If Ford wanted to be honest, he still felt like half a stranger to young Jesús Ramirez.
It wasn't that he didn't want to learn more about his brother's ex-employee/heir presumptuous/adopted son (sort of). Of course he enjoyed the boy's company; Soos was sweet, polite and very creative, in his own unique way. It was just… well, Ford didn't exactly how to connect with the young man. Surely they had something in common, other than caring about Stan and the twins to a degree that could almost be detrimental to their wellbeing (or perhaps that was only Ford; Soos seemed better balanced on that front…)
So far, Ford had not found out what it was that he shared with this strange, but endearing young man. It didn't mean he wasn't willing to try, of course.
Ford's first opportunity came one night after dinner. Sitting all crooked in what was once Stan's recliner, Soos was scribbling down something in a notebook, completely absorbed in his task. Ford stood beside him, peeking over his shoulder. Soos startled a little, but soon enough he was looking up at Ford with one of his characteristic grins.
"Good evening, Dr. Pines! You, uh, gave me a bit of a scare, dude! How are you so sneaky? Was it something you learned while travelling the multiverse?" Soos gasped, eyes growing wide. "Did you ever visit a world full of master ninjas that taught you their ninjacraft?!"
Ford held up his hands. "No, no… though that would certainly have been interesting." Before Soos could go on another of his strange tangents, Ford added, "What are you writing?"
"Well, remember when you said you'd like to know more about our characters and their backstories? I'm writing it down, dude!"
"You are?" Ford smiled, glad for the young man's enthusiasm.
Soos beamed back at him, and he reached for something on the dinosaur skull beside the recliner. It was a stack of papers—a rather thick stack of papers. "Here! It's just the beginning, mind you! You could call it an outline, even!"
Ford took the pile. This 'outline' had to be a good one hundred pages… "Ah, well. Thank you…"
Soos' candid grin shone like a hundred-watt lightbulb. "Hope you enjoy it, dude!"
Ford forced himself to smile back. "O-Of course…"
"Cool! Thanks again, Dr. Pines! Have a nice night!"
"Yes, well, g-good night, Jesús."
Rather than dig himself deeper, Ford turned on his heel in a stiff motion, heading for the kitchen. Stan, of course, was helping himself to (yet) another piece of the cake Mabel had made with the help of her friends (which explained why the thing was 64% pink frosting, 22% glitter and only 14% cake).
"You really should watch your sugar intake," Ford commented.
"Make me," Stan said, stuffing his mouth with another bite. Had he made sure to cut himself a piece that was more frosting than cake? It sure looked that way to Ford.
Ford sighed, putting the stack of paper on the table so he could make himself a cup of coffee. Stan lifted both eyebrows.
"Gee, Fordsie," he said, "shouldn't you, like, watch your caffeine intake? And it's right before we go to bed too."
"Har har har," Ford said, rolling his eyes.
"What's this?"
"What?" Ford turned, seeing that Stan had grabbed the stack of papers. "Oh, something that Soos wrote. His character's backstory, to be precise."
"Huh," Stan commented. "So he still likes to write, then."
"Is that something he's done often?" Ford asked.
"When he was in middle school, kid wrote all the damn time. Used to talk my ears off about his stories. Then, he jus' stopped. Took me a while to figure out why."
"Why did he stop?" Ford said, frowning.
"Had to snoop around a bit, but apparently some kid at school stole his notebook and tore it to shreds. Soos found the pieces in his desk before class."
"Oh, no…"
"I found the kid responsible," Stan continued, in a darker tone. "I, uh, managed to convince him to leave Soos alone."
Ford raised an eyebrow. "'Convince?'"
Stan waved a hand around. "Convince, threaten to bust his kneecaps, to-may-to, to-mah-to."
Ford smirked. The Stanley Pines special was still in effect, evidently enough. At least some justice still existed in this lowly world.
The next morning, Soos sauntered over to Ford the moment the latter entered the kitchen.
"So, how was it, dude?" Soos asked.
He looked a great deal too cheerful for Ford's liking, who was still clad in his flannel pajamas, and who had yet to drink his first cup of coffee. He looked blearily at the young man. "What?"
