I lied!

I've got some more chapters to post, but I'm not finished writing yet.

I'll delete the old text, no doubt confusing people who haven't seen it. Meanwhile, enjoy some more Billy Mischief.

The night before, Gus had informed Ricky that it was not unusual for the young magician to disappear for a whole night, and that she shouldn't worry herself. "When he drinks, he gets it done all at once," Gus had said with a shrug "why do you think he never has any saved around? You'd think as much as he beefs about it, he'd save some for later, but that's Billy for you."

"You think he got a hold of some booze?" Ricky had asked "I think he was a little sore at the Pines brothers right now, and I don't know anyone else in the bootlegging business."

Gus shrugged "Maybe he gave up his whole 'no hooch' policy. Even city slickers have to adapt eventually."

Ricky did not laugh at the joke, and Gus went on to tell her about how when they both lived on Gus's father's property, the pale haired boy would sometimes find the magician passed out in random places in the yard. Sometimes Billy would drag himself home at some point in the last morning and casually inform Gus "'Slept in the graveyard last night. Someone's cat decided to use my face as a scratching post. Hey kid, quit laughing! That's not funny!'" Gus said, imitating a ruffled Billy Mischief. Ricky cracked a smile.

"But he hasn't done that recently," Gus went on "I think it's because he wanted to focus on this," Gus had gestured around the kitchen, though he meant to refer to the shack in general, costume shop and all.

Ricky shrugged "Maybe he wanted to celebrate. He just threw this party and got some kind of victory over my father- that must have put him in a good mood."

Gus nodded "I wouldn't worry about Billy. He'll show up tomorrow. Or he'll get thrown in jail- which might be the better alternative, honestly." Ricky had to agree. At least in jail, Billy couldn't come up with creative ways to hurt himself. Maybe.

Despite having this conversation, Ricky did worry. Sleep didn't come or, if it did, it was a disturbed sleep without dreaming that felt like no time had passed at all, so that she didn't know she had slept. She lay down on the double bed she shared with Billy as long as she was living here. A part of her didn't want to be alone, but sharing a bed with Gus felt weird and incestuous, even if Gus wasn't really related to her. Besides, Billy's sheets had his smell on them that Ricky had grown so used to. And yet without the magician really being near, it was a tease- the scent of cookies baking in the other room and you know you're not allowed to have a single one.

I get a hold of myself after I scream a few more times, making myself hoarse. For several seconds I sit on the ground with my knees pulled up by my chest, getting my breath under control. Okay, Bill, okay. This. This is your reality now. Panicking might feel right, but it won't help you. So pull yourself together and think about this!

Let's see. I woke up in the forest missing an eye. I had it the last time I can remember, so something happened to me while I was sleeping. Well, when did I fall asleep? I shut my remaining eye to concentrate. I must have went to sleep in my bed last- I always do. Was Ricky with me this time? I...I honestly can't remember!

It's funny. The memory of me going up to the attic and getting in bed- with or without the heiress- is not there. I-...did I not sleep in my bed last night?

I concentrate on summoning my absolute last memory. Let's see. I remember telling Fiera Pitt that she wasn't smart enough to be villainous. I remember hoofing it with Ricky. And then after that...ahhhhhh...I think that, maybe, the kids might have gone home? And maybe...I talked to Gus, or something? I...I honestly don't know! I try to summon those memories, and where my recollections are usually pretty sharp, these ones are all a haze! A haze not dissimilar to a drunken haze, actually...

So that's it. The dance. After dancing with Ricky, everything falls apart. Was I drunk? I don't remember drinking anything except for Dr. Pitt's new concoction, and that stuff's just mada sugar and peach juice. It is just sugar and peach juice, right? You can make a kind of wine outta peaches, can't you? Hadn't tasted like wine, though. And the other thing is that I don't feel hung over right now. I feel horrible, but a lotta this has to do with the shock of having woken up missing a sensory organ. Once I get beyond that, I feel fine, if not a little stiff.

