"911, what's your emergency?"

"Help me, please! My uncle…I think he's having a heart attack! You need to send an ambulance!"

"Can you give me your address?"

"We…we're at the Mystery Shack. 618 Gopher Road."

"Alright, we're sending help to your location, okay?"

"O…okay…okay…"

"What part of the house are you in?"

"We're in my room…in the attic."

"Is your uncle conscious right now?"

"His…his eyes are open…but…he's not answering me."

"So he's not conscious?"

"N…no, I don't think so."

"What's your name?"

"M…Mabel…Mabel Pines."

"What's your uncle's name?"

"S…Stanford Pines."

"Does Stanford have any medical conditions you know of?"

"No…I mean…he has six fingers…does that help?"

"Any information may help." Mabel doubted that was true. She had a feeling the dispatcher was just humoring her. "Mabel, are there any other adults in the house with you?"

"No…my other uncle and my brother aren't home."

"Okay…can you tell me what happened?"

"We…I was teaching him how to…how to knit sweaters. And then…he…he just fell over." Mabel's already streaming tears flowed harder recalling the moment her uncle's eyes rolled into the back of his head before collapsing to the floor and convulsing. "Now, he's shaking. I don't know what's wrong with him."

"Mabel, calm down. You need to stay calm so we can help your uncle, okay?

"Okay…okay." Mabel took a deep breath to collect herself.

"You said you uncle's shaking? Is he shaking really hard?"

"Yeah…really hard."

"Are there any furniture or objects that he might hurt himself on?"

"Um…his knitting needles…they're on the floor next to him. He almost hit the sharp ends."

"Can you push them away from your uncle?"

Using her feet, Mabel quickly pushed the needles away from Ford's reach. "Okay, I did it."

"Good."

"His head…his head is hitting the floor really hard."

"Okay, Mabel, is there anything soft like a pillow you can put under Stanford's head?"

"The…the sweaters we made…I can…I can use those."

"Okay, you go do that."

Mabel took a couple of the sweaters they had been working on and laid them under Ford's head.

Foam began pouring out of Ford's mouth. He began making gurgling sounds that frightened Mabel. "He's…he's foaming at the mouth. And…and he's making weird gurgling noises. I don't think he can breathe!"

"Okay, Mabel, are you able to turn him on his side?"

"I'll…I'll try." Mabel set down the phone and tried to push Ford onto his side. It was easier said than done. Ford was much bigger than her and was still convulsing, making it even more difficult. But the gurgling grew worse. That made Mabel gather all her strength to get Ford lying on his side. She picked the phone back up. "Okay, I did it."

"Alright, Mabel, we want to make sure your uncle's airway is clear. Can you wipe the saliva from his mouth?"

Without hesitation, Mabel used her hand to wipe all the bodily fluids off his mouth. She didn't care how gross it was. All that mattered was helping Ford.

Ford's gurgling turned into desperate gasps. Then, all of a sudden, Ford's body stopped moving and no further sounds came from him.

Mabel watched her uncle's still body with numb shock for a moment before screaming: "OH MY GOD! HE'S DEAD! HE'S DEAD! NO…NO…GRUNKLE FORD! PLEASE!" Mabel dropped the phone in a panic. "GRUNKLE FORD, DON'T YOU DARE DIE ON ME!"

Ford's eyes opened. They were dazed and confused, but they were open. Mabel sobbed in relief. She bent down so her face was right in front of Ford's. "Grunkle Ford, are you okay?"

"Ma…Ma…Ma…el…?"

As Mabel processed everything that happened, she heard the dispatcher's faint voice coming through her phone and picked it up. She caught a brief glimpse of the call's time: 90 seconds. Only 90 seconds had passed. The longest and most terrifying 90 seconds of her life. "Hello?"

"Mabel?" said the dispatcher. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"I'm sorry. I panicked and…I'm sorry for dropping the phone."

"That's okay. You're calm now, right?"

"Yeah."

"What's your uncle doing right now?"

"He's…he's not shaking anymore. It looks like he's waking up."

"Okay, Mabel, I want you to put the phone on speaker and try to talk to him now. You let me know if anything changes, okay?"

Mabel put the phone on speaker near Ford's head. It took him about five minutes for his disorientation to wear off and finally able to speak. "Ma…Mabel?"

"Grunkle Ford…"

Ford took in several things at once: he was lying on the floor. His head was on a bundle of sweaters that were soaked with his own saliva. Mabel was looking down at him, her eyes red and puffy with tear streaks down her face. He put it all together.

"Mabel…it's okay. I had a grand mal seizure. I've them a couple of them since…" Ford never told the kids Bill tortured him with electricity. He didn't want them to be burdened by that knowledge. "…for a while now."

Mabel didn't look too reassured. He was going to say something else when he was interrupted by another voice.

"Hello? Mabel? Is there someone with you?"

The voice came from Mabel's phone on speaker. "I…I called 911. I was scared. I didn't know what to do."

"It's okay, Mabel. That was a very responsible decision." Ford picked up the phone and spoke into it. "Hello, this is Stanford Pines."

"Stanford? Can you describe what happened to you?"

"I had a grand mal seizure. I've had them before. They come and pass. I don't require any medical attention."

"Grunkle Ford, you need to go to the hospital!"

"Mabel, I promise you I'm fine."

"EMT services are on their way. Do you want to cancel it?"

"Grunkle Ford…please…go to the hospital, please…please…"

Ford saw no reason to go to the hospital when he knew he was in no medical danger. He didn't want to take up the EMTs' precious time when there could be real emergencies out there. But Mabel was hysterical and if going to the hospital would put her mind at ease, it was the least he could do for her. "When Stan gets back, I'll have him drive me to the hospital to get checked out. Is that a fair compromise?"

Mabel didn't like it. She would rather get Ford to the hospital as soon as possible. But he was doing better now, and she supposed it was a fair compromise. "Okay."

Ford answered the dispatcher's questions to assure her that the issue was resolved and thanked her before hanging up.

Deciding he's had enough of laying on the ground, he sat up. The second he moved, Mabel was by his side to assist him. She led him to her bed and helped him lay down.

"Are you sure you're okay, Grunkle Ford?"

"Yes, Mabel, I just need to rest a bit."

"Okay." Mabel took her covers and tenderly tucked them around Ford.

"Thank you, Mabel," he said with a smile.

Mabel couldn't return his smile. Her lips trembled as she sniffed loudly.

Ford held out his arm for Mabel. "Come here, sweetie."

Mabel went to hug him. A torrent of tears fell down her cheeks as she wailed. Ford had never seen her this upset before. "Shh, shh, shh…no, no, no…sweetie, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm alright. It's okay."

Mabel was sobbing so hard that she was gasping between each syllable. "I…thought…you…were…gon…na…die…"

"I'm so sorry, Mabel. I should have told you about my seizures. I can't imagine how frightening it was for you." Ford glanced at the sweater bundle she had laid under his head. "But I'm very thankful to you for taking care of me. You handled the situation very maturely. I'm very proud of you."

Ford caught a glimpse of a small smile even with her face half buried in his chest as she looked timidly up at him. His heart filled with guilt at scaring her so. He held her tighter and kissed the top of her head. "I'm not going anywhere, Mabel. I'm not going anywhere."