I'm not dead! A lot of things have been changing in my life recently so it's been hard to catch up with writing. Things should be more under control now though, but regardless I'm not gonna let myself go this long without an update again. It's been killing me not having this out until now. Anyway, here it is!
Things are really heating up...
Here's chapter 59 of "Welcome Home".
Ford had been at his desk, writing away and rambling on about his theories for the gold he had discovered. He'd only gotten up once, and that was to put on his lab coat. There had to be more about the gold that he still had yet to find out. His hope was to find out as much as possible- as soon as possible. The longer it took, the more Ford felt stumped. He'd hit a small roadblock in his theorizing which was causing him to feel frustrated. After writing down what he had on his mind about the gold, he set down his pen and planted his elbows on the desk, burying his hands into his hair. With a low sigh, he hung his head.
Meanwhile, Fiddleford had been heading down to the basement to check on Ford. He hadn't seen him since the night before, and saw it as right to make sure his friend was alright. When the elevator opened, he noticed Ford slouching slightly with his elbows on the desk. Had he fallen asleep? McGucket had seen him fall asleep like that before, so he couldn't check that possibility off the list until he looked. Fiddleford proceeded into the lab and walked up to the scientist.
Ford heard the footsteps and took one arm away from him to look beside him. He noticed McGucket standing behind him and raised an eyebrow, turning his head to face him better.
"Hey there," Fiddleford greeted. "Ye' feelin' any better?" He asked.
"A bit," Ford answered. "I felt miserable this morning." He added in a mumble.
McGucket snickered. "Looked the part last night." He informed. "An emotional wreck ye' were." He said.
Ford moaned and facepalmed, scowling. "Excellent." He grumbled. McGucket frowned. "Did I do anything, well... stupid?" He frankly inquired.
Fiddleford stood silent for a moment. Ford caught onto the silence and gave him a look. McGucket gave an awkward chuckle and looked away. "Eh... I guess ye' could say that." He answered.
"Like?" Ford questioned.
"Well," Fiddleford began. "Ye' got pretty emotional." He said.
Ford gave a slow nod. "Not the first time I've heard that about how I behave when I'm intoxicated." He responded. He sighed and turned back to look at his work. "Oh well." He muttered.
McGucket leaned over his shoulder and looked at what all Ford had laid out on his desk. He saw the chunk of gold and rock and raised an eyebrow. "What's this?" He asked, pointing towards it.
"I haven't exactly found the answer to that yet," Ford admitted. "But by the looks of it, the substance seems to be a type of gold." He continued. "Before he went missing, Bill told me that he wasn't convinced it was of higher value than other golds. He'd also said that he couldn't identify what it was, which leaves us with a mystery." He said.
Fiddleford hummed. "So thas' what ye' made the ring outta'?" He asked.
"Precisely." Ford confirmed. "I was able to take some of the gold and smelt it to create the ring. It was the same one I'd brought with us and slipped into Bill's pocket the other day." He informed.
"And yer' convinced that this substance gives 'im a boosta' power?" McGucket questioned.
"From what we'd seen and experimented with, yes." Ford said. "Bill's seemed to react more intensely with his magic capabilities when we've been around the gold. We tried working with it a bit and my theory was correct." He stated.
McGucket gave a slow nod. "So what's the ring ye' gave 'im for?" He proceeded.
"Just a precaution," Ford replied. "If, say, Bill was in an unfortunate situation, or he was overpowered by in some way, it may give him a little helping hand." He said.
"I'm not sure how much he'd want ta' depend on somethin' that was handed to 'im." Fiddleford said.
Ford gave a light shrug before picking up his pencil. "If the situation was too bad, he would do what he could with it." He reasoned.
"True." A voice said from behind. McGucket and Ford both heard the voice and turned around in confusion to look at the person who had entered. Ford looked over to see Chris standing there. The blonde was wearing a white shirt with a light pink pocket at the front, along with grey jeans.
"How did you get in here without us hearing you?" Ford asked.
McGucket looked back over at Ford for a moment. Te' be fair, he never really seems ta' notice when anyone comes down till' they say somethin'. He thought to himself.
"I just used the elevating box gizmo like everyone else does." Chris responded. "A-Anyway, I've got a question I've been meaning to ask." He said.
"Proceed." Ford beckoned.
Chris gave a nod and gave a scratch to the back of his neck before speaking. "If it's not too early, or just a bad time in general, do you think we could go back to the studio and save my brothers?" He asked. He noticed the scientist's brows furrow slightly and gulped. "I-I know it might not be easy, b-but I did my part of the agreement. I did what you said and we found Bill-"
"We didn't rescue him." Ford snapped back with a scowl.