So what the hell happened to me? Was there something in the Pitt Cola that caused me to black out? On thing I know is that, after I did lose my eye, someone was there with my knocked out self, because someone had the presence of mind to stuff a rag into the empty socket. So either I lost it in a drunken high or something and some good samaritan came along and stuffed my eye socket and left, or else someone removed it. The second option, as horrible as it sounds, is really more likely.

Why would someone do this to me?!

I immediately think of the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel. They have been my enemies since before I was born, and they always will be. But what reason would they have to do this, exactly? They believe that my human self and my demon self are separate entities, and it's the demon that they hate, not Bill. So what, would taking away Bill's eye cause the demon to be weakened somehow?

It's a good thing to find out, because to wake up alone without my eye or my magic would be the pits! I test it. Fire works fine. Illusions, fine. I can flash in and out just dandy. And I can cause things to float. So, check, check, check and check. My magic is intact.

Believe it or not, I don't think the Mackerels did this. Then who!? Once again, I can't help thinking of the town doctor. Pitt Cola was the only thing I put in my mouth since the party, and I drank a lot of it, being their little spokesmonkey. On top of that, the doctor is probably the only guy in town who knows how to do surgery. It had to be him that did this.

Damn him! Why would he? What kinda sick bastard is he?

It wasn't until the afternoon that Gus really worried. Billy was usually back by now. Luckily, it was Sunday, and blue laws meant they couldn't open the store if they wanted to, so they had time to look for him.

It was like the time on Scuttlebutt Island again, only they would(hopefully) find Billy is a less demonic state and a more human one- that is, the human vice of being drunk. Gus and Ricky resolved to split up. Ricky believed that Billy might have accidently dragged himself back to Gus's dad's shed, perhaps too intoxicated to remember that he didn't live there any more. She was the one who went in that direction. For Gus, it was too awkward.

When Gus had told his father about the plan to try selling his garments at Billy's store, the man had turned quiet. Quieter than usual, in any case. Gus knew that when his father became quiet, that was when it was time to be worried. For hours, the man had just brooded. He had sat in his chair and brooded. He had walked around the property and brooded. He had cooked and eaten supper and brooded. Finally, just before Gus cleared his plate and thought he was home free, his father had opened his mouth.

"So, you want to throw away your life, do you boy?" His father's voice trembled a little, as if there was much he was holding back. Even Gus, who knew him, gripped the underside of he table as if bracing himself.

"No, Dad..." His voice sounded impossibly small.

"No? Are you lying to me, boy?" He went on "You want to waste your time- doing what? Being a seamstress? What do you plan to do in your future- go to work for a sweatshop?"

Gus shook his head vigorously "Dad! Designers and seamstresses are completely different things! There's a difference between taking orders and creating!"

"Well frankly, my boy, it all sounds like rubbish to me."

Gus looked down at his plate. He hated to see his father like this. He hated to see him angry or disappointed. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was a stupid idea. The most likely scenario was that his and Billy's business scheme would fail, and Gus would need to work in the mines anyway. Why skip that middle part?

He squeezed his fork in his hand. Why couldn't his dad just be okay with what he did? Sewing gave him joy. There was nothing in the world that even came to creating all those colorful costumes for little kids, and then seeing their faces when they wore them, transforming themselves into little pirates, tigers, and ghosts. Gus was more himself when he was behind a sewing machine or putting something to a dress form than he ever was when he was doing something 'that a man ought to do.'

Gus was surprised by the next words that came out of his mouth, because he had really expected himself to give in. "I'm sorry to hear that, Dad." In the end, Gus couldn't bare to lose something so important to himself- something so integral to him that he used it to define himself. And that was the final straw for Fuller Gleeful. He had declared that, if Gus refused to act like a son, he was no son of his.