"My story. Did you enjoy it?"
"Your…" Ford gaped stupidly at him. "What?"
Thankfully, Stan seemed less in a catatonic state than Ford. "Give 'im some time, gumdrop. You want him to power through the thing or you'd rather that he take his time to read it all careful an' stuff?"
Soos seemed to think about it. "Yeah! You're right, Mr. Pines!" He turned to Ford with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, Dr. Pines, dude! Take your time, there's no hurry!"
The next day, Ford found himself confronted by Soos' bright smile once more. "So?" the young man asked, ever so cheerful. "How d'you like it?"
Poor Ford hadn't even been able to take one sip of coffee. The cup now seemed as out of reach as the moon. "Your story, you mean? It's… well…" In truth, Ford had read only half a page before conking out the previous night. He couldn't remember a time where he'd fallen asleep so quickly.
"Yeah?" Soos said, eyes shining. "How is it, how is it?"
"Gee, kiddo." Stan interrupted Soos by putting a hand over his shoulder. "What d'you think he is, a reading machine?"
Soos scratched at his chin. "Yannow, I kinda did! Since he's super smart and all!"
"Smart?" Stan snorted. "This guy? Just last week, he got into a shouting match at the grocery store with a ten-year-old over Pluto not being a planet!"
"Since when is Pluto not a planet?! What is this dwarf planet nonsense—"
"See, see?" Stan laughed as he slapped Ford on the back. "Again, cut him some slack, will ya? He's old, y'know. Positively decrepit, even."
"Stanley, I'm fifteen minutes older than you."
"And yet that's enough to make all the difference in the world!"
The two of them bickered through the entire morning, and that was enough to deter Soos… for the time being.
Because the next day—and the day after that, and the one that followed—Soos asked again and again and again if Ford had read his story, with the wavering voice and wobbling lip of a child asking if he was doing well on his assignment. And again and again and again Ford answered, "I'm sorry, but I'll finish it soon, I swear."
Stan kept sending him dirty looks, and… well, Ford couldn't exactly fault him, could he? Ford tried, really tried to get past that first paragraph without falling asleep. That first paragraph that took most of the first page, the one that began with a detailed account of the protagonist's ancestry, starting with his ten-time great-grandmother, who was both a great prophesied hero and the founder of a famously popular chain of restaurants. Then came the descriptions of the fabulous deeds of her daughter and grandsons and great-grandchildren and—
Well, Ford hadn't read the rest. He'd fallen asleep every time, without fault, by the time he'd gotten to the fifth generation, consisting of a plucky pair of siblings who had stopped a mad god's rampage and revolutionized the world by inventing Velcro shoes.
But that wasn't the crux of Ford's predicament, oh no. Because Ford, in his great wisdom, had just plain declared, one morning, "Oh, it was an amazing read! I'll be sure to integrate as many elements as I can in my campaign, don't you worry, my boy!"
Stan had stared at him as if Ford had grown a second head. Ford had ignored his brother's undignified scowl, plastering the biggest smile he could muster on his own face. It was almost painful, in fact. By Tesla, he needed a cup of coffee.
"Really?!" Soos said. "Dude, dude, so what d'you like best?!"
"I…" Ford glanced toward Stan, who was slurping his orange juice rather noisily, his eye twitching. "I like… the characters? They're good. The characters, I mean. They have good… characterization."
Stan's expression had gone from anger to sheer disbelief in the span of about a second. Soos' smile was so bright it could probably rival the surface of the sun.
"Wow, thanks, Dr. Pines! It means a lot coming from you!"
"Sure…" Ford returned his smile, gingerly. "Um, see you at the game tonight?"
"Yeah! I'm, like, totally riding the hype train, dude! See ya!"
After Soos was gone, Ford turned to Stan with a confused expression. "The what now? What is that supposed to—"
Stan responded by slapping him behind the head. "What were you thinking, genius? You haven't finished reading shit!"
"I will read it… eventually…" Ford mumbled. "What was I supposed to tell him?"