Chris frowned. "B-But that wasn't part of the deal." He responded. "I know you're worried about him, but all you said was that we find him and you'd help." He stated. Chris shrugged. "Besides, while we're there, maybe we'll get another shot at getting him." He reasoned.
"And what's the point in that?" Ford asked. "You heard what Bill said back there. He likes it there. He's not coming back." He said.
Fiddleford faced towards Ford. "Ye' know, Chris is right. Even if things din' work out how ye' wanted 'em to, he still fulfilled his parta' the agreement." He said. McGucket folded his arms. "It's only fair to 'im thatcha' go back."
Ford released a sigh and massaged the bridge of his nose for a moment before responding. "I know, I know." He assured. "I'm not going to rip him off. Chris did his bit, now I have to do mine." He said.
McGucket nodded and looked over at Chris with a slight smile. "He's justa' little sour about all'a this." He explained. Chris gave a nod.
I suppose that's a fair way to put it. Ford thought to himself. He leaned back in his chair a bit. "I just don't see how Bill sees that horrid place so... beneficial to him." He said.
Chris opened his mouth, then shut it. Hesitantly though, he raised a finger up slightly. The two older noticed his behavior and glanced at him with slightly confused expressions.
"Somethin' wrong?" Fiddleford asked.
Chris bit his lip and cupped his hands together. "Uhh... i-is it a little too late to say that Bill was forced to say all that junk by Bratsman?" He asked.
McGucket's eyes widened, and Ford gave a look of horror. His shock quickly mixed with the anger that kicked in, and he scowled at the clone.
"Yes!" Ford cried out with a glare, giving something close of a death stare towards the blonde.
"Pardon?" Fiddleford asked.
Chris saw the looks and cringed. "Well... yeah," He muttered. "No one would willingly stay there. And Bratsman's pulled this kinda thing before." He informed.
"And you didn't think to mention this sooner?" Ford snapped, glaring.
Chris frowned. "I-I thought you knew that," He said. "Or... figured it out at some point, anyway." He added in a murmur, looking down at the floor.
"Oh boy." Fiddleford muttered.
"This doesn't make sense," Ford started after taking a moment to process the information. "There's no way that... man could stop Bill. Let alone force him to say or do something he didn't want to do. He's much stronger than that." He said.
McGucket hummed. "Maybe he was bribed with somethin'? Blackmailed?" He said, giving a rub of his arm. "I understand blackmail." He added in a quieter tone.
Ford gave a slow shake of his head. "Doubtful," He replied. "There's not much Bratsman could do to get Bill to comply with what he wants." He said. Whatever was going on, surely Bill wouldn't go along with orders so simply, let alone ones he didn't like.
"Nah, he's got a point." Chris said, looking over at McGucket. Fiddleford noticed the glance and smiled. Stanford simply lifted an eyebrow. Chris walked towards the others and leaned against the scientist's desk. The blonde looked down at the older man. "Did you see the bracelet he was wearing?" He asked.
Ford furrowed his brows in thought for a moment before looking back at the blonde. "I don't recall." He admitted.
"Bratsman has these little bracelets he uses," Chris revealed. "He puts them on one of us and keeps the controller with him. He has control in that kinda situation. Makes you feel trapped no matter how rebellious you are." He said.
"He hasn't used one'a them things on you, has he?" McGucket asked, hoping that wasn't the case.
"Only once," Chris replied. "I tried to escape one time, and I had a good chance at it. He knew that and put one on my arm." He said.
"What does it do?" Ford asked.
Chris stayed silent for a moment. He gave a slow shake of his head. "Nothing good, that's for sure." He started. "They can give you little warning shocks, but..." He continued, stopping partway through his sentence. He didn't want to continue it for the sake of the others.
Ford wasn't so keen on the hesitation, however. He looked at the other with an impatient expression. "But what?" He pushed, wishing to know the whole truth as opposed to only part of it. If it was being discussed right now, they might as well know. Chris stayed silent. Ford furrowed his brows. "Well?" He demanded with a scowl. He figured that the clone might as well say it. The more they knew about what was being dealt with, the better.
Chris just sighed. "They explode." He said, hanging his head slightly. As much as he understood the curiosity, he wasn't so sure the others would have wanted to know once they actually did.
"What?" Ford cried out. He hadn't expected the answer to be anything good, but the truth was still alarming.
"My baby!" Fiddleford exclaimed. He rushed over to Chris and patted the blonde's arms and torso frantically. "Yer' okay, arent'cha? Nothin' on ye' exploded, right?" He asked in a rush.
