"Anndd... The first question is... " Bill shot a look at Dipper, as the crowd continued to wonder just what the hell was going on.
Feeling all those eyes bore into him, the pre-teen squirmed on his leather stool. Out of all the horrendous situations the dream demon had implanted him into, this was by far the most nerve wracking... And this was Bill's idea of a FAVOUR?!
He was abruptly brough back to Earth with a cuff round the head from the host's stick. "OW!" Dipper rubbed his lobe, and scowled at Bill, who had begun to approach him while glancing back at those watching from their seats.
"Come on kid, don't freeze on me now! This is your one big shot! And, besides... YOU'RE RUINING MY BIG BREAK INTO SHOWBUSINESS!" Bill suddenly started whispering to the boy. "Unless... You have someone ELSE in mind you'd like to go out with... Someone who isn't behind one of those booths..."
Suddenly, Dipper felt a (forked) tongue licking his hearing organ, and a seductive hand slowly working it's way up his thigh. The younger Mystery Twin froze in shock at the triangle-turned-human's chutzpah, and could only say "GA GA GA GA GA..." as Bill massaged the lad's ear with his mouth... While the dream demon's fingers inexorably made their way to their intimate destination...
"Just say the word, and I'll send these losers home , Pine Tree." Bill's words sounded as soft as freshly melted ice cream "Then you and I can have a more 'private' session... Just the two of us, alone, in the Dreamscape... Doing whatever we want..." Dipper started to relent, it all felt so right. "We can kiss... Cuddle... Stick forks in each other..."
"NNOOOOO!" The pre-teen pushed off the dream demon after hearing that last part. What HAD he been thinking?! This was a homicidal creature of destruction he was dealing with... Not a potential romantic interest. Besides, Bill was FAR too old for him (By a few millenia at LEAST) and Dipper was not a masochist. At least... he THOUGHT so. So, why was there a bit of hesitation there? OF COURSE! It was this place... Screwing with his head... Yeah, that was it...
The host frowned at Dipper's rejection. "Huh. YOU'RE no fun. I wasn't really interested, anyway. I was purely testing your sexuality, to see if you were valid for my show or not. Congratulations, you passed the FINAL, FINAL test. Now, I'll just disperse this barrier..." The kid looked up, and for the first time noticed that Bill's attempted seduction had gone unnoticed by those in attendence, since for the last few minutes the pair had been encapsulated by a yellow forcefield that protected them from prying eyes.
"Just to avoid any lawsuits... No witnesses, you see." Bill winked at a horrified Dipper.
"SORRY FOLKS, TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES!" The host trumpeted to those forced to watch "BUT WE'RE BACK! Now, Dipper Pines if you would, ask away! Those lovely ladies aren't getting any younger, you know... If you take too long... They might start to be out of season, and how are we supposed to have any Dipper Jnrs running around if that happens?!" This earned a laugh from a few audience members/hostages, who figured: As they were inescapably detained anyway, they might as well TRY and enjoy themselves.
If Dipper had been skittish before, he was practically on the verge of fainting now. Between his relocation to this imaginary Bachelorette-inspired nightmare, to Bill's attempted molestation of his person, he was about ready to kiss the floor, not one of those anonymous females. But, being a born tryer, he frantically searched his panicking brain for SOMETHING, ANYTHING...
Then, he hit upon an idea. It was a question Mabel had posed, many a time on the sheets of paper she handed out to random visitors to the Mystery Shack (or, more specifically, young, male and cute ones). The forms were SUPPOSED to be enquiring guests about how to improve the shack ('Condemn it' Dipper had thought with a smile at the time ) and Mabel had very kindly offered to have them printed out for Grunkle Stan... Little suspecting, of course, his cunning niece was planning to use them in a nefarious plot to snare Mr Perfect.
And the question was...
"What would you say is your best feature?"
At this, the crowd (Who were slowly but surely getting into the spirit of things) audibly groaned ("YOU WUSS!" Dipper swore he heard his Grunkle shout) and Bill facepalmed with his free hand. "Gee, never heard THAT one before, Pine Tree." said the dream demon... To laughter from the audience. "Oh, well... If THAT'S the best you've got... Go on ladies, tell us... What 'Is your best feature?' " Bill mimiced those last four words in exactly the same manner as Dipper. MORE laughter from the audience. The boy frowned.
WHEN did these idiots forget that they were being held prisoner by an evil, megalomaniacal triangle?!
Regardless, the speakers inside the booths were turned back on... And now it was time to hear what the 'lovely contestants' had to say for themselves:
BOOTH 1: "I can speak four languages (including Klingon), attach devices to my person to make a super-cyborg-girl, and, in a bad light, am the spitting image of Phoebe from Hey Arnold!"
