Stan let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when the door of the Shack opened and Ford came striding in, carrying a familiar hairspray-sticky lardball (wearing orange instead of the usual blue) tucked under his arm like a suitcase.
…It wasn't like he was worried or anything, he just wanted to get this dumb ritual thing over and done with as soon as possible.
"Is everyone here?" Ford asked, setting Gideon down on the floor. Stan braced himself in case the little runt tried anything…but to his surprise after a moment of teetering stiffly he toppled onto his side, looking more like a statue of himself than a living breathing nine-year-old. The only thing that showed he was still among the living were his piggy eyes, wide and darting around with a mixture of fear and helpless fury.
"I used a neuroparalyzer to incapacitate him for the time being," Ford said, following his gaze. "It seemed like the most effective way to avoid any undue complications in completing the ritual."
…After a thoughtful moment of processing this, Stan gave the prone form a small nudge of his shoe, which sent him rolling across the carpet until he came to a stop, right at the foot of the yellow armchair. Then he crossed the room and sat down to enjoy his new footstool, ignoring the noise that sounded suspiciously like squeals of rage trying to push their way through frozen-shut lips.
Hey, he wasn't gonna pass up a golden opportunity when he saw it.
"Mabel showed up with the emu a little while ago," he said, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back.
Ford, who had been giving him a look somewhere between disapproval and slight amusement, blinked in confusion. "...The what?"
"Wendy's ex. I heard her call him that once, think it's teenage slang for being all dark and broody." It didn't make a lot of sense to Stan (read: none whatsoever), but he found most of the lingo used by teenagers nowadays confusing, so it wasn't exactly new.
Ford ran a hand through his hair, making it fluff up even more at the top. "...I suppose their feathers are somewhat dark…and perhaps the way their bodies are designed might make them appear to be brooding…but there are so many other types of birds that would fit that description better."
Stan shrugged. "Far as I'm concerned, nothing young people say makes sense anymore."
He was disgusted by the amount of warmth that pooled in his gut at Ford's responding chuckle, but he couldn't help it; even if things were still awkward between them, he'd waited so long to hear that laugh again, and spent so many sleepless nights fearing that he'd blown all possibility of hearing it out of the water for good-
Jeepers cripes, Stanley, you sound like a teenage girl excited that the cute guy finally asked her to the prom. Get a grip.
He cleared his throat. "Me and Wendy got McGucket and one of Mabel's friends here as candidates for the glasses symbol. I think they're all in the kitchen."
"You think?!" Ford's calm deserted him in the blink of an eye. "We really shouldn't leave anyone who's part of the Zodiac unsupervised right now! In fact, why are you here instead of with them?!"
A second later he had grabbed Stan's shoulder and was hauling him towards the kitchen, barely remembering to roll Gideon along with his boot (accompanied by more muffled indignant cries).
To Ford's relief, the kitchen was crowded with people who were part of the Zodiac-and who, aside from him, Stanley and Fiddleford, all seemed to be in various stages of adolescence.
And for some reason, the group was standing around the kitchen table, where Fiddleford was sitting across from a petite Asian girl, both wearing expressions of intense concentration. Mabel was standing on a chair in between them, holding a magazine and frowning thoughtfully.
After a moment she looked up. "Okay, next question: what is the only species of bird that can fly backwards?"
Fiddleford tilted his head and scratched under his hat. "...Ah think Ah saw a goose do that once? 'Course, it mighta been just a flying machine o' mine that went haywire, it's all kinda scramblified still…"
The girl waved her hand. "Oh, I know this one! Hummingbird! They also possess no sense of smell, but have excellent color vision!"
"Yay, point to Candy!" Mabel high-fived the girl, who was apparently her friend, and made a little mark on a notepad lying on the table.
"What is going on?" Ford interrupted.
Mabel looked up with a bright grin.
"Oh hi, Grunkle Ford! We were having trouble deciding whether Mr. McGucket or Candy was a better fit for the glasses symbol, so we're having a trivia quiz to figure out which of them is smarter!"
"Ten bucks on the old man," a very sallow, spotty-faced youth wearing a black hoodie with the heart symbol on it whispered to Wendy; Ford had to do a double-take to assure himself that he wasn't a zombie, and realized that this must be the emu Stan had mentioned.
"You're on," Wendy whispered back.
Despite his nerves still buzzing with anxiety, especially as he did a quick headcount and realized that there were only seven members of the Zodiac present (where the devil were Dipper and Soos and whoever the llama symbolized?!), Ford felt an amused smile stealing onto his face at his niece's unique approach to the problem.
"Unfortunately, Mabel, my research indicates that the symbol is based on the concept of wisdom, which is very different from just possessing knowledge."
Remarkably, he didn't feel the whoosh of the irony in his being the one to say that going completely over his head.
"...Oh."
The disappointment of Mabel's expression made an uncomfortable feeling rise in Ford's gut.
"I-I didn't-it was a very creative solution," he tried to backtrack. "It just wasn't-oof!"
"You had a good idea, pumpkin," Stan cut in, removing his elbow from Ford's side, "but maybe we oughta just form the circle, and try it with both of them ta see which one works."
"Yes. Of course." Ford patted his pockets. "We need to move to a spot with more space for everyone to be in a circle…and does anyone have a pen? A marker? Anything?"
"Ya mean like that pen in your coat pocket?"
Ford looked down at his pocket. "...Oh."
"Dude, if you're gonna try drawing the Zodiac that big, you're gonna need a bigger drawing thingy." Wendy reached into the emu's pocket and yanked out a can of spray paint.
"Hey! I was saving that!"
"Saving the world's more important, Robbie!" She tossed the spray paint to Ford, who caught it with a nod of approval.
Next to him, Stan sighed and began rolling Gideon towards the door. "There's room in the museum. C'mon, everyone, let's go get set up."
As the little party left the kitchen, Ford glanced out the window at the dirt road.
Still no sign of the golf cart, or Dipper, or Soos.
…I have a very bad feeling about this.
Bill is probably watching, and if he's figured out what we're up to-
If they're not here by the time the circle is finished, I'm going out to look for them myself.
I know that Dipper is a very capable young man, and Soos…has Dipper with him, but…I wish I hadn't had to get any of them mixed up in this.
I'm having trouble deciding whether Stan genuinely misheard the word emo, or if he's doing it on purpose as a long-term con on Ford. Knowing him, it could go either way...