Gus has not planned, before that night, to take Billy up on his offer to move in with him, but when he told him that he would, his best friend, was, at least, a helluva a lot more happy to have his company than his father was. Gus had smiled as they celebrated the business proposal the best way Billy knew how, never giving the magician a hint of the heartbreak that threatened to knock him to his knees. It was the one time Gus drank and, given how he felt the next day, he immediately swore it off again. After that, it had been grown much easier to ignore the hurt as they both threw themselves into the details of the fledgling business.

That was why he couldn't go to his father's house to look for Billy. Ricky just didn't want to go to her father's home. Gus was forbidden to return. So instead he went in the other direction. Gus had a hunch Billy might have gone into the woods. It was worth exploring the woods a little. Gus swore he wouldn't get lost.

I have thrown the bloodied rag away. It's fulfilled it's purpose and, besides, it itches when it's inside my skull. Actually, my eye socket is still itching a little. Ah, damnit! I better not have an infection or something! You'd think a doctor would do a better job at cleaning up after his surgeries than this! But then again, he's more of a family doctor than a surgical one.

It sure is a good thing I'm still wearing my Summerween costume. The string of my eye patch was hanging around my neck when I woke up and, after getting rid of the rag, I set it over my eye socket. It's not the one that's a part of my stage costume- this one is a simple black oval, and made of cheaper stuff than the one Gus made me as a gift.

I levitate myself in the air- up past the tops of the towering, eighty-foot pines that surround me. I'm trying to get my bearings, but once up there, all I see is miles upon miles of trees. Pine trees all shoulder to shoulder (or bough to bough, I suppose), going off in every direction. Yanno those adventure novels where the seafaring hero looks out around him and sees ocean in every direction- monotonous and unending? Well right now I'm floating on a sea of trees. Nothing breaks this up but for a craggy mountain in the distance, furred with pine trees at its base.

No sign of Gravity Falls. I squint and strain my eye to try to make out the top of the water tower. I can't even see the giant sized redwood that dwarfs the trees and buildings in the town. This isn't good. This isn't good! How the heck am I gonna get back to civilization? If I'm not near Gravity Falls, I could be anywhere! Am I even still in Oregon?

One of the tall, spindly trees has a nest in its top bows. A coupla birds of prey are perched on said nest. The handsome brown and white birds stare at me with furious yellow eyes. I wave at them sheepishly then start to descend, and that sets them off. They both leap from the nest, extending giant wings. Soon they are upon me with talons and curved beaks. I'm just as nimble as them in the air and I dodge them, flying close to the trunks of trees so that their giant wings get in the way when they try to follow. They wheel in the open sky above, every once in a while screeching in a threatening way- a promise of what they'll do it I try to go above the canopy again. I give them a Bronx cheer.

I settle to the ground, as there's no point in being up there if I'm still just as lost. There's really nothing for me to do now but to pick a direction and start walking that way. Since the mountain is large and steep and looks like a pain of a climb, I go in the opposite direction of that.

But I still have problems. All that screaming I did earlier has gotten me some extra attention from other parties besides the eagles.

I first become aware that I have company as I'm stumbling along over roots and old, dry pine needles. I'm hugging my arms close to me, shivering. Even though it's summer, mornings are still chilly enough for dew to form, and I'm not dressed warmly in case ya haven't noticed. Half of me is dressed for the balmy Caribbean waters(or at least, the way folks imagine Caribbean waters to be,) and the other half has fake hair stuck all over him. Believe it or not, the glued-on goat hair does not help me retain my heat.

I'm honestly not aware of them until they're right on toppa me which, thinking about how these creatures tick, is probably what they wanted. A twig snaps. A twig snaps to my left, and I turn my head, but of course, I don't really see to the left. I have to turn my head more to see where I want to see and by the time I do the wolf is already pouncing.

A surge of adrenaline goes through my body and I scurry away from the spot. I manage to move just enough so that the wolf lands on forest floor instead of one-eyed teenager. The wolf lands on its feet and snarls up at me. I back away...right into something furry and warm.