"I'm alright, dawg." Chris assured with a slight look of unease, grabbing the others hands and taking them away from him. He put his hands in his pockets. "I'm sure Bill's fine, too. He went back with our producer that day, so Bratsman wouldn't hurt him like that." He said.
Fiddleford nodded. "Ergman still needs 'im, don't he?" He asked, trying to look on the bright side of things.
Chris shrugged. "Well, he could go without him." He responded. Ford groaned, whereas Fiddleford gasped.
"We've gotta go!" McGucket exclaimed. He took a step away from Chris and instead went to Ford, grabbing hold of the black strap across his chest and looked at him with a frantic expression. "Ye've got some gizmo's we can use, don'tcha?" He asked.
"What are you doing?" Ford asked, looking down at his chest. Fiddleford looked at his hands and removed them from the other. Ford looked back at him with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm not lettin' anything happen to yer' lover boy that ain't good for 'im, especially if he's waltzin' around lookin' like him!" McGucket cried out, pointing at Chris. He looked at the two who hadn't moved and waved behind him. "C'mon!" He exclaimed.
Chris looked past the frantic man to see Stan across the room, coming out of the elevator. He didn't look happy. If anything, he looked annoyed.
"We can't be hasty," Ford told Fiddleford. "We need a plan first." He stated.
"What's this about a plan?" Stan asked, looking at his twin as he came up to the others. The other looked at him in confusion.
"Stanley?" Ford addressed. He stood up from his chair. "What are you doing down here?" He asked.
Stan narrowed his eyes. "Nice ta' see you too," He grumbled. He pointed at his brother. "You idiots aren't plannin' another crazy thing without me, are ya'?" He asked.
"...We don't exactly have a plan yet." Ford replied, folding his hands behind his back.
Stan folded his arms. "Well ya' ain't leavin' me out of this one." He stated.
"You're joining us?" Chris asked.
"Whatever weird stuff you three are cookin' up down here, I want in." Stan said. "I'm tired a' layin' around this dumb ol' shack like some side character." He continued. Stan nudged Ford out of the way and took a seat in his desk chair.
"We're gonna go get Bill outta' that studio." Fiddleford informed.
Stan hummed. "Ya' got a plan?" He asked.
Ford stared with half-lidded eyes, showing his unamusement. "I just pointed out that we-"
"Violence!" Fiddleford exclaimed.
"Yes!" Stanley agreed to without hesitance. "I like that idea." He said.
"We'll have to be careful," Chris reminded. "Bratsman's got a lot of tricks up his sleeves. We'll need some sorta back up plan in case our main one we come up with flops." He said.
Ford gave a nod. "I agree with that," He said. "Might I suggest we-"
"Ya' know what else we'll need?" Stan asked, cutting Ford off. Chris raised an eyebrow. Stan grinned. "Disguises!" He said, confidence in his idea.
Fiddleford wrinkled his nose. "Why?" He asked.
"I'm not sure we-" Ford tried.
"Think about it!" Stan interrupted again. "You nerds got kicked out last time. Whoever's in charge there is gonna have an eye out for ya'. Goin' in there all casual is gonna getcha' inta' even more trouble than you're already gettin' yourselves in for." He said. Stan put a finger up. "I say we get us some disguises and then make up some fake identificatio-"
"Hello?" Ford shot suddenly, putting his arms out beside him. The other three's eyes widened in unison, and they turned to look at him. Stan's expression mellowed back down when he did.
"Hey." Stan said simply with a wave of his hand. Chris snorted.
Ford furrowed his brows. "Must I remind you all to not be so hasty?" He asked. "We can't just jump into this with one little bright idea and expect for all to go smoothly." He said. "Disguises and weapons are things that could work, but based on my experiences of dimension hopping, we'll need an actual plan before we head into all of this." He pointed out.
Stan groaned. "This isn't gonna take three hours ta' plan, will it?" He asked, tilting his head back in the chair in annoyance.
"Well, that depends." Ford replied. "We have Chris who knows the building better than the rest of us, and Fiddleford has past experience with their little boy band." He said.
"In that case, I'll be back." Stan grumbled. "Goin' ta' get my brass knuckles for later. Might need ta' knock somebody out." He said, grinning at the idea of violence. Ford just sighed, watching his twin leave.
