like him," Dipper agreed. "But then a beautiful princess—"

"With red hair," his daughter said.

"Yes, with beautiful red hair. Just like yours. This princess drove up in a golf cart, and the knight went down on one knee and begged, 'Oh, lady fair, may I borrow the golf cart, for my sister hath been stolen by a zombie, forsooth!' Well, the princess hardly even knew the knight at all. But you know what she did?"

"What? What?"

"She handed him the keys and said, 'Try not to hit any pedestrians!'"

"Ooh!" his son said. "She's a cool princess!"

"I love her!" his daughter said.

"So do I, kids," Dipper told them, patting Wendy's hip. "So do I."

The End