Ford decided that worrying about his multiple, seemingly insurmountable problems could wait.
He had finally found someone-a member of his family, no less-who enjoyed Dungeons, Dungeons & More Dungeons, and it was imperative for him to drop everything and play!
He was almost giddy with glee as he rushed to the second floor of the basement; he had left his DD&D dice and a few other items in one of the cupboards in case he and Fiddleford had time to campaign during breaks from the portal, and then forgotten about them first in the midst of his work and then after discovering Bill's treachery.
Hopefully the rules hadn't changed too much since the last time he played this; from what Dipper had told him it didn't sound that bad, except for what sounded like an absolutely horrendous version that had cropped up during the 90's (he didn't want to even begin to imagine what "Probabilidizzle" was supposed to be like), but perhaps they should compare their understanding of the rules beforehand just to make sure.
Oh-Ford wondered if Dipper would be interested in hearing about some of the campaigns he and Fiddleford had created back in the day-which led to the delighted thought that perhaps, as part of his plan to continue mending fences with his old friend, he should invite Fiddleford to come over and play with them.
…Then again, maybe he should play at least one game between just himself and Dipper first, both for courtesy's sake and so he could get an inkling of the boy's playing strategy, figure out what his strengths were-
Ford was so lost in thought that he didn't even realize he was back in the gift shop until he heard Stan's voice from the porch.
"Ladies and gentletourists, do not be alarmed! What you see lying in front of you is the remains of an epic battle that took place here in the ancient time of…yesterday evening!"
Oh. Right.
Ford had almost managed to forget about this.
He was about to leave and go find his nephew as quickly as possible, and hopefully find a quiet place to play where he wouldn't have to see this, when he heard a ripple of laughter from a moderately large group of people.
Apparently tourists will laugh at anything these days.
He peered through the window and saw Stan standing next to the robot, with one foot planted on it in a dramatic pose and leaning on his cane. And he was wearing the grin that had always meant he was about to spin a long, slightly ridiculous yarn for his audience.
"Many years ago, when I was a younger, even handsomer man than I am now, I was the apprentice of a mad scientist, whose biggest ambition was to one day RULE THE WORLD!"
He threw back his head and cackled gleefully, making several tourists (but definitely not Ford in any way, shape or form) jump.
"And as part of his evil plans, one day he decided ta create this monstrosity you see before you." He gave it a firm tap with his cane. "What the egghead didn't count on was that one day, it achieved sentience!"
And so on, and so forth.
Stanley did indeed spin an elaborate tale, about his younger self managing to befriend the robot and encouraging it to run away from its master, before running away himself to Gravity Falls; then, years later, the mad scientist Stan had been 'apprenticed to' apparently tracked him down yesterday seeking revenge, but in a moment of deus ex machina the robot came to the rescue, and fought its creator to the death in an epic showdown, the remains of which lay before them now.
…Ford had a nasty suspicion of who Stan had in mind for the role of the mad scientist, and what he was getting his inspiration from.
Regardless of his own emotions, though, the audience was clearly eating the story up, and when Stan finished, they immediately lined up and began throwing fistfuls of money at Stan just to have their pictures taken with the fallen colossus.
Heh; Ford had almost forgotten how good Stan was at entertaining people.
To his own consternation, he realized that the corners of his mouth had turned up as he watched Stan's antics, and listened to his (admittedly very entertaining and creative) story.
He shook his head in disgust-but when the group of people came into the museum part of the house, he quietly trailed after them.
Ford told himself that he wasn't entertained by Stan's clowning around.
He told himself that he wasn't enjoying the litany of puns (and that some of them were definitely not cleverer than his, thank you very much).
He told himself that it didn't warm his heart, just a little, to see how genuinely pleased Stan looked every time he made his audience laugh, or the way Soos was watching him work from behind the statue of the Sascrotch and beaming proudly, even as his mop sat forgotten in his hand and soaking his shoes.
He told himself…a lot of things.
Finally Stan lured everyone to the gift shop, where he proceeded to con even more money out of them by selling bumper stickers, bobble heads, and ridiculously overpriced T-shirts in a way that would have made Pa-that Pa would have been-
…Well, that would have made their mother proud.
"And remember, we put the fun in 'no refunds!'" Stan called gleefully after the tourists as they headed for their cars.
Ford couldn't help it; the faintest hint of a muffled snicker slipped out of his mouth.
Stan glanced over his shoulder, and startled when he saw him standing in the gift shop. A second later, his jaw clenched.
"You got something you wanna say about how I run my business, keep it to yourself. Cuz I don't wanna hear it."
Ford could actually see him bracing himself for another potential fight, or cutting remark; his stomach squirmed.
He wasn't sure what he'd been planning to say when he opened his mouth, but what came out was, "You're a natural salesman, Stanley. I'm impressed."
His brother's eyes widened, and for a second he seemed incapable of forming words, until finally he stammered, "...What?"
"You heard me." Almost of its own free will, Ford's hand raised and rubbed the back of his neck, before he cleared his throat gruffly and turned away. "...I'm going to go find Dipper."
Smooth, Stanford.