(Bill murmured to Dipper "That last one's debatable") "OKAY, THANK YOU! ON TO THE NEXT ONE!"
BOOTH 2: "Let me see now... Err... I can talk to all reptiles (except dinosaurs), Can eat a hundred doughnuts in less than a minute, and can underarm fart the American national anthem. Here, I'll demonstrate... PARP PARP PARP..."
"THANK YOU DEAR, MAYBE LATER!" Bill seemed determined to move on swiftly (" How patriotic! She sounds like a keeper!" He remarked to Dipper).
BOOTH 3: "HA! What a stupid question! I can get anyone to do my bidding, I can own whatever I want, I can go wherever I want to go... What ISN'T my best feature is what you should be asking..."
Bill suddenly lost patience with booth three, and magically made a piece of paper appear in his hand. "OH I'M SORRY, NUMBER 3... I JUST REALISED WE HAVE A SPECIAL VERSION OF THAT QUESTION JUST FOR YOU!" He read. "WHAT I MEANT TO SAY FOR NOMBRE TROIS WAS: 'WHAT IS YOUR BEST FEATURE... THAT IS NOT MONEY RELATED?!"
BOOTH 3: "What?! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! I'LL TELL MY DA... Actually, no he wouldn't listen to me, after what I just did. Err... Well... I'm pretty good at mini golf... And my hair's very long... And... Can you come back to me in a moment, please?
"NO, YOU HAD YOUR MOMENT AND YOU MESSED IT UP! ON WE GO!" Bill abruptly cut her off in her prime, again telling Dipper covertly "Not that I mean to influence your decision, but would you REALLY want a snob like that bossing you around?! You'd be even LESS of a man than you are at the moment." Before Dipper could protest, the show continued.
BOOTH 4: Well, yeah. I like glitter, smiles, happy thoughts, garish clothes, sunshine, and kittens with mittens. But, listen Dipper... As much as I like you... I can't go out with you, because... Jeez, this is awkward... How can I put this... (Let him down gently)... Here goes... *DEEP BREATH*... I'm your...
"WHOOPS!" Interrupted Bill. "DON'T WANNA RUIN THE SURPRISE NOW! LET'S HEAR IT FOR HIPPY... I MEAN, CONTESTANT NUMBER FOUR!" Dipper was having trouble keeping up with everything. But, now it was time for...
BOOTH 5: "Oh, I HATE these type of shows... My dad's the real fan of them. But anything that'll get me out of here faster... I enjoy climbing, plaid, chopping down big trees, breaking into disused convenience stores and stealing police cars. Now, if you don't mind releasing me, I have to meet my parole officer at..."
" I THINK THAT'S ENOUGH FROM NUMBER 5!" Said an agitated Bill ("Well, Pine Tree, you certainly can pick 'em" he whispered to Dipper on the sly) "LET'S SEE IF OUR LAST LADY CAN DO ANY BETTER..."
BOOTH 6: "OH DIPPER! DIPPER, MY SWEET! WHY ARE YOU EVEN CONSIDERING THE OTHERS, WHEN I'M CLEARLY THE GIRL FOR YOU! FORGET THOSE OTHER HUSSIES, AND I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT A REAL WOMAN CAN DO! DO YOU WANT ME TO BEG, DIPPER? COS I'LL BEG, DIPPER! I'LL BEG FOR YOU! PLEASE, MY BIG DIPPER, MY STRAWBERRY DIP, MY LUCKY DIP, BE MINE! PLE..."
"Er, and that was booth number six" said Bill, only mildly disturbed after all that. ("It says a lot about YOU, Pine Tree, that she sounded the most sane of them all" he said to Dipper, privately.) " And now, before we move onto the next question, I have a special treat for you all..."
"FREE DRINKS?" Someone shouted. "No" replied Bill, bluntly, as the heckler was given another dose of electricity running into his seat.
"Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, I have here the latest advancement in accurate audience approval ratings... THE CLAPOMETER!" Bill stood to one side, as two of his 'sexy' assistants (who looked just like him in his triangle form, minus the long eyelashes) floated a device onto the stage covered in a blanket, which was quickly removed by the host, to reveal a long, yellow, thin ruler-like machine, with numbers 0-10 marked clearly on it.
"Go on, don't lie... YOU'RE IMPRESSED, AREN'T YOU?!" Bill clearly expected those watching to be awed by this 'cutting edge' device. Instead, he was greeted with yawns and eye-rolls.
" CLAPOMETERS?! We had them around in the 70's! " That was Lazy Susan, stifling a giggle.
"YES! I REMEMBER THEM! AND THAT'S SAYING SOMETHING... BECAUSE I CAN'T REMEMBER MUCH ELSE!" Toby Determined stammered, trying to cover up the pink tutu he'd gone to bed in.