Stan scratched his side and remembered that he was still in his around-the-house outfit. He figured he might as well get into his suit if they would be going somewhere in what he assumed to be a few hours. He entered the elevator and watched the doors shut, leaving him alone once more, away from the others. This wasn't such an uncommon feeling for him. Ever since Fiddleford and Ford had met up again and began spending their days together, it seemed as though Ford was always occupied with either Fiddleford or Bill. That demon seemed to occupy a lot of his brother's time as well. Usually, the mornings were the best time to communicate with the scientist. Talking with him before his twin rushed off to do something else with his day seemed like the time they spoke most frequently.
Stan admitted that it was much less quiet without the blonde around the shack, but after growing accustom to it over the past year, it began to seem a bit odd to him. This was weird enough, being that Stan had spent nearly 40 years of his life, for the most part, all alone. He'd made some friends and foes throughout his lifetime, traveling from state to state and getting banned in many along the way, but none of the people he'd gotten on his good side ever really stuck with him. Ever since Stanley had gotten Ford back from the multiverse, his life seemed less lonely. Nowadays though, Ford always seemed to be occupied with other things. It didn't help things when Fiddleford had ended up staying at the shack with them after the whole fiasco with Mr. Powers. Now that he thought about it, at this point, McGucket was practically moved in with the rest of them. He had his mansion, and yet he was here. It had been months- why couldn't he just go back to where he really lives?
The con man sighed and brushed off the topic in his mind. He knew it would help nothing to complain to himself about people occupying his brother's time, especially given the fact that they were currently trying to find a way to get one of those people back to the shack. To be fair, it seemed to him from what he'd heard that where Bill was staying was dangerous. He knew that his brother wouldn't be happy if something had happened to him. He was already upset with the fact that he was missing. Stan didn't want anything bad to happen to Bill, of course, but he also felt as though the others were overreacting with all of this. Surely the demon couldn't be in too much danger. He was powerful, after all, and could surely use the power he possessed to his advantage. Then again though, Stan didn't know the full story. Just bits of it. Perhaps there was a missing piece to the puzzle that he just wasn't aware of.
The elevator opened and Stan stepped out of it. He walked up the stairs, holding onto the rail at the side and grunting at the slight aching in his knees. Age kept hesitantly catching up to him, and he didn't enjoy it. Thankfully it was nothing too bad. He reached the top of the stairs and gave a slight sigh of relief. He turned and pushed the vending machine door open, stepping into the gift shop.
"Alright," Stan muttered to himself. "Where'd I put those darn knuckles last?"
Stan didn't see them in the gift shop, as he figured they wouldn't be, and decided to go check in his office. If anything, that would be the most likely place. He normally kept them in his drawer, but he was also well-known for misplacing things. He popped his back and walked into the living room, heading to his office. It wasn't until he heard a knock at the door that he stopped in his tracks.
"Eh?" Stan questioned aloud. He raised an eyebrow and headed towards the door. When he opened it and looked to see who it was, a wave of both shock and guilt rushed through him. His mouth hung open for a moment when he saw Susan standing there, but brushed off his emotions for a moment and decided to play it cool. He leaned on the side of the doorframe and gave what he assumed to be his charming smile.
"Hey there, toots." Stan greeted, as if he hadn't completely forgotten about the plans he had made with Susan a few days prior.
Susan gave a chuckle at the nickname. "Hello to yourself," She replied. She wasn't completely happy with the con man, but couldn't stay too upset, especially after the charming greeting he had given. Regardless though, her smile faded slightly. "I didn't see you around the other day." She began.
Stan froze for a moment. "Uh, yeah! About that," He began. "I uh... well, sorry about that." He apologized, cringing at his politeness for a split second.
"Did something happen?" Susan asked, a slight look of sympathy appearing.
Stan's expression froze for a moment. He gave an awkward chuckle, an awkward grin on his face. "Uh- well, ya' see," He began, stumbling over his words. Taking one look at Susan told him that she didn't want lies. Unfortunately, Stan wasn't very good at telling the truth. He scratched his side and said, "We had some trouble with the kitchen sink," He lied. "Started floodin' the kitchen. Coulda' drowned if I hadn't saved things in time." He said.
Susan's sympathetic expression only increased. "Oh, you poor thing!" She began. She put her hands on the con man's shoulders and frowned. "Would ye' like some pie?" She offered.
"Uhhh..," Stan began, looking away and behind him for a moment. He was supposed to stay here, right? Looking back at Susan and her expression told him that it would be best to leave with her, especially since he'd missed the time they planned the last time. Surely leaving for a little while couldn't hurt. With that, he grinned. "Sure, sugar cube!" He said, shooting her a grin.
"Great!" Susan said, a smile appearing. "Then after that, I'll introduce you in person to all of my cats!"
