"Can it Poindexter!"

Ten-year-old Stan glared at his twin, sitting across the kitchen table from him. Ford cut off his rant instantly, his bitter feelings still inside of him. Ford was finally looking like his jacket was making him hot, but he still refused to take it off.

He opened his mouth to say something else to his brother, but he was immediately cut off by Stan nearly yelling, "I said can it!" He snarled at Ford, showing his uneven teeth. Almost to his shock Ford snapped his jaw shut, a vein in his neck starting to pulse. "You're always telling me how I should act! Well I don't wanna hear it!" Stan crossed his arms, then turned to storm out of the room.

Ford watched him go silently for a second, then he followed him. "Stan! Wait!" he called out after his brother. "Come back!" Stan turned towards him for a second, glaring firmly at him. "No!" He shouted. "I'm going to our room. I don't wanna see you!"

All Ford could do was watch his brother dash away, his legs not wanting to move.


After what had felt like an eternity (and he had been dreading the fact that it might become that) Ford found himself standing in front of his brother, inside of his home dimension.

A home dimension. That was something Ford never saw himself returning to. Many times he had met travelers who had told him about their own home dimensions, and how they couldn't wait to go back. It stung something fierce when he heard that, because he had thought that there was no way he could go back. Back to his universe, back to his home. Q'idar, he wished he could go back to Glass Shard of all places, that's how desperate he was.

Yet there he found himself, back. After all that time. And... all he could feel was anger.

The rational part of his brain hoped that Stan would understand. But literally every other part wanted Stan to either be dead or wish that he was. Instinct (since when had that become instinct) took over, and the first part of him that touched Stan in thirty years was his fist. Ford really hoped that his face bruised or something, or he'd have to try again.

Stan (like any normal person) instantly asked in a pained voice why Ford had done that. And Ford responded the only way he knew how, with facts.

"This was an insanely risky move, restarting the portal," He snapped, emphasizing his sentence with a wave of his hand. "Didn't you read my warnings?" Typically, Stan didn't listen to Ford, and made an appeal to his emotions. "Warnings, shmornings." Stan said, showing a blatant disregard for everything Ford had just said. "How's about a little 'thanks' for saving you from... what appears to be... a sci-fi sideburns dimension?"

So Stan not only didn't seem to care that he had just put their entire universe at risk, but he also didn't even try to understand what Ford had gone through!? The nerve of him! It was conscience alone that prevented Ford from reaching a hand into his coat and pulling out a blaster. If Stan was going to verbally spar, Ford was up for it as well.

"Thank you?" Ford asked, his fury boiling down to a simmer. "You really think I'm going to-"

"You're welcome." Stan butted it. "See? Was that so hard?" Ford blinked at Stan, who acquired a smug look. "Man, pretty soon you might actually put some weight behind your words."

The nerve of him! Stan had tricked him into... Stan hadn't... He was expecting... Ugh! Was there a dimension where his twin wasn't so annoying?! If so, Ford would really like that Stan to teach his a lesson. "Stan, that's not what I..." He started, but yet again Stan cut him off.

"Oh, I know what you meant. It's just if I take that as gratitude it makes the rest of this easier." Stan snapped, crossing his arms and nodding. "Look, there's some stuff I need to tell you-"

"You haven't even listened to me!" Ford said, raising his arms above his head. "Why should I listen to you when you obviously won't take the time to care!" Stan didn't even blink at Ford's statement, choosing instead to snap, "How do you know I don't care? This was going all fine and dandy until you decided to punch me!"

This was insane. Stan needed to open his eyes and see that Ford was right. Stan had probably exposed their world to Bill. Stan hadn't listened to Ford's instructions. Stan had been the one to enact them in the first place. Stan was... Stan was...

"Well maybe I wouldn't have punched you if you didn't act so rashly all the time!" he spat at him. He was ready for another insane comeback from his brother, but instead he was met with Stan snapping at him in the harshest voice he had ever heard, "Can it Poindexter!" Ford was not ready to can it though, so he opened his mouth, and just had time to say, "I-" when Stan yelled, "I said CAN IT!"

That got Ford to shut up. Not just externally but internally as well. Stan looked just like he did when he was a kid and Ford or a bully had pushed his buttons one too many times. It was actually quite a scary sight. Stan jabbed a finger out towards Ford, and said in a loud but low voice, "Don't you ever say that I don't care about you again."

Ford opened his mouth to defend himself, but Stan shook his head. "I spent thirty years working on getting you back. I care about you. And before you say that I'm stuck in the past, yeah I'm stuck in the past! When it comes to you!" He took a step forward, and quieted his tone a bit, though still sounding commanding. "Do you know who I've spent three decades trying to get back? You. Not my ex, not my friends, not mom or dad. You. Don't mess this up for me again."

The last sentence he said was filled with so much force that Ford blinked. Stan's finger was pointed right at his glasses, and Ford could now see the bandage that was wrapped around Stan's hand. Stan had sacrificed so much... just to get him.