I look over my shoulder. My right shoulder if you're curious. There is another wolf there, standing up with it's side toward me so that it's back created a wall for me to walk into. It snarls as me like the first. My eyes- sorry, eye- not used to the terminology yet- goes back to the first wolf. Yep, he's still snarling. If he could talk, it would be death threats, I bet. Only now he has some buddies with him.

"Heh," I chuckle "I'm one ah you! See the hair?" I point to my face. I know the hair is still there because the glue itches now. "Not buying it, huh? Yeah, I wouldn't either." I mutter.

I have hesitated for too long, and they jump onto me. Ever experienced the weight of half a dozen wolves all pulling you down at once? Well I am right now! Teeth dig into my arms and paws put their full weight on my back. I'm flat in two seconds flat. I see a world of teeth- ivory white and sharp, in beds of pink with pulled back lips. And I realize, this isn't just about dying. It's about being pulled in several directions by hungry mouths and being chewed on and digested while your still alive.

Fire explodes in an expanding ring around me. I dunno why I haven't tried just blasting them before. Several wolves yelp as the blue flames singe their fur and the skin underneath. The ones who are close receive large, maiming burns, and the ones further out are luckier. But given than almost every mouth had been ready to bite into my flesh, there are a lot of hurt wolves.

Of course! Because fire hurts living things! I keep forgetting that! Why do I keep forgetting that? I suppose because it's never been anything but a friend to yours truly. Horribly maimed wolves stumble about the area- those that can walk, anyhow. I jump to my feet. "Thinking about snacking on Billy Mischief, were ya? Well I got a better idea! How 'bout a wolf-barbeque!" I exclaim, throwing more fireballs in their direction.

My eye is on one big, grizzled fella who's running quickly around my attacks. I start throwing fire more furiously as said wolf draws nearer, but every attack misses. What the heck? I seem to either always overshoot or undershoot. I come to relieze that I'm misjudging the distance- my depth perception is shot! Worse, the wolf is clever. He moves in a zigzag pattern that makes it impossible to figure out where he'll be next, but ever second he's a bit closer to me.

"Stay back! Stay back!" I try my last option, which is turning tail and running. "Whatsa matter with ya? You're supposed to be afraida me!"

I realize with a jolt that that that's just it. The wolves are afraida me. I'm the ageless demon Triangulum- bane to all natural things. And the wolves have got that figured out. The wolves are so afraida me that they would rather risk life and limb to kill me than allow me to go on existing.

Once I realize this, it's kinduva dampening thought. I will always be hunted by God's creatures, and I'll never have any peace- except maybe from Gompers. That guy's a nonconformist. Or maybe he's just stupid- by goat standards. I'm not sure.

And it's not like it's fair either! I mean, what the heck did I slash the demon do before I was me to make animals hate me this much? Giva coupla people bad dreams? At least they get to have dreams! They shoulda been thanking me for making sleep interesting for them!

In any case, I've got to deal with these wolves, and I've got to do it right now. I am definitely ready. I can feel my magic just itching to get out and my amulet is glowing. I finally turn around. The big wolf is on my heels, and I throw him back a few yards with my magic. The behemoth of a canine shakes himself off and starts toward me again.

"ALRIGHT!" I yell "You asked for it!" It's either the wolves or me, and it's definitely not going to be me! I extend a hand to let out a world of pain. After I'm done, the wolf won't be a wolf any more. I don't know what it will be yet, but it will belong to me!

Suddenly, the dawn-lit woods around me are full of bodies that have come bounding into the space. The forest is full of deer. Dozens of deer. They bound in, hooves and white tails flashing. The fella deer lower their heads threateningly at the wolves. The wolves are bulkier, but the deer are taller, and more of their number remain uninjured. The big fella who is almost on toppa me is pinned between the antlers of two deer. It's amazing. These creatures made a plan and came together to pin this guy between their antlers. The deer come apart, and charged at each other again. The second time, the wolf is gored in several places by the sharp tines.

