Chapter 28: Shenanigans
At eleven Ante Meridiem, an hour before noon, everything necessary for a proper fishing day out on the lake was packed into Stan's car and Soos' truck: The fishing poles, packed lunches, bait, and cameras. Everything... Except for the people. And why were the people not sitting in their respective seats?
Because Bill Cipher had woken up that morning and realized that he was going to have to ride in a car with Stanford, on Friday the Thirteenth, a notoriously unlucky day... Needless to say, he was not at all pleased.
Bill was currently furiously scrubbing away at the tears in his eyes that he neither wanted nor could force away by his own willpower. 'Just get in the damn car already Cipher!' He thought to himself furiously, attempting to get a running start and jump into the car but as soon as he neared the entrance to the metal death trap his body would go rigid and jerk back away in a frenzy.
"Honestly, Cipher! What the hell is the matter with you?!" Ford asked in exasperation. He had to admit to himself that it was somewhat humorous, but also startling and disconcerting to watch as Bill seemingly struggled with his own body, trying to force it into the car only to have it reject the idea and force itself away again.
'Does this body have a mind of its own?!' Bill wondered as he once again tried to force himself into the car, this time Dipper and Mabel gently pushing at his back to get him in as his hands grasped the door frame and worked against them: At this moment he greatly resembled a cat when it's being forced into a bathtub, he simply did not want to go in, the world be damned! 'Is this what having a true phobia feels like? What a concept! Do I really have amaxophobia? A fear of riding in cars so extreme that my body fights me on its own accord?' Bill couldn't think of any other explanations. 'What a stupid fear to have! Though not entirely irrational. Car accidents are the number one cause of premature deaths in the United States...'
"Maybe, Grunkle Ford," Mabel directed to the old man sitting in the driver's seat, "it would help if you weren't driving... or if you rode in the truck with Soos..."
Ford stared at her from the driver's seat for a few moments as Dipper, Stan, and Bill still struggled to force Bill into the car, a frustrated growl and very quiet curse words streaming nearly continuously from the small blonde's mouth. Surely Dipper and Stan could overpower him and force him in if they really had to, but they didn't want to cause Bill any harm, and even though they looked like they were trying to force him in, they both knew that unless Bill managed to get in on his own he would cause a fuss the whole way to the lake.
Ford sighed a deep, frustrated huff and got out of the car. "I'm riding with Soos," he decided and stomped over to Soos' old truck, hopping into the passenger's seat.
Stan, Dipper, and Bill were all watching him as he approached the truck, Dipper and Stan still pushing at Bill's back and Bill's arms and legs still braced against the metal frame. As soon as the door to the truck closed, it was as if Bill's arms and legs had lost all strength and he, Dipper, and Stan were all suddenly falling into the backseat of the car.
"Well I guess that worked," Dipper commented as he struggled out from under Stan, sitting on the seat near the right window as Bill righted himself in the center seat, Mabel climbing in and closing the door after Stan had exited the back and sat down in the driver's seat.
Wendy sat in the passenger's seat. "Hey, Ford said he and I were switching vehicles and that I should ride with you guys," she said, buckling up in the front seat. She crossed her legs and arms and reclined her chair as far as it could go without squishing Dipper. She looked back at Bill, who had just buckled himself into the middle-back seat; he still had tear tracks on his cheeks, though his distress seemed to have declined greatly. "You really hate cars," she observed mildly.
"And my brother," Stan added as he started the car and began to follow Soos' old truck down the road. "Combining the two probably wasn't a good idea to begin with."
"No kidding," Dipper snorted.
Bill couldn't help but feel embarrassed, red tinting his cheeks as he stared out the open window to his left. 'Stupid car... and Ford... and human fears and emotions...' He thought to himself silently. The rest of the car ride was quiet, the roar of the wind billowing through the open windows in and out of the car's cabin making it too loud to speak. Wendy never asked why Stan was actually going the speed limit of forty instead of his usual sixty-five and Bill tried very hard to breathe deeply and not freak out over how very, very fast they were going... Or, at least, in his mind they were going much faster than a human ever should go. Humans couldn't run like cheetahs for a reason, you know!
It took less than thirty minutes, but Bill was more than ready to escape the confines of the car by the time they were stopping near the side of the lake. He bolted from the car as if the car had spat him out. Mabel giggled and began playing with Bill's hair while Stan instructed Dipper on pulling their luggage out of the car.
"Mabel~" Bill whined as she finished clipping his hair up in that pretty little golden sparkly bow from their trip to the clothing store shortly after Bill arrived in town. "I told you I wouldn't wear that..." He pouted and went to grab at it, Mabel lightly smacking his hands away at every attempt. "I look like one of those ugly little Troll Dolls you humans were obsessed with in the early sixties," he complained, pouting at the way his hair was standing straight up like a mountain atop his head, clipped together with the plush golden monstrosity.
"No way!" Mabel protested. "Those things were ugly, I've seen em'!" Wendy was stifling her laughter in the background, earning her a mild glare from Bill. "You're super adorable!"
Bill continued to try to un-shape his hair from the volcano-esque design, but eventually gave in as he noticed Ford steering a decently-sized vessel across the water to where they were on the beach.
"I went and got the Stan O' War out of the shed," Ford clarified.