"Now. There's a few people I want to introduce to you. But unless you promise not to break them, or their hearts, I don't think I will." Stan said, backing away from him and letting Ford feel like he could breathe again. Ford blinked at his brother, then behind him at a cluster of figures standing behind him. "What do you say?" Stan asked after a second, and Ford shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"I promise."


Ford was grounded in every way except name. Stan was keeping him in line, which Stan found easy and Ford found extremely difficult. Ford found himself dreading the light, because with it came Stanley. His brother was constantly checking up on him, making sure he had eaten, and wasn't making some sort of death ray in the basement.

It was frustrating, being treated like a child again. Ford was so used to no one at all caring about him, that the first time Stan checked up on him he almost ended up getting a burning hole in his abdomen. Of course after that he admonished Ford, and told him that he shouldn't keep dangerous weapons around his super-delicate science stuff.

He found himself getting increasingly moody. He'd skip meals just so he didn't have to interact with his family, but whenever he did that Stan always stormed down to the basement an hour later and scolded him. Whenever Ford pointed out that he was an adult (admittedly in a louder and harsher tone than really necessary) Stan would shout at him once again to 'can it'. Ford grew to hate those words.

But finally, after Ford skipped family meals for about a week, a different figure entered the basement. Ford literally pushed himself further into his research, lifting a thick heavy book with tiny font and long words up against his nose, covering his eyes. A lighter sound than what he was used to padded towards him, and he heard a firm knock on the side of his door.

"Stan took out the locks right after I got here." Ford snapped, rereading an excerpt about mutations for the fourth time. His door swung open with a barely audible creak, and a small voice that Ford instantly recognized said, "I wanted to let you know I was here. I brought you waffles!"

Mabel. Ford took a second to weigh the potential effects of a conversation with her, and decided that it was worth it. At least she didn't have Stan's nasty gravelly voice, even if she was his little puppet. An adorable puppet, but one nonetheless. Ford hated puppets, himself having been one many years prior.

Ford wanted to say that he wasn't hungry, but his completely empty stomach betrayed him the moment he smelled the food. "Thank you Mabel," he said cautiously, dog-earring the book and setting it down on his desk. Mabel walked happily up to him (her positivity was unmatched, Ford would have to see if there was a metaphysical way to harness it), and set a tray of waffles with smily faces cut out of them in his hands.

"I hope you like them." Mabel said, smiling at him and taking a single step away from him. Ford felt... uncomfortable having his niece watch him eat, but the very second he lifted the first bite up to his lips he found that what his niece was doing wasn't important to him. He scarfed down the entire plate's worth of waffles, and found himself feeling sad that they were all gone.

Mabel looked a mixture of her normal chippery-ness and nervous. It made Ford feel a bit offset. His niece's expression made him feel... feelings. A blasted alarm in his head told him that this was all his fault, and that he was horrible, and that Stan was utterly right. Ford really did need to can his thoughts.

But he still didn't want to do that.

"They were quite enjoyable, yes. Did you add some sort of candy?" The more he thought about it, the large a pit grew in his core. Doing his best to distract himself he decided to prompt one of his niece's long rants. Mabel did not disappoint (Ford was beginning to think that she was unable to do so). "Yeah! I added skittles. I was going to add jellybeans, but Grunkle Stan said no. So I just added those. Dipper said that those would be bad for your health, since I also added like... two cups of sugar. But I think that I can fatten you up a little. Not that you need to get fatter, you totally rock the silver-fox look." Her eyes turned a bit glossy, and a wide grin passed over her face. "I should introduce you to Candy and Grenda! Man! They'll love you!"

All Ford could do was nod as Mabel began to ramble on about her friends. Then the next thing he knew Mabel was throwing herself on top of him and telling him that she'd be back in an hour.


"Hubba hubba."

"You were right Mabel. Your uncle is the handsome one."

Ford had almost forgotten that his niece was bringing her friends. In the course of a minute he had gone from stressless solitude to being surrounded by three preteen girls. Mabel had grabbed his hand before he could dash off, and her friends... seemed to find him attractive? Wasn't that... He... He was having quite a hard time wrapping his head around that.

Mabel giggled loudly, squeezing Ford's hand tightly. "Aww thanks. But I didn't do a thing to him. It was the sci-fi sideburn dimension, right Grunkle Ford?" Any other time that the horrendous nickname for what Ford had gone through was said Ford would have snapped at the one who said it, but this time he simply corrected her with a firm, "Multiverse. I was in the Multiverse Mabel."

"Oh," Mabel's friend, the one with large round glasses, said, "His voice is so deep and smooth. Like chocolate ice cream." A series of giggles echoed around him, and Ford found himself blinking at the girls, who seemed to not have listened to a word he said. Crossing his arms over his chest he said in a stern voice, "What are you three talking about?" The three of them giggled, louder this time.