"Or, an army of intelligent deer can come outta literally nowhere and kill all the wolves in fronta my face!" This is ridiculous. Since when were deer capable of murder? It's not that I mind. I mean, better the wolves get murdered than me. But..."Why do deer have to be so, damn, creepy?" And this is me saying this so you know the deer are doing something wrong.

And then, the wolves are in retreat. The wolves are in retreat from the attacking deer. Just say that a few times in your head to let it sink in. Those that can walk leave, anyway. The ones that are alive but unable to leave are being trampled as I watch. This is honestly the most unbelievable thing I've yet encountered in Gravity Falls. Gus and Ricky wouldn't believe it when I tell them.

Just as quickly and as suddenly as they arrived, most of the deer split. The exception are half a dozen bucks with fantastic racks- ten points or more, who linger. Before I can consider my next move, they are making theirs. Deliberately and suddenly- they bow.

Nope. This is the most unbelievable thing I've seen in Gravity Falls! It looks so weird that for a minute I'm sure that all of them have all at once stumbled onto their front knees (or are they deer-elbows?). Their spindly looking legs bend under them and their bodies go down, and her heads incline as well.

I shake my head, not sure what to make of what I'm seeing in fronta my face. "You deer are so..." I mutter. What is going on? Why is this happening? Are they like, rabid or something? It doesn't make sense for wild animals to act like this. If they all jumped up and attacked at this moment, I would actually feel relieved. This is just unnerving. It's almost like they worship me or something. And while I like being worshipped, I prefer when my fans are the ones doing it.

Wait a minute...

"This isn't about me, is it? It's about the demon, right? Well, I mean, we're one in the same the same so..." I take a step toward the bowing deer "are you deer trying to protect the demon insida me?"

The deer say nothing, but they do stand up and look at me impassively. The sun shines on their muzzles and I can see their coin slot eyes. I can't help but remember the last time I saw dark brown eyes with pupils like that. How can I even forget? If I could have nightmares, that would be my number one, I'm sure. Just thinking about it, flames jump to my hands.

"One ah your kind tricked me! Tried to get me killed!"

The deer do not respond to this accusation. Deers don't talk. Some of them back away when they see my flames, but they do not take flight. The deer aren't afraida me.

"Well, ya should be!" I yell, and throw a several balls of blue flames in their direction. Now they do as deer should- now they spring away as if they have rubber on their hooves and their bodies are made of nothing heavier than balsa wood. I'm finally alone.

Despite his promises to himself, Gus soon was lost in the monotonous forest behind the house he shared with his best friend. The pale haired boy blamed the trees. The trees were almost exclusively the same species of slender, red barked pine reaching far into the air. If there was only a mix of trees, then they wouldn't all look the same to him, and Gus wouldn't have been as hopelessly lost.

How was he supposed to help Billy if he couldn't even keep track on himself?

Though things seemed to be getting better. Or maybe he was just more hopelessly lost now, but in any case, the forest around him took on a different look. The pine trees were gone- now Gus was walking among deciduous trees with fat trunks and twisted roots. Large, green, star-shaped leaves as big as Gus's hands created an interwoven ceiling above him. Looking up, one could not see the sun, but sunlight did filter down, transformed into a bluish green color that altered the look of everything around him. The floor was a soft, light green grass, with ferns and craggy stones and mushrooms poking up out of them. But for some mushrooms caps which where a striking red, everything he saw was some shade of green- from a sickly yellow green to a lush forest green to a cool blue green.

Gus continued to walk "Billy!" He called "Hey, Billy?" Would Billy hang out in a place like this? Probably not. In all honestly, searching for him in the woods was a stupid idea. The magician hated animals, and the forest around Gravity Falls was chock full of wild animals- among other things. But it wasn't like Gus could just go back. He had to commit to this search now.

He found himself following a trail- a path between fat trees. He noticed the way the grass was bent- someone, or several people, had used this path recently. This was a relief to Gus, because if people came here often, it probably lead back to town eventually.