Stan scrunched his nose as Susan turned away, grabbing him by the wrist and beginning to walk off with him. "Great." He grumbled to himself. He looked down at himself to remember that he was still in only his tank top and boxers. He stopped Susan and informed her that he was going to get changed first. Susan nodded and waited outside, watching Stan head back into the shack. Within the next few minutes Stan returned outside with her in his usual suit attire. Stan flashed her a grin and Susan locked their arms. Stan looked down at their arms in confusion, but didn't move his from Susan's. Something deep down told him that he still had a liking for affectionate behavior from the woman.
Two hours had gone by, and the three down in the laboratory had come up with a well thought-out plan. They were confident with their work, but needed Stan back to review it with them to see what he had to say, so they could explain what parts he would take in the plan.
"Are ye' sure about this?" Fiddleford asked.
"From the looks of it, this seems like it will work." Ford responded, looking down at the long sheet of paper spread across his desk. They had written things down as they went, and figured it may be easier to explain to Stan if they had everything right there.
"He should've been back by now," Chris observed. He raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Ford. "Right?" He questioned.
Ford gave a slow nod and looked behind him. "Yes, he should have come back a while ago," He said. "Perhaps he skipped out so we could figure it out, and when we did, then he would come back." He assumed.
"Sounds like Stan." McGucket said with a cackle.
"I suppose I should go fetch him." Ford said. He walked away from his desk, instead walking towards the elevator. He didn't stop the other two when they followed along behind him. They all made their way to the gift shop.
Shutting the vending machine behind them, they took one look in the gift shop and saw no sign of Stan. Ford figured to check his office, whereas Fiddleford and Chris checked other rooms of the house. They took a few minutes searching, only to find no sign of Stanley. The three met back in the living room.
"Any sign of 'im?" Fiddleford asked.
"Nah. Couldn't find him, not even in the trash." Chris replied with a shrug. Ford shot the other a stern scowl. Chris saw the expression and tilted his head. "What? Do people not hide away in garbage cans?" He asked. The silence told him that that the answer was no. He looked away, then back at the others. "Just me?"
"He must have left." Ford grumbled, looking at the front door partway across the shack. He noticed that the door was cracked open slightly. He rushed towards the door, opening it and looking outside.
"Everythin' okay?" McGucket asked, following behind the scientist.
Ford scanned the outside to see a car unfamiliar to him driving away towards town. He glared at the vehicle that contained his brother who was running off with some other person.
"Damn you, Stanley!" Ford shouted, angrily shaking his fist towards the car before raising his two middle fingers at it, his grip on the doorknob handle increasing.
Chris heard the shout and cringed. He hesitantly approached and raised a finger slightly. "I'm just gonna assume from the reaction that he's gone." He said.
Fiddleford furrowed his brows. "Why would 'e leave like that iff'n he knew we'd be needin' 'im?" He questioned, putting his hands on his hips.
Because he's a dumbass. Ford thought to himself the moment the question hit his ears. He shook the thought out of his head and gave a heavy sigh. "I don't know." He responded. He hung his head slightly. "But he'd better have a damn good explanation when he gets back." He grumbled, shutting the door.
"We're waiting on him?" Chris asked, eyes widening.
"We have no choice." Ford responded, turning back around and looking at the other. "Stan has some crucial roles he needs to take part in for this plan to work. We can't go on without him, not after all the planning we did." He said.
"What about the backup plan?" Chris questioned.
Ford shook his head. "That's much too risky. And he's involved in that, too." He responded.
McGucket frowned. "So there's nothin' we can do?" He asked.
"If you have any bright ideas, throw them at me." Ford replied, putting his arms behind his back. He looked down at the wooden flooring. "Otherwise, we'll have to wait for him to return." He continued in a mumble.
Chris wrinkled his eyebrows, looking away in thought. Fiddleford noticed his expression and merely raised an eyebrow.
"Unless..." Chris began hesitantly, putting his hands in his pockets. Ford looked back up and turned his head to look at the blonde. He too raised an eyebrow. Chris noticed the glances and gulped. "W-Well, what if we followed them?" He asked.
"Genius!" Fiddleford quickly agreed, regardless of how much confidence he had in that idea.
Ford, however, truthfully spoke his mind. "The car didn't seem to be going slow. It'd be nearly impossible to track down at this rate. They could have taken any turns at any time." He said.
Chris gave a slight shrug. "It's worth a try," He argued. "The longer we wait deciding if this is a good idea or not, the further away they're getting. If this seems like the only other option, we should go with it." He tried.
"Genius!" Fiddleford praised again, agreeing with practically everything his idol was saying.