"UGH UGH UGH UGH". Spluttered Deputy Durland, still with that 'thing' in his mouth. Dipper wondered about that...
Taken aback by the distinctly unimpressed response to what he clearly though was a modern miracle, Bill's affable demeanor quickly became more and more strained "WELL 'SCUSE ME FOR NOT KNOWING WHAT'S HOT AND WHAT'S NOT AT THE MOMENT! I WAS TRAPPED IN ANOTHER DIMENSION FOR YEARS AND YEARS, SO OF COURSE I HAVE NO EXCUSE AT ALL FOR NOT PICKING UP ON THE LATEST TRENDS! YOU COULD AT LEAST GIVE ME SOME ENCOURAGEMENT YA KNOW... I AM TRYING!"
At this point, Bill had uncontrollably set himself on fire, and had grown in height to twenty foot, while his voice got louder and louder. And he was only getting bigger, and noisier too. Realising the danger they were in, the crowd screamed and tried to make a run for it... But of course, Bill had thought of that... And they were securely glued to their seats. It seemed for sure, they were all doomed...
Then, Stanley happened to glance at Dipper, who was gesticulating wildly from behind Bill, with his hands. The pre-teen was doing a clapping... And sucking motion. Clapping, and sucking. "What is my weird nephew up to?!" the more studious of the Pines elder twins said to himself. Then, it all clicked.
"Oh Bill, we are all SO sorry! We DO appreciate you, we LOVE your machine, and we are SO grateful you abducted our souls tonight so we could watch this WONDERFUL show!" That was Stanley, before he stood up and launched into furious applause. Seeing this, Bill stopped growing for a second... And the flames around him, which threatened to engulf everyone, flickered a little.
The rest of those about to be barbecued looked at Stanley... Then, at Bill... Then, at Stanley, before finally twigging what they had to do themselves. Together, as one unit, they launched into a standing ovation... and saying, in soothing tones, how much they valued the dream demon... How majestic he looked in his top hat... How adorable his little bow tie was... And even, how having one eye was THE fad of the future. "WHO NEEDS PERIPHERAL VISION, ANYWAY!" They hollered.
With each compliment, Bill shrunk just a little, and his heat got less and less intense... Until, just as it seemed that the people had run out of niceties (Even going as far as to say the name Bill reminded them of toucans... AND THEY LOVED TOUCANS!) he reverted back to his original size, and temperature. Forget about music soothing the savage beast, flattery was clearly FAR more effective.
"Thank you all for your kind words!" He grinned, scanning the exhausted onlookers." I KNEW you were all just joking before. But, let's have less of that... I'M the one around here that tells the wisecracks!" And saying that, he went on to explain to the ready-to-drop audience how his Clapometer worked (As if they didn't know).
"Basically, I read out the number of the booth, and you lovely people put your hands together if you liked 'em, and keep them by your sides if you didn't. My machine will calculate, based on the volume and number of people clapping, a score between 0 and 10, and will display that here (he pointed to the numbers carved into the device). So, we get to see who's doing the best so far with the public... But, remember, the final decision, is Dipper's... Because this is Pines Date... Where..."
The neon letters didn't even have to light up this time before the crowd yelled out in unison "WHERE LOVE IS THE NAME OF THE GAME ". On top of everything else, they didn't wanted to be fried where they sat.
"You see, I told you you'd get the hang of it!" Bill smirked, while Dipper just wanted it all to be over. "Now... get those hands ready... And GO!
BOOTH 1... A moderate splattering of applause... You mean, obsessively watching Star Trek ISN'T a laudable trait?!... 5/10
BOOTH 2... The arena is almost silent...If only she'd learnt Tyrannosaur... 2/10
BOOTH 3... Again, very quiet... Apart from a certain Great Uncle who wants his nephew to marry wealthy... 5/10 (two points from one person alone)
BOOTH 4... This is more like it... EVERYONE loves a jolly person... Or, they were just intrigued by the 'surprise'. Either way, the house is brought down... 8/10
BOOTH 5:... A pretty good reaction, all things considered. There must be a few Amazon chasers there today. 6/10
BOOTH 6... You could hear a cricket chirping. NO-ONE likes a creepy creeper. Sheesh. 0/10
"Oh, don't worry number six, I'm sure you'll do better next time... Just try to tone it down a little..." Bill said as the results were announced ("Don't worry, kid. I have the Dream Police on stand-by if it all goes pear shaped." The host told Dipper in secret). "And nnoowww... Question two... But first, a commercial break!"
"OH, NO!" Thought Dipper, ready to throttle himself with his own collar there and then... "IF THE MAIN PROGRAMME IS THIS CRAZY, THEN WHO KNOWS WHAT THE ADVERTS ARE GOING TO BE LIKE..."
"This is Bill's brand Toblerone..."