"The Author of the Journals... My brother."
Stan had been sure that Ford knew only one of the rooms occupants. But, as he so often was, he was wrong.
Ford walked up to Stan, who held his arms out to hug him, but he was met instead with a fist in his jaw.
"That was for restarting the portal." Ford hissed, after Stan cried, "Ow! What on Earth?!" Ford's face was upset, and he pulled his fist back again. "And this..." He said, and planted it in Stan's stomach, throwing the other man back. "Was for creating the Mystery Shack! And if you didn't, it was for pushing me through."
Stan gaped at Ford, half in pain, and half in shock. How on Earth could Ford's know about the Shack? Was that even possible? He clenched at his stomach, Ford hadn't put enough force behind his hit to severely hurt Stan, but enough that it made him feel sick.
And of course, old instincts die hard.
Stan threw himself towards his brother. But Ford sidestepped him, and Stan crashed to the ground. He got up slowly, and tried to swing for his brother, but Ford grabbed his wrists and twisted them behind Stan's back, dashing around him and keeping Stan on the ground.
"Hi! Um... Mabel here... What on Earth is going on here?!"
Foed looked up and saw the sweater clad girl, for a second he was confused, then he took his knee off of Stan's back and straightened.
"So none of them were my niece... That makes me feel so much better for just leaving them."
"Say what?" Stan said, getting to his own feet and rubbing his head. "You know Mabel?"
Ford chuckled, "Know Mabel? I was literally trapped on a planet with a billion versions of her!"
Okay... Stan was confused. He watched Ford step over to Mabel and shake her hand, Mabel's eyes were wide, and she complimented Ford on his fingers.
"I wonder what kind of Mabel you are." Ford told her, earning him a confused expression from the girl. "Um... I'm a Mabel Mabel." The girl said, "What do you mean?"
Ford raised an eyebrow, a grin sliding to one side of his face. "Do you know stickers?"
Mabel rolled her eyes, "Do I know stickers? Pff, I practically invented stickers."
"Well..." Ford said, completely unfazed by the girl's bold statement. "Imagine a cat sticker. A pink cat sticker. Now imagine one just like it, now there are two cat stickers, right?"
Mabel nodded, "Two cat stickers."
Stan thought that Ford had gone a bit crazy. Only Stanford could try to kill an old man, then turn around and make an analogy about stickers. Ford had never really made much sense, but this was a totally different level of weird.
"Now, think of a third one, except this one it purple. Same shape, same size, just purple. Then a fourth that's the same shape and color, but bigger. But they're all technically..." Ford quietly watched Mabel after that, the girl squeezing her eyes shut, trying to picture what he had said.
"The same." They said at the same time. Mabel chuckled slightly, "So I'm a sticker?"
"Oh yes." Ford said, "And a cat. And a fire-creature, and a lot of other things."
"You really met a bunch of different Me's?!" Mabel asked, bouncing a little bit, "What was it like?!" Ford smile stayed on his face, and he straightened. He unfastened his black coat, and Mabel stared in wonder at his sweater that was under it. Her mouth hanging open in a half smile.
Ford's sweater was black, with thick-ish pink and purple horizontal stripes. On the front there was a silver six-fingered handprint, filled with matching pink and purple swirls and triangles. It looked very 90s.
"I believe my attire answers your question." Ford said, "They originally wanted to do the black part in neon green, but I talked them out of it."
Mabel let out a girly squeal. "It's perfect!" She cried, her hands wiggling like she desperately wanted to touch it. "I have to make myself one like that!"
"As if you don't already have a million like it," Ford's said, shrugging his coat back on. "Mabels will be Mabels."
"What?!" Stan yelled. This was officially the weirdest day of his life.
Ford was falling.
That was okay. He could handle falling, it was the landing that was the problem. Often Ford landed on something hard, he'd dislocated a couple shoulders that way... But he'd never fell a distance quite like this.
He'd only started freaking out when he'd been falling for two minutes, but when it had been ten since he'd been on solid ground... What's the worst that can happen? Instant death?
When he did finally land, he got a surprise to say the least. The ground was pillow soft, like he'd fallen an inch instead of a mile. And, surprise number two, he wasn't alone.
He was in a sea of little girls.
He scrambled to his feet, and noticed another strange thing. All of the girls looked similar, like they were the same person... Oh goodness, was that a giant planet head?!
The closest girl to him (uncomfortably close) looked up into his face and asked, "Whoa. What kind of Mabel are you?"
Ford blinked at the girl, he was just noticing that her brown fluffy hair was made out of yarn. Wait, not just her hair. Her entire body was a knitted wool! That was weird. And did she just ask if he was a 'Mabel'?
