Something Amiss
Dipper reeled out of the room. Heart hammering, He nearly tripped over his feet as he dashed to the kitchen. Throwing himself at the fridge and yanking the door open, he grabbed the giant bottle of Pitt Cola and sprinted to his Grunkle's office, swishing the bottle's contents all the while.
"I don't know how you did this, Bill" Dipper's chest heaved, "But you're not leaving this room because-"
He unscrewed the cap and unleashed the soda. The beverage covered the paper clones and a hush fell over the group. Dipper waited, stance tense.
Then, "ah ha ha ha ha!"
No. No way.
Dipper's breath hitched. "What?"
Following the original paper Bipper's lead, the clones burst into laughter. Dipper stared, dumbfounded, as the clearly paper maniacs were unaffected by the liquid.
"You should've dissolved. Why didn't–what'd you–how?"
He stammered to a stop, dropping the soda, and backpedaled. Most of the liquid sloshed out of the bottle and pooled at his feet, the sticky substance clinging to his shoes. He needed to warn the others. Now.
"Where ya going?" Bill called. "I'm just getting started."
Dipper whirled on his heel, inhaling for a scream.
Faint colored hands slapped over his mouth, muffling the scream and dragging him backwards into the room. Dipper wriggled against the hold but multiple clones surrounded him, blocking any escape routes.
"So where's that journal, Pine Tree?" The Bipper laying atop the copier machine sat upright. "Give it to me and I'll be on my way."
The faint colored clone covering his mouth removed his palms. Dipper scoffed and tugged against the arms on his own.
"How about you tell me how you possessed Dipper 3!"
The leader, and the brightest colored Bipper, adjusted the numbered hat on his head, smirking. "Just made a deal. So," he hopped off the copier and sauntered into the crowd of Bippers. "Where's the journal?"
Dipper scoffed. "You'll never find it."
Within the mass of yellow eyed paper Bippers, the only feature that distinguished Bill from the rest was the number 3 inscribed on the blue and white hat and the fierce grin. Before Dipper could scream, a palm secured itself against his lips. Dipper glared at the inked 3 as the clones blocked his view of their leader and pushed him towards the door.
"Hey," the Bipper holding his mouth halted, "anybody got any rope?"
The mob paused. As one, they pivoted to face Bill. The numbered Bipper braced his palms against his hips and swiveled his gaze about the room.
Slowly, an unpleasant smile stretched the leader's face. "Maybe not rope," he eyed the desk. "But I bet there's duct tape."
Dipper wiggled as a pair of clones split from the group to ransack the desk, searching for the thick tape. A chorus of unpleasant affirmatives had Dipper wobbling on one foot and kicking wildly. In response, one Bipper plopped to the floor and hugged Dipper's leg, using weight to keep the tween's foot to the floor.
"Got it"
The mob parted for the Bipper wielding duct tape, and the other stabbing himself with scissors. Dipper squirmed.
"What a shame." The scissor toting Bipper remarked. "Paper bodies can't feel anything."
The Bippers holding his arms pulled his wrists behind his back and turned him towards the door. The duct tape Bipper whipped out sheets of the tape while the other Bipper severed the tape in quick succession. In short, albeit chaotic, order they plastered the frazzled tween in duct tape, and in the process they occasionally taped themselves to him. As one, they finished and stepped back to admire their handiwork.
"You look like a mummy!" Bill laughed. "Man, I haven't seen one of those in years!"
Dipper groaned. Tape wrapped around his small frame like ornaments on a Christmas tree. Smothering his face, weaving through his hair, and plastering to his clothes, he couldn't move. He groaned again. He had a feeling he'd be several strands of hair short and red all over once he was free and the tape was unpeeled.
Bill clapped his hands. "Well, time to dump you in some closet somewhere. Can't have you getting in my way, now can I?"
Dipper struggled as Bill hauled him over one shoulder and led the Bippers to the door. Just as he crossed the doorway, one Bipper paused.
"Wait, where is the closet?"