Gus hesitated when the path forked and into two separate directions. There was no quantifiable difference between the paths. Both had an abundance of green, both looked as wide and as mild as the other. Gus chose by using the scientific technique known as Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe and continued on. Then Gus had to choose between two paths again, and was about to say the rhyme again, but he heard voices. Men's voices. The pale haired boy hurried down the left path.

The path dipped and rose again. When Gus came over the rise, he found he was walking into a half moon shaped clearing. One side of the clearing was a stone wall with a smooth surface. Several men occupied the clearing, their backs to the teenager. All the men were on one knee, and their heads were inclined forward. All of them were dressed in overalls and brown shoes. Now this was very strange indeed, Gus thought.

Even stranger was the device the teenager saw on the wall in front of gnomes and, logically, Gus. It was carved into the stone with deep grooves, and showed up boldly. On the bottom, two wide half circles parallel to each other, forming kind of a bowl. The space between the half circles was divided by nine lines, and between the lines were ten symbols Gus believed he had seen before. Above said bowl was a equilateral triangle with a vertical line dividing it, and an oval near the top, touching two sides.

Gus gasped, and too late tried to quash it. This resulted in his mouth making a curious squeaking sound. It was the symbol the man in the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel had shown Billy and him! It was the sign of the demon that Billy had inside of him!

At the sound of him, several of he men looked up and over their shoulders. Brows furrowed over bearded faces. Some of the men stood up, and Gus finally saw how tall they were. The boy's eyes widened in alarm. The red caps, the bearded faces, the giant bodies- Gus knew who these guys were! Not humans- gnomes!

I walk. I walk, and I walk, and I walk. Nothing changes. The trees next to me now might as well be the same as the trees that were next to me when I started walking. What I wouldn't kill to see some different kinda trees around here! Some elms or some oaks or some birches- then, maybe, at least I'd have some idea of whether I was going in circles or not! A couple ah times I fly up to the canopy to have a look around. The mountain, which is my one point of reference, doesn't appear to have moved at all. I'm not even sure if I'm looking at it from another angle. The worst thing about this forest is it's uniformity.

It's not like I have any lack of things to do though. Oh no. The forest is literally throwing activities my way. And by activities, I mean wild animals which furiously bite, claw and peck if they are allowed to get close enough. They usually don't get further than that, though, as I am quick to finish them off with flames, but they do get sadly close became my aim is terrible. At one point, it's almost like a person can track me by all the animals dead of burn wounds that I leave behind in my wake. I wonder if anyone is looking for me.

I sure hope so. For about the dozenth time (oh, who am I kidding? I lost tracka long time ago, but it's been a helluva lot more than a dozen!)I call out. "Y'ello?! It anybody out out there?! Anybody! Help!"

There's no answer this time, just like there was no answer the last twenty-or-so times. I hate this. I hate this! I'm more itchy from the glue and hair stuck to my body, I have wounds from being bitten by wolves which are probably festering, my stomach is protesting loudly, my clothes are dirty and uncomfortable, I feel a headache coming on and I'm missing an eye! But the worst thing about all of this is that I'm doing it alone. There's no one to hear my shouts for help, no one to see me suffer. Usually I hate it when people see me break a sweat, but I actually wouldn't mind it now.

If an idiot dies in the woods, does anybody care?

Gus's first instinct was to run. Of course, he was facing the wrong direction; he had to turn around first. As it was, it was best to jump back up and away from the gnomes who, one by one, were rising to come after him. After nearly all of them rose, Gus finally turned around and got ready to sprint. He didn't get far, however, before the path he had taken to get here was filled up by two giant man shaped objects. The gnomes put themselves in front of Gus's escape route, their broad shoulders close together. They crossed their arms.

"Going somewhere, human-boy?" The brunette said it as kind of an insult.

Gus backed away from these and his eyes darted around the space. There was no other way out. He was trapped.