Ford adjusted his glasses and gave a slow shake of his head. "It seems like a waste of time." He said.
"Are you willing to take that risk?" Chris questioned in a suddenly stern tone. He looked the scientist up and down before taking a few steps closer. Ford looked down at the blonde and furrowed his brows slightly. Chris folded his arms. "We won't know if this is a waste or not until we try. And besides, what else is there to do without your twin here with us to finalize the plan?" He asked.
Ford stared at the other for a moment, considering the proposal. After a moment, he glanced towards the door. "You're right." He muttered, the words coming off as slightly painful to speak. Chris gave a nod of his head and faced the door, opening it back up. McGucket scurried out with passion, Chris following behind him. Ford was quick to follow along with the others. He took the car keys out of his lab coat pocket and hurried to the vehicle. The three entered the car the moment he unlocked it, Ford getting in the drivers seat. He turned the car on and almost immediately drove off. Chris hit his head on the headrest of the passengers seat and scrambled to put his seat belt on as Ford drove off. He was just thankful that they had gotten the tire changed.
In just moments, they drove off. There was no sign of the other car on the road. Ford scowled and upped the speed, ignoring the speed limit for the time being. Fiddleford quickly noticed this and looked at the author in concern.
"Stanford, yer' goin' a little too fast there." McGucket warned.
"Ah, Stan's already messed up the track record under my name." Ford responded, giving a roll of his eyes. He wasn't sure he'd ever let that go. Fiddleford gave a hum of unsureness and folded his hands in his lap, looking out the window. Of course Ford was only going along with such things given the circumstances, but he still felt a bit uneasy.
Bill had been constantly trying at his magic for hours. The golden ring was assisting him in obtaining a slight power increase that was just barely able to surpass the bars on the 'window' of his cell. If he could even call it that.
His situation reminded him a bit about when he had first been restricted to the human form he was still in now. At one point he had no access to any kind of magic, only getting slightly stronger with his abilities over time. Now, he was restricted under the power of a specific material, of all things. Not to mention that Bratsman had the upper hand over him.
"This cell has to have a weak spot for escape. I just have to find it..." Bill thought to himself, folding his arms and looking around once more.
Bill caught sight of the excuse of a window behind him to his right and approached it. He looked out the window to see a bird flying in the distance, only to smack into a tree. When the blonde saw this, he snickered.
"Funny." Bill muttered. He then focused on the bars and grabbed hold of them. He tried shaking them or making then loose, but the bars didn't seem to budge. He glared and tried harder, shaking them more forcefully now.
"Come on, you stupid pieces of matter." Bill grumbled, scowling as he shook. The only thing that was shaking was him, however. The bars wouldn't move an inch.
Bill took a step back and glared at the iron bars. They wouldn't seem to cooperate when he shook them. It seemed like he would need to try something else. The bars figuratively looked back at him in a mocking manner, one Bill wished not to see. His fists clenched and they shook slightly at the frustration of the pitiful iron that kept him so weak.
"I hate you." Bill said aloud, as if the bars could actually hear him. Although Bill figured the same statement could easily be applied to Bratsman as well. How much he wished he could see the producer's advantage crash and shatter. Bill knew that if he had his ordinary levels of power, he would unleash all hell on him. He wanted nothing more but to destroy the man after how much he'd done.
Bill took a fist and punched one of the bars on the window square. His fist made contact with the bar and a sharp, rough stinging pain surrounded his knuckles. He gave a deep huff of breath and withdrew his hand from the window. After a punch he had a moment of slight satisfaction hit him. Bill looked back at the window only to see something had changed. He focused in on the bar he had clocked and noticed that it was no longer standing straight. The bar had a slight dent in the middle and was curving outwards towards the outside. Bill's features brightened and he brought his hand up to the bar, shaking it. The bar still stood still, but it made way for a small opening. He hummed and stuck his hand between the bar he had dented and an undamaged bar. He was surprised when he found that the bars had just enough room apart to where he could stick part of his arm out of the cell.
Bill removed his arm from in between the bars and took a step back, grinning. "I think I found a solution." He said aloud. He had found his ticket to freedom.
"Ya' sure you've got nothin' better to do?" Stan asked as they approached the diner. Regardless of him figuring the others were still concocting a plan back at the shack, he felt some guilt for leaving the others.
"Not a single thing!" Susan replied, following beside Stan. She had invited him to the diner to catch up and make some conversation. She laughed. "Actually, days are typically lonely." Susan added, opening the door.