As one, the mob's focus zeroed on Bill. The numbered Bipper hesitated, absently adjusting his grip in the wriggling tween.
"Well..." Bill drawled, eyes darting in various directions. "I suppose we could just stuff him beneath Stan's desk. That outta give us enough time to burn the journal."
Dipper's flailing and muffled protests increased. Bill grinned and jostled the boy as he sauntered into the office.
"Geeze kid! You're like a worm! Wiggle! Wiggle!"
The mob laughed and marched back into the room. Once in the room, the group split, wandering and filling the room. Bill curved around the desk and tossed the tween. Dipper grunted as his torso slammed against the wooden wall and he dropped to the floor. He shifted in place, fighting to upright himself and feel less like a crumpled mess.
"Now who should guard him...?" Bill turned, studying the Bippers.
He frowned. The scissors clone continued to stab his forearms. The duct tape clone had gone on a wrapping spree and left several gift-wrapped clones in his wake. A few Bippers danced atop the safe while a few others clambered atop the copier only for mismatched monstrous copies to form until a paper-jam finally occurred.
"Huh." Bill, the only still individual in the room stared. "Some of them must've inherited the chaotic aspect of my personality."
The deformed monster of multiple heads and limbs rose from the paper and laughed, stumbling about the room. A Bipper rushed out of the room and another yanked on the paper jammed in the copier. Soon, the grinning Bipper returned with the soda bottle Dipper once used. The Bipper sprinted to the deformed copy and cackled as he dumped the remaining soda atop the mishmash clone. The Bippers cheered as the clone dissolved.
"Oh." Bill noted.
Maybe they all had inherited his character
The demon shrugged. "Then, eanie, meanie, miney..." His gaze zeroed on the stiff figure peering around the doorway.
He grinned, flashing shark's teeth. "You."
Bill strode to the wide-eyed clone, absently glancing at the four inked on the paper clone's hat. The copy, of equal color to Bill, shifted his gaze to the demon and gasped.
"Number Three...?"
"Nope!" Bill popped the p. "Just Bill! Bill Cipher! Three made a deal and now he's long gone!"
Number Four stared, disbelief blanking his face before scrunching in irritation. "Who are you?"
Bill frowned and pivoted slightly, half-facing the desk. "Hey Pine Tree! Your copy doesn't know who I am!"
When he heard a frustrated grunt in response, he smiled and returned a yellow stare to Number Four. "You may not be one of mine. But you can guard the little nuisance!" He spun to face the clones cloning themselves. "Hey! One of you need to stay here."
The Bippers immediately jerked their hands into the air. "Not it!"
Bill sighed and jammed a finger at the Bipper clinging to the copier, flailing to maintain his grip on the edge while raising his hand. "You. You look like you won't kill anyone. Yet."
The Bipper pouted but let go of the copier. The clone crossed his arms and shuffled to the demon and the Dipper copy.
"Alright." Bill snagged Number Four's forearm. "You'll watch my clone, make sure he doesn't accidentally kill the kid and you," he grabbed the sulking Bipper, "will make sure he doesn't unwrap Pine Tree. Can't have the two of you running around and getting in my way."
He dragged the paper copies to the desk and snorted when he spotted Dipper.
"Nice try, kid." He released the Bipper and grasped the back of the tween's orange shirt. "You can't worm out of here."
He yanked the boy beneath the desk and shoved Number Four into the space to Dipper's left and pushed the Bipper in between the the two,
"There," he clapped his hands. "Now you just sit tight and watch each other. Don't get into any trouble now! Ah ha ha ha!"
Bill swiveled and snapped his fingers. The Bippers straightened and marched to surround Bill.
"Alright, minions." He grinned. "Spread out! I want you three," he swept his left hand, "to check the attic. And you nine," he brandished his right hand, "to check this floor. Go!"
The Bippers split, rushing out of the room to search the various rooms. Bill braced his hands on his hips, palms outwards and arms angular.
"This is going to be so much fun, eh Pine Tree?"
Dipper sighed.
Note: Not quite sure if I got Bill's personality right but I tried.