After Soos and Wendy had seen Mabel disappear into the darkness of the upstairs hallway, Soos took another sip of his coffee. Wendy gazed at him curiously, "Is your lip alright?"
The man stopped mid-sip and put the cup back onto the table. He peered into his reflection in the liquid to examine his face, "Yep. You know, it's weird. I've been so worried about all of this getting out of hand that I kinda forgot I even got burnt. It's funny because even though we tied him up and locked him using Ford's maximum security in the basement, I still feel like Stan will bust out somehow."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Wendy cast a knowing glance across the room to the vending machine. "But don't worry. Mr. Pines might be a determined conman that can breakout of almost anywhere, but he can't be any match for his brother's advanced technological violence. Besides we knocked him out, remember? He is completely powerless until he wakes up."
As if on cue, an obnoxious banging noise slams itself again and again against the opposite side of the vending machine. The two looked on in horror, "It sounds like he's awake right now!"
"I know you're out there!" the old man's bellows were muffled behind the thick plaster and metal lining of the vending machine. "I can hear voices! Soos, Mabel? Let me out right now or I will break this old snack box down with my bare knuckles!"
Wendy got up out of her chair and stormed over to the vending machine. She pounded her fist against the glass screen guarding the expired bags of Doritos, "We're not letting you out. Dipper's still sick and we can't have you and your hard-head brother duking it out down here! Once Ford comes back down here, we're gonna lock him in the basement with you and for you guys to makeup like that one episode of Parks and Rec."
"Oh no, Ford is up there with Dipper? And you guys just let him waltz up when you know that it was because of him that Dipper is sick to begin with!" the old man continued to slam his full weight into the other side of the vending machine over and over. He could not believe that Wendy had been watching Parks and Recreation all this time and had never told him.
"We're sorry, Mr. Pines, but we can't let you out. This secret door won't open again until Ford comes back. Until then you have Waddles to keep you company. We designed a pig flap door just for him," Soos spoke those words.
Stanley stopped body-slamming the vending machine and went onto pressing his hands flat against it and speaking at it as if it would help his chances of being comprehended, "Soos, don't you wanna know what's been going on upstairs? You are the only one who isn't in on it already. Wow, come to think of it- with the amount of time you've spent over here tonight already, I'm surprised you're still out of the loop on this whole thing! Are you not worried about Dipper? How do you think he can stay up there for so long without getting curious and trying to sneak down? What is everyone doing to keep him entertained? If you let me out of here, I'll show you."
"Don't listen to him, Soos," Wendy urged him. "You are evil, Stan Pines. You know that Soos lost his diary when his Abuelita dropped by earlier, looking for it." She briefly glanced back to see Soos's reaction. "I can't imagine how disoriented his mind must be right now, having nothing to record his thoughts in. Don't you dare take advantage of him just because he's vulnerable."
"You know about my missing diary?" Soos gasped.
Stan did too, "Wait a minute...You guys knew about his lost diary this whole time and you didn't make a single move at all to help him find it? What kind of monsters are you? Hey, that's it! Heh. I don't need you guys to bust me out of here!" Then there was nothing but silence. Stan had left the scene. Wendy's hand slid down the glass window and she sighed, looking back up at Soos and shaking her head. They walked back to the table and sat down. Wendy refilled both their mugs and they stayed in complete peace as the night continued to stretch on.
Stanley walked down the stairs and back into the dimly-lit basement that he had once spent excessive amounts of time in. Now that job space had been filled by his good-for-nothing brother. He never had seen what everyone else did in Stanford, not since they were kids. Dipper had willingly gone out with him in the cold, bitter rain, knowing full well he'd come back drenched in mud and who knows what else. Why? Now he had the flu and was bedridden because of Ford and everyone still let him into the attic. They'd told him they'd condemn him for fighting as well as smashing that poor chair to wooden splinters against the marble floor but they sure had seemed giddy as ever to let him waltz upstairs. Well Stan was not about to wait for them to bring him into the basement. There were obvious ways to escape this place that the others should have known about but hadn't bothered to bar up.
The main laboratory was lit only by a single bulb in the middle of the room. The closet however was a completely different story. The window beneath the porch let the sunlight in at just the right angle at which Stan could climb up the counter and pull himself through the opening to freedom.