"You keep it here at the lake when you aren't out at sea?" Dipper asked, to which Stanford nodded in response. He turned and faced Bill.
"You," he said, pointing one of his six right-hand's fingers in Bill's direction. "Don't touch anything. None of the levers, buttons, not the steering wheel, nothing!" Bill frowned, glaring slightly in that way that he was unaware made Soos, Mabel, and occasionally Stan gush.
"What could he possibly do? It's just a boat," Mabel said, approaching the vessel. She clambered onboard with some assistance from Soos and reached towards an oval, magenta button. "Ooh, this one's pretty."
"Don't press it," Ford warned, making Mabel pause. "This is the ship Stanley and I take out onto the open seas when we hunt for various monsters and paranormal locations across the globe. It's got a number of gadgets, weapons, and inventions installed into it. That's why you shouldn't touch anything, and since Bill wasn't around when I made this ship, he won't be able to navigate the various gadgets either; he doesn't know where everything is or what it does."
"Sounds fair enough," Bill said, his shoes alternating between scrambling on the side of the metal boat's frame and resting against the sand, his hands clasping the edge of the hull. He was trying, in vain, to scramble his way up onto the deck. Stan rolled his eyes and reached over the port side, grabbing underneath Bill's arms and gently lifting him up onto the solid deck floor.
Once on the boat, Bill noted that the Stan O' War Mark Two was much nicer than the original Stan O' War, though it was still not anything someone could describe as luxurious or overly expensive. It had a decent metal hull that Bill could tell had seen some wear over the last nine months, rust in areas proving that it had been out to sea on numerous occasions: Only a sea-faring vessel would rust as much as this over the course of a short nine months. Bill glanced down the short cabin stairwell located towards the stern of the ship, noting that there was no doubt a small living space below deck that Stanley and Stanford could live in while out at sea for weeks on end.
"This is way nicer than my old fishing boat," Soos commented as he inspected the fishing gear and coolers. "Like, totally more cool, Mr. Pines. What kinda bizzaro things do the controls do?" He asked, pointing to the various installed buttons, levers, and knobs on a few panels near the steering wheel.
Ford shrugged. "Oh, you know, the usual. Laser cannons, hidden compartments containing various lab equipment, dart guns, harpoons, tasers, radars, all the necessities of a mystery ship."
"This o'er here is my favorite compartment," Stan said, walking towards the benches installed on the boat. He lifted the bottom of one of the benches to reveal a cooler stocked to the brim with beers of various sizes, shapes, brands, and flavors.
"That compartment actually came with the boat, you know, Stanley. We just opted to fill it with beverages," Ford smiled.
"Yeah, which makes it ma favorite!"
Mabel giggled and walked over, carrying the basket she'd packed their lunch in. She dropped in the various juice boxes and sodas she and Soos had packed.
"Sweet," Wendy commented, picking out a beer, which Stan instantly snatched from her hand and replaced with a Pitt Cola. "Aw, c'mon! I thought this trip was gonna be fun," Wendy complained lightly, none-the-less opening the soda and reclining on top of one of the white nylon benches.
Stan glanced up as Mabel, Bill, and Dipper clambered on top of the cabin and peered around the lake through the telescope mounted to the top of the cabin, Dipper yelling a few questions down to his bespeckled Great Uncle about which antennas mounted to the mast did what. It was at this time that Mabel slapped her fishing hat onto her head, gifted to her by her Grunkle Stan last summer almost exactly one year prior, and she replaced Dipper's cap with his own hat reading "DIPPY," Dipper not even pausing in his conversation with Ford. Stan snapped his fingers, having just remembered something he'd previously forgotten.
"Hey Ford!" Stan said, slapping a piece of cheap plastic-like cloth onto his brother's head. It covered his eyes and Ford paused his conversation with Dipper to lift it into his hands, inspecting it.
"Why does it say 'FORb'?" Stanford asked, smiling at his elder twin.
"Eh, the 'D's just on backwards!" Stan waved it off.
"You ran out of uppercase 'D's didn't you?" Ford laughed and put the hat on all the same.
Stan smirked and, with an almost predator-like smirk, snuck up behind where Mabel was still showing Bill various things through the mounted telescope. Before Bill even knew Stan was there, a piece of cloth was being slapped down onto his head.
"What the hell?" Bill began, looking up as the sound of stifled laughter filled the air. He frowned in confusion and pulled the cloth off his head, examining it. "How many times do I have to tell you humans that I. Am. Not. A. Dorito." Bill complained, glaring (pouting) down at the yellow capital lettering stretching along what he presumed to be the front of the hat, spelling out "DORITO BILL" with a backwards 'R,' slanted 'O's, and a crooked second 'L'.
"Why does his hat have a 'D' and not mine?" Ford asked, but was largely ignored.
Bill sighed, rolled his eyes, and put the fishing hat on his head. "Fine, I'll wear it, but only because it covers Mabel's ridiculous bow-clip."
Of course Mabel would have none of that and, five minutes later, they were setting off towards the center of the lake, Bill sporting a tan fishing hat on his head and a plush golden bow clipped into the hair over his right ear.
A/N: Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed!
Remember: Reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, buy gold, BYE!
(And I don't mean Level Of ViolencE. Haha.)