He heard a dramatic gasp, and turned around to see a 'Mabel' that was part human, part dolphin. "That's not a Mabel! That's a Grunkle Stan!"
"Grunkle Stan?!" A thousand voices called out at once, and suddenly a throng of Mabel's were crowded around him. They were all calling for his attention repeating "Grunkle Stan! Over here! Over heerrreeee!" over and over again.
Normally, Ford's would just have backed quietly out of the situation, but he was surrounded on all sides by the girls. He held his hands up and shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Um..."
"Everybody quiet down!" A loud, commanding Mabel voice brought the din around Ford's to hushed whispers. "Let me see him."
The Mabels parted, and a new version stepped towards Ford. She was in a purple pencil skirt, her hair was up in a tight bun, and her Shooting Star emblem (which almost all the Mabels had) was a necklace.
She held came up to him, and sighed, "Sup?" She asked, "I'm Secretary Mabel, I'll be asking you a few questions..."
Ford blinked at her. Okay... This was making less and less sense... "And I have a few for you." He told her, and she nodded. "They always do... Mabels that is..."
Well. This was officially the fourth weirdest day of Ford's life.
"Honestly, do you only eat foods that consist of gummies?"
Ford had expressed his desire to eat to the girls, who were all warm and welcoming, if not a bit harebrained. Instantly they referred him to Chef Mabel, who was... Well... A Mabel in a chef costume.
She'd handed him a menu and left to get her kitchen started. Ford tried to not pay attention to the sea of brown eyes that followed his every movement, but it was difficult. He shrunk into the opened menu, and read the glittery font.
Gummy worm pizza. Gummy bear spaghetti. Gummy eggs... It was a miracle all these girls were alive! Ford would have to check them for diabetes later.
"Well, to be completely honest, no." Chef-bel said, "We do have cupcakes..."
"Not better." Ford said, snapping the menu shut, "Do you have any vegetables or protein?"
"Say what now?" Chef-bel asked, tilting her head and making her white hat fall off her head. She squinted at Ford as he sighed. "Vegetables and protein. Part of a balanced diet? Even I know this!" Ford ran a hand through his hair, hissing slightly. "Of course, you're all twelve... If I could have gotten away with only eating jelly beans at that age..."
"You like jelly beans?" Chef-bel asked, picking up her hat and bouncing a bit. "That's awesome! I like jelly beans! They're my favorite! Want some?"
Ford bit his lip. The last time he'd had jelly beans was... His own dimension... Boy it had been a while. The thought of having his old favorite candy again was tantalizing. But nutrition...
Meh. Nutrition could die in a hole. Ford could indulge himself just this once.
It wasn't like he was going to start acting like these Mabels... Right?
"Good morning Dino-bel. Good morning Lightbulb Mabel. Good morning Ma-bro. Good morning Hand-bel. Good morning..."
It was hard to believe that Ford had been on planet MAB-3L for two months. He'd been getting better at all the craziness that was the Mabels. To be honest, it was quite nice to spend time with people who were bursting to the brim with imagination.
He met a few new Mabels every day, and he would listen to whatever crazy story about their lives and how they got stuck on the planet. They all loved his fingers, in a respectful way, and each one of them had to get over the fact that Ford wasn't Stan.
Speaking of Stan...
"Heeyyy! It's Stanbel! Hiii!"
Ford stared open mouthed at the little... Girl? that had the face of an older version of his brother. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to apologize to the poor creature that was this version of Mabel... Wait. Could there be a Fordbel? The very notion was more frightening than category one Ghosts...
Needless to say, he respectfully told Stanbel that he never wanted to see her... him... Again. But, of course, that made Stanbel cry... Or, as... It. It said, "Attack glitter in my eyes."
Ford got himself as far away from that monstrosity as he could. There were some creatures in the Multiverse he just couldn't understand. But he did feel kinda bad though...
"You made me these?"
Ford was presented about a billion sweaters. His old black one was "Disgusting and depressing", and apparently smelled like week old socks. Ford stared at the sea of sweaters, nearly as many as the Mabels of MAB-3L...
"Yup!" A Mabel in a top hat said, proudly displaying her train sweater, "You deserve it!"
Ford smiled nervously. His eyes scanned the plethora of neon sweaters that surrounded him. "Um... If I only take a couple will you be mad?"
"No!" The Mabels said in unison, but Ford doubted it. His life was very interesting now...
"So why did you punch me again?" Stan asked, watching Ford feed Waddles.
"Um... The Mabels talked me into it." Ford replied. "I got a basic summary of what you'd done in my absence... And if I'd made a mockery of everything you'd ever loved..."
