A/N: I'm truly sorry about the long delay. School and work got in the way, as they always seem to do. Anyways, this story is starting to wrap up now so one or two more chapters are left. They'll be updated regularly again (usually shooting for one chapter a week.)
The air hung heavy in the room. Every member of the park crew all huddled together in a sort of huge hug, all of them silently mourning the loss of their dear friend, Skips.
Breaking the silence was the ghostly form of Wendy, who was still hovering in the room. She let out a short yelp.
"Uh, guys what's happening?" Wendy spoke, as she started to hover towards her human body.
"Don't worry, Wendy. You're going to be fine." Dipper offered with a small reassuring smile.
With that, Wendy's soul leaped right back into her body on the ground. An eerie green light engulfed the teen's body as she was being made complete again. She shuddered and twitched on the ground as life was once again brought to her lifeless vessel. After several minutes, the glowing ceased and Wendy went limp.
She then slowly opened her eyes.
"Whoa... That was the weirdest feeling ever..." Wendy said, picking herself up off the ground.
She then remembered the awful events that transpired just hours ago:
Robbie.
The knife.
Dying in a pool of her own blood.
Automatically, she felt her hand reach behind her back to the spot where the knife had been plunged into her back. All she felt was smooth skin.
No scar.
No trace of her ever being stabbed.
"Oh man, it's like nothing ever happened!" Wendy exclaimed. A puzzled look overcame her face all of a sudden. "But, uh, can someone explain to me what the hell happened back there?"
Dipper ran over and gave the redheaded teenager a quick hug.
"It's actually a long story... We'll catch you up later." Dipper said calmly as he slowly broke away from the embrace.
"Well, alright then I guess." Wendy replied, still wanting to know what had transpired while she was dead.
Benson cleared his throat and walked toward Stan on the opposite side of the room.
"So, I guess we're done here." Benson began, eying the old man the whole time. "Thanks for helping us out... Even though it's your fault that we all almost died..."
"You're welcome?" Stan replied, not knowing if that's what the gumball machine wanted to hear. "I... Uh, I guess you'll be on your way then..."
"Yeah, I mean, we have to get back to the park to sort out the aftermath of what happened. So, I guess this is goodbye."
"Heh heh... Yeah, you can come back and visit anytime!" Stan joked, trying to liven up the mood a little bit.
Benson's stony stare hadn't faltered, his eye twitched as rage started to boil within him. He was about to unleash a verbal tirade, but then caught himself.
No, it's not worth it...
It's over with...
Benson turned, then motioned to his employees to follow him into the golf cart. After everyone piled in, he threw the cart in gear and sped off down the dirt trail that lead out of East Pines.
Watching the cart speed off down the trail, Stan was once again hit with a surging wave of guilt.
I can't let them go back to face Maellard alone...
He'll fire them for sure...
I've gotta set things right.
Stan started to fish through his pockets hurriedly. After a few minutes of searching, he found what he was looking for: a set of keys. He then ran over to the Mystery Cart and started it up.
"C'mon, everyone. We're going for a little drive." Stan barked rushedly from the driver's seat.
"Grunkle Stan, where are we going?" Dipper asked as he, Mabel, Soos, and Wendy made their way into the cart.
"You'll find out when we get there." Stan replied as he pressed the gas pedal to the floor.
Benson drove the cart through the front gate of their own park. The devastation from Gideon's attack was still there. Overturned benches, broken trees, large scorch marks in the earth from raging fires. It looked like a complete warzone.
The park house then came into view.
Please let Maellard not be here...
Please let Maellard not be here...
Benson mentally chanted, hoping not to see any sign of his employer.
It was then that he saw the limo parked out front of the house.
"Shit. Shit! SHIT!" Benson yelled as he pounded the steering wheel with his fist.
"Benson, what's wrong? You're acting cra–" Mordecai began, noticing Benson's strange behavior. But then he saw the familiar limo.
"Ohhh... We're screwed..." Mordecai moaned as he covered his face with his wings.
Without any other option, Benson pulled the cart up to the front of the park house. Shutting off the engine, he addressed his coworkers.
"Alright guys, apparently Mr. Maellard is here and that probably means bad news for all of us. I don't know how we're going to explain all of this to him; but however it turns out, we're probably all in a huge amount of trouble."
Just as Benson finished up his little speech, the front door to the park house swung wildly open. Out sprinted a short, ancient old man with an enormous head. The scarf around his neck flapped madly as he made his way down the stairs. Within seconds, he had made his way over to the park crew.
There he was, Mr. Maellard, standing right in front of them. To say he was furious would be an understatement. His face turned a violent shade of red as he surveyed all his employees standing in front of him. He was ready to explode.
"BEANTON!" Maellard barked out madly, mispronouncing Benson's name on purpose. "DO YOU MIND EXPLAINING WHERE YOU ALL WERE? I'VE HAD TO TRY TO SORT THIS WHOLE MESS OUT BY MYSELF! WHERE ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH HAVE YOU ALL BEEN?"
"Well, Mr. Maellard, we were trying to–" Benson started.
"You know what? I don't even care! All of you are fired for abandoning your posts!" Maellard roared with finality. "I want all of your stuff out of the park house in two days!"
Everyone looked on in shock. They would have never thought that Maellard would get rid of every single one of them. Of course, except for Pops, since he's Maellard's son, he gets to stay.
Maellard once again surveyed all of his former employees. His icy stare swept over them again and again and again. With a puzzled look, he gruffly questioned the group.
"Skips? Where is Skips? He'll tell me the truth about what's going on."
"Mr. Maellard, sir." Benson. "Uh... Skips is no longer–" Benson began, but was cut off yet again.
Although it was not Mr. Maellard who had interrupted. Benson had become distracted by an object moving at an insane speed towards the group. As it hurriedly made its way over, he saw an all-too-familiar sight.
The Mystery Cart screeched to a halt right in front of the park crew, then shut off. Out of the cart came five familiar faces from the previous day's events. Stan jumped immediately out of the cart and headed over. Not even bothering to look around, he made a beeline straight for Benson. His posture was slumped and nervous, beads of sweat had formed at his brow. His fez that he previously wore on his head was now in his hands. He clutched it tightly with both hands.
"Look, uh, Benson. I really hope I didn't cause you guys too much trouble with your boss." Stan mumbled apologetically. "I'd like to–"
Stan never finished that thought. As he spoke to Benson, his eyes swept over the group to look at the faces he came to know over the previous day. He froze up when he saw the short old man with the giant head. A face from his past. Stan could not speak, he was frozen in utter terror.
Maellard's expression quickly turned ferocious when he realized who it was standing before him. It was unmistakable as to who the man was: cheap suit, giant glasses, and the trademark fez. For a second, Maellard couldn't believe who it was before him, but the bitter thoughts soon flooded back into his mind. There was a look of pure hatred directed at Stan.
"Heh heh... Hey there, Ogden... Long time, no see eh?" Stan babbled nervously.
Maellard just looked on with his icy stare.
"Stanford Pines." was all Maellard said in a low, almost inaudible voice.
He continued to look on with that same piercing stare.