Stan could easily believe this. "Ya' don't say..." He muttered. Stan walked through the door with Susan and they took a booth, sitting across from each other. Susan set her purse down on her seat and tapped her fingernails on the table. Stan took his fez off for a moment and brushed his fingers through his hair before placing the fez back on his head.
Susan saw her coworker pouring some coffee for a man at the counter and put her hand up in hopes of signaling to her. "Delores!" She called out.
The woman mentioned turned her head and walked towards their booth. She looked at the two and gave a smile. "Do you need something, Susan?" She asked. Looking at Stan for a moment before looking back at Susan. "I see you brought him along with." She added, giving Susan a wink and a slight nudge. Susan gave a wave of her hand and rolled her eyes, looking away with a blush.
Delores laughed and got out her ordering pad. "What'll it be?" She asked.
"Two slices of our special pie would be perfect." Susan replied. Delores understood and gave a nod of her head, heading towards the kitchen to prepare the requested pie.
"Special pie, eh?" Stan repeated, raising an eyebrow and giving Susan a look. "That some sorta secret recipe?" He questioned.
Susan gave the con man a smile. "I guess you could say that." She admitted. "It's very nice." She continued.
"Ya' know, I tried makin' my own pie recipe once." Stan began. "Didn't really work out how I was hoping." He gave a short laugh. "Heck, I nearly burnt the kitchen to the ground with that pie. Apparently setting the oven heat for much higher degrees than the usual pie recipe doesn't work well if you're tryin' to cook it fast." He said.
Susan gave a chuckle. "That's silly." She responded. She looked back towards the kitchen to see Delores coming back towards their booth with two plates in her hands. She stood by the booth and placed one plate in front of them both. Stan looked down at the pie to see it was filled with a variety of berries. He gave a hum of approval.
"Enjoy your pie!" Delores said with a smile. Susan thanked her coworker, receiving a nod in return before the woman walked off to help her last customer for the day.
"So what, this your day off?" Stan asked, picking up a fork in his hand.
"Not exactly." Susan replied. "My coworker over there asked to fill in for my shift today, so I have the day to myself." She said.
Stan cut into his pie with the side of his fork before looking back up at the woman. "So... you're spendin' your day with me?" He asked, unsure if that was her intention or not.
He got an answer when Susan nodded. "Of course! I'd spend the afternoon with you any day!" She said with a smile. "Especially if the shop's open. How's business?" Susan asked.
"Good, good, uh... nothin' unusual really, except for a missing employee." Stan replied.
Susan's mouth opened slightly. "Really?" She asked. A smile grew on her face. "Did Wendy graduate and leave for college?" She questioned.
"What?" Stan blurted. He gave a shake of his head. "No, no, nothin' like that." He said. Susan's smile faded back into her resting face. Stan gave an awkward laugh. "It's uh, the blondie." He informed, taking his fork of pie up towards his mouth.
"Oh, I see." Susan responded. She grew curious at hearing about the absence of the blonde. "Is he on vacation?" She then asked.
Stan nearly spat the piece of pie in his mouth back onto the plate at the question. Susan gave a look of surprise at the sudden reaction. He gave a hard clearing of his throat and pounded his chest with his fist, swallowing the pie in his mouth. Susan saw the reaction and tilted her head in concern. After a quick moment Stan pulled himself back together.
"Oh, I wouldn't say vacation." Stan began, folding his hands together on the table and looking away awkwardly. "He uh... he got taken away." He continued in a lower tone.
Susan's confusion quickly turned to concern. "That's terrible!" She cried out, causing someone in the diner to look her way. Stan cringed. She frowned. "Well what happened? Is he alright?" Susan proceeded, clearly worried for the blonde that was still somewhat unfamiliar to her.
"Oh, uh... yeah! He's fine." Stan lied, scratching the back of his neck. "It's nothin' serious. Just some work stuff." He continued. And while this wasn't exactly true, well... it was more of a half lie.
Susan gave a light sigh, her mood calming. "Well that's a relief." She said, a laugh following along.
Stan had a guilty grin and gave a short chuckle along with. "Yeah..." He said, awkwardly looking away from the woman. He didn't like feeling the guilt for his lying, and the feeling was still somewhat new to him. He supposed Mabel had rubbed off on him much more than he would have liked to admit. He shook his head to rid of the thought and looked out the window. "Could kill for some ice cream right about now." He muttered to change the subject, speaking his desire just loud enough for the woman across from him to overhear.
"We have some in the freezer," Susan offered. Before Stan could request some for the two of them, Susan stood up. "I'll go fetch some, on the house." She said with a smile before walking off.