Stan hissed slightly, but nodded towards his brother. The pig was enjoying the presence of the new old man, and Ford's seemed delighted to meet the pet he'd been told so much about.
He had already scheduled an appointment with Dipper, and was going to answer most of the boy's questions (something he'd learned from Secretary Mabel). Dipper already had a notebook full of questions, and was pacing back and forth in his room, probably sweating profusely.
"Yeah..." Stan said, but before he could continue Ford cut in, "Not like you need help with that."
Stan's jaw hung open, did Ford just..? He chuckled and raised his eyebrows at Ford, who was scratching behind Waddles' ears nonchalantly, like he had just said that the sky was blue.
"Did you just make fun of me?" Stan asked, sitting on the living room floor next to Ford, who shrugged, and started scratching Waddles' newly exposed stomach.
This would take some getting used to.
When Ford realized that he had spent four months with the Mabels and hadn't realized that they were just as trapped on MAB-3L as he was, he had felt like facepalming. How could he have been so oblivious?
Theoretically, it shouldn't take too long to get a spaceship up and running. But the Mabels weren't rocket scientists, at least, none of the ones he'd met were.
That's when they told him about Brain-bel.
Ford understood getting distracted from work (DD&MD anyone?) but what Brain-bel was doing... How? It was just unacceptable!
What Ford needed was to implant the drive to help the Mabels want to leave. For the most part, they would be perfectly content with just spending the rest of their lives eating candy, talking, and knitting sweaters.
But what was something they all had, that they'd really want to get back..?
"Come on Brain-bel, there has to be something you miss from your home Dimension?" Ford asked, sitting next to the girl, who was reorganizing her sticker collection for the upteenth time.
"Mm-hmm," she hummed, clearly uninterested in what Ford was saying. She put a pink cat sticker next to a matching purple one, then flipped the page.
Ford sighed. But he still held hope inside of him. He turned back to the sea of Mabels and paused for a moment to stabilize himself before yelling, "Does anyone miss anything from their Dimension?!"
A chorus of "Waddles!" "Dipper!" "Mom and Dad" and "Grunkle Stan!" Met Ford's ears. This would do perfectly.
"Alright Mabels!" Ford cried, climbing to the top of Dino-bel, "Do you want to see those people again?!"
A thunder of "Yeah!"s came from the crowd of girls that were pressing around him. Brain-bel even looked up from her scrapbook for a moment.
"Well, if you ever want to see those people again, we have to work together!" Ford cried out, raising a fist in the air. "I need experts. I need builders. I need Mabels!"
A strong series of "Yeah! Let's do this!" came to up to Ford, who grinned. Mabels were very easy to inspire.
"Secretary Mabel, meet me in my office in an hour. We'll discuss planning. Brain-bel, try to focus on the rocket... Oh, who am I kidding, just give me the stickers."
About a week after Ford returned to his Dimension, he had the most peculiar urge to cover everything he owned in sparkles.
That was strange.
He had noticed a distinct lack of bright colors in his possessions, and knew he needed to rectify that issue immediately.
He really starting worrying when he woke up one morning and for breakfast put maple syrup on his cereal.
He had a problem.
"Stanley? I have a very important question to ask you."
Stan looked up at his brother from across his office. Ford looked nervous, and Stan instantly knew that he wasn't joking.
"Okay..." He said, ripping up the newest list of complaints he'd received.
Ford stepped into the room, and made his way over to sit across from Stan at his desk. He breathed in deeply and kept his eyes focused on his brother's face.
"Stan... Am I a Mabel?"
For the briefest second Stan was shocked, then a he snorted through his nose and began to laugh. Ford looking uncomfortably down at his bright orange sweater.
"Are you a... Are you a Mabel?" Stan chuckled out, "What on earth makes you think that you could be that?"
"It all makes sense." Ford said, pushing the chair away from the desk and standing up. "I love playing with Waddles, I really really like hanging out with Dipper, I'm good at art... Everything!"
Stan couldn't help but stare at his brother like he was crazy. Ford was a Mabel? But Mabel was a Mabel... What?
"Why I ended up on MAB-3L... Why I like sweaters... Stan! Help me!"
This was interesting...
Heya smart guys!
This prompt was sent to me by annabethchase'sdagger. Thanks again! I hope it may your satisfaction. I leaned more on the MAB-3L part than the apostrophe-backslash, but I liked that better. (And MM&MM stands for Mabels, Mabels and More Mabels.)
Thank you everyone who has viewed/reviewed this fic. (Thanks TFD for the screaming head, it reminds me of when my siblings were babies...) You guys are amazing!
As always, stay happy, healthy, safe and weird! Platonically love you guys.
-BrilliantLight