"Take me with you!" Mabel's deep-voiced friend called out as he started to make a beeline to the door. She wrapped her large arms around his legs, offsetting him and nearly making him trip onto his face. Ford wobbled, a feeling of anger starting to build up in his chest. "Let go of me!" He nearly shouted at the girl, then Mabel gasped. "Grunkle Ford! That's no way to talk to a little girl!"

This was insanity. Ford could feel his mental abilities shrink every second he spent with these three. "Mabel, listen, she has literally wrapped her arms around me." He waved down at the girl,, who had her face smushed up against his calves. Mabel let out a disapproving puff and said, "You still don't get to yell at her." Blinking at Mabel Ford shook his head. "Mabel, please get your friend off of me."

Mabel crossed her arms, "No Grunkle Ford. I think you need a hug. And Grenda has a name." It was Ford's turn to sigh, and he did it very loudly. "Well, Grenda, I appreciate the gesture, but please refrain from wrapping you arms around my legs. May I suggest me waist as a better option."

The next hing he knew Grenda's arms were around his middle, squeezing the breath out of his lungs. "Candy! I can feel his abs!" the deep-voiced tween said, and Ford felt his cheeks turn pink. "And he is blushing." 'Candy' said, making Ford's cheeks go even redder.

Maybe talking to Stan wasn't such a bad idea.


After an excruciating hour of hanging out with his niece and her friends, Ford dragged his mentally exhausted body upstairs, after making sure that the three girls had left the premises of course. Looking around the gift shop and only finding Stan's teenage employee he started to make his way towards the kitchen. Unfortunately Wendy seemed to have other ideas.

"What happened to you?" the teen asked, looking up from her magazine about avoiding eye contact (was it a spoof magazine?). "You look like you got mauled by kittens." Wanting to avoid the actual proceedings of the afternoon Ford decided to just say, "What is a 'Silver Fox'?"

Wendy's eyebrows raised instantly. A smile played on her lips and she looked like she was ready to burst out laughing. "Well... To put it simply. You." Ford was not at all impressed by her answer. "Obviously, or Candy and Grenda wouldn't call me that. But what does it mean?" That time Wendy actually did laugh, "Look man, all I know is that if you look it up it says Stanford Pines. Ask Siri or something."

Not knowing who 'Siri' was Ford decided to just leave the teen to her work. He shook his head and stepped into the hall between the shop and the kitchen. He'd have to ask Stan who Siri was along with his explanation.

Not finding his twin the kitchen he turned and walked into the living room/man cave. Sure enough, there was Stan, watching a movie... with ladies in pretty dresses at a wedding? Had his twin truly lost his mind... But that was beside the point.

"Stanley? May I discuss something with you?" Stan looked up at him, grunted, then said, "Make it quick. I want to pretend to punch Lionel in the face once he shows up." Ford had no idea what Stan was talking about, but he moved over to stand next to his brother. "Stan, it appears I've judged you too harshly." Stan let out a huff, and muttered, "Wow. He's grown a brain. I thought it was just a motherboard up in that head of yours."

Not granting Stan's comment much thought Ford continued with his speech. "Stanley, after witnessing at least a fraction of what you've had to put up with this summer, much less everything else over the years, I've come to the conclusion that life in 74'\ sucks, and you've been here far longer than I have." Now it was Stan's turn to be confused, even looking at Ford instead of the captivating screen.

"If you've had girls throwing themselves on top of you and commenting on your appearance like I have, then-" Ford continued, and he was cut of by Stan making a sharp laughing sounds. "What?!" Stan asked, chuckles echoing from him. "Girls commenting on your appearance? What alternate reality have I woken up in?" Ford shrugged, "As a person who has visited multiple alternate realities I have absolutely no idea. I mean, one of them even mentioned my abs."

Before Ford could say another word Stan started to laugh uncontrollably. "You- Abs- Stop! That might make Dipper weaker than- Oh my." There were now tiny tears building up in Stan's eyes, and Ford found himself actually relieved that he was on the same page with his brother. "Yes." Ford said, as soon as Stan stopped laughing as hard. "Now, as I was saying..."


From the brief interations Dipper had seen between his uncles, he was altogether unprepared for what he saw one day about two weeks after Ford had started living with them. He found Stan and Ford sitting next to each other in the living room, Stan in his chair and Ford on the floor next to him, watching The Duchess Approves, and making witty comments about it.

He decided to leave them to it. No point in ruining something that was already good.


Hello friends! Long time no see again.

I've been good, just had stuff on my plate to do. But I squeezed this chapter out for you guys! I'm thinking of updating some of my other fics next, so let me know which one you'd like to see!

I was inspired by the opening of Not What He Seems, when Stan says, "Can it Poindexter!" So that led to the beginning, and I sort of went off the script for the second, which was inspired by one of the Blacklight edition of the Journal's quotes. Namely: 'Find out what a Silver Fox is, and why everyone keeps calling me one'. I don't think poor Ford ever will. Plus I just wanted a bit of Ford interacting with Candy, Grenda, and Wendy.

Also, this is not reached over 20,000 views! Thank you guys so much!

Stay happy and sane!

-BrilliantLight