Stan watched Lazy Susan leave to the freezer. When she disappeared through the restaurant's kitchen door, he looked down at the salt and pepper on the table beside the napkins that were in the middle of said table for convenience. He put his elbows down and weaved his hands into his hair. He wondered if the others had noticed he were gone. Sure they had been down in the laboratory for multiple hours, but there was still a chance that he was needed there with the rest of them. They were concocting a rescue plan, after all. Surely they would need Stan there. He normally wouldn't feel guilty for running off under strange circumstances, but the reason for him leaving the shack compared to the reason they would need him severely outweighed the silly reason he was at the diner with Susan.
What was he even doing at the diner with her, anyway? Sure he had missed the original time he had scheduled with Susan, and that was on him, but was what they were doing right now worth it? Stan was sure his brother would have something to say when he came back to the Mystery Shack, but even now Stanley had a feeling that Ford knew he was gone and was already upset about it.
As Stan zoned out, wondering a series of questions to himself, Lazy Susan returned with two bowls of ice cream. She walked towards the table and set one bowl of chocolate ice cream down by her side, the mint ice cream between Stan's elbows that rested on the table. She sat down and took her spoon in hand, seeing the con man's features brighten slightly when he caught sight of the sweet, minty dessert in front of him. He took hold of his spoon and grinned down at the bowl.
"This ice cream and my mouth are mint to be." Stan said, taking a sample of a joke from his joke book. He took a scoop and brought it up towards his mouth before stopping, scrunching his nose and cringing at himself. "Oh, that pun was horrible." He realized.
Susan gave a laugh in return. "I found it funny." She replied.
Stan gave a slight shrug. "Ah, i'm sure you did." He muttered to himself before focusing back on his ice cream. Susan hadn't heard the man's comment and dug in to her dessert.
After a few minutes of driving the three came up to a few roads. Chris noticed this and looked around, trying to see if he could spot where the car Stan had left in was still driving off.
"Any sign of him?" Ford asked.
Chris gave a shake of his head. "No, just a guy on a bike." He replied.
Everything was silent for a few moments. No one was speaking, and the car was quiet all until Chris spotted a figure in the near distance from them.
"There's a blonde dude there!" Chris pointed out. McGucket and Ford were both surprised with the sudden comment. They were looking for Stan, after all, and were not at all expecting to come across Bill on their way. He was still at the studio, after all.
...Wasn't he?
Regardless, the two both looked in the direction Chris was pointing towards, trying to spot the man he was bringing to their attention. Ford caught sight of the person and narrowed his eyes slightly.
"It's hard to tell." Ford said. The man they were looking at was too far away for them to say for sure if it was Bill or not.
McGucket looked away from Chris' window and instead looked up front. His eyes widened when he saw a car headed straight towards them.
"Look alive!" McGucket shrieked, pointing in front of them. Ford looked back for a moment and saw the other car was dangerously close. He panicked and gave a harsh turn of the wheel, instead going on another road. One with a much shorter distance. Too close ahead of them there was a "Dead end" sign. Ford swore under his breath and tried to stabilize the vehicle, afterwards slamming his foot on the brakes. The brakes seemed to be working too slowly compared to the seemingly abandoned construction ditch directly in front of them.
Their car encountered a bump, but afterwards stopped moving. It almost seemed as though they were stopped by magic. But what kind of magic would be able to help them here? And... who? Ford took his foot off the brakes and looked forward in confusion, the other two looking ahead with him. In the near distance they caught sight of a man in a white jacket who wore a matching white hat. The person's fists were clenched, which they assumed was a part of the reason they felt magic in the air. The man began walking towards their car, though he wasn't rushing his arrival. The hesitance was giving Fiddleford goosebumps. He looked forward in shock.
"I-Is that-?" Fiddleford began, his eyes wide.
"No way!" Chris added, unsure if himself and McGucket were seeing the same thing. What had the blonde done to get back to them? And where was Bratsman and his brothers now? Bill was alone there. Clearly his brothers weren't with the demon right now. Chris just hoped they were safe. He looked on as the blonde approached them.
Ford also looked at the man, a look of speechlessness on his face. How had Bill escaped? Had he used the ring he had supplied to him, or did the demon find another way to find his freedom? The blonde proceeded towards them, giving the scientist a relieved feeling apart from all of his confusion.
"He did it." Ford muttered, giving off a small, grateful smile.
Ah yes, a cliffhanger. I'm so kind, aren't I?
A little fun fact, I named the lady in the diner 'Delores' based off my great grandmother who recently passed. I couldn't think of a name for the character, so I just went with that.
The next chapter should be up soon. Definitely earlier than this one was. Stay tuned!