"The truth, numbnut!" Stan threw his hands in the air, turning away from Ford. "I just can't with this idiot, I just can't!"
Stan was still grumbling when they gathered for their weekly session after dinner. Thankfully, he remained silent on the matter, opting to glare at Ford at every opportunity instead. Ford was too tired to call him out on his childish behaviour.
"Your group gathers at the local inn," he narrated to his players. "The place is not as cheerful as usual, and you hear nothing but worried murmurs as you take place at a table."
"I ask the innkeeper what's going—I mean." Dipper coughed, deepening his voice. "My good man, what is troubling all of your patrons?"
"'Oh,' says the innkeeper. 'The villages north of here had been beset by a terrible beast! The monster set a few fields to the torch, and destroyed the local tavern! Naught left but cinders!'"
"Fire?" Dipper chewed on his pen a little. "Could be a dragon."
"Could be trouble, you mean," Stan said, cleaning his teeth with the tip of his pinky finger. "Unless those guys cough up some serious dough, I don't think—"
"Of course we'll slay the dragon for you dudes!" Soos declared. He seemed completely ignorant of the peeved glance Stan was sending his way. "And we'll do it awesomely!"
"'Oh, but we are but poor villagers!' the innkeeper continues." Ford made sure to sound as melodramatic as possible. "'We would never have enough gold to hire a group of adventurers as famous, as powerful as you!'"
"Don't worry, dude, we'll do it free of charge! We're allies of justice! Besides, a good deed should be its own reward, right?"
Soos' smile remained firmly plastered over his face as the evening went by. He was glad to lend a helpful ear to the poor, bereaved villagers (who remained suspicious of him thanks to a rather poor charisma roll). He continued to smile even as he caused the party to lose the beast's trail (because he'd rolled a disastrous survival check). And, of course, he remained positive even as the dragon knocked out his character in one turn (consequence of another fumbled dice roll).
By then, Soos's expression seemed a tad forced; his lips were pressed together so tightly together that Ford was almost worried the boy had forgotten to breathe. The second turn of the battle came to pass. Without Soos's handy healing spells, the party was faring rather badly against their scaly opponent. Save for Soos, no one else was smiling.
"Soos," Ford said, "would you roll your first death save, please?"
Everyone at the table turned to Soos with a worried expression. The young man swallowed nervously, then threw his dice. His smile twitched a little at the result, but otherwise it stuck firmly into place.
"Failed it," he said, with a little laugh. "But it's fine, right? It's fine. It's fine."
"Sheesh, son," Stan said. "Remind me to never take you to Vegas."
Soos, to his credit, only shrugged. "Oh, I wouldn't anyway. Abuelita says it's a den of villainy. Only ruffians spend money on gambling, that's what she says."
"And you're no ruffian, sir," Mabel said, patting his arm. "You're the best, goodest boy there is, yes, you are."
As Soos and Mabel began to exchange a series of (rather superlative) compliments, Ford turned to Stan, muttering, "How has this child stayed so pure, so innocent, even after all these years in your company?"
Stan shook his head. "Beats me. It's something of a superpower if you ask me."
Superpower or not, Soos's eternal optimism was pointless in the face of the dragon's relentless assaults. Indeed, the battle raged on; Fidds's artificer was the next to fall prey to the beast's claws, though Mabel's character was quick to come to his aid. The dragon's armour-like scales proved too tough for Wendy's axe, and Ford could see the normally aloof teenager starting to lose her cool. Stan was behaving rather strangely, trying to bring the monster's attention to him, even openly taunting him. Ford eventually realized he was distracting the dragon so Dipper's character could get to Soos, still lying unconscious directly under the beast's belly.
Then came the third round… and Soos's final chance to save his character from an untimely demise. Around the table, everyone was holding their breaths. Ford had never seen his players act so seriously; one would think Soos's life really was on the line.
"C'mon, Soos!" said Mabel. "If you fail this save, then you'll be dead!"
Soos managed a wavering smile. "I know, dudette. It'll be okay, I've had a good run, right guys?" His shoulders slumped a little. "I'm just bummed out that I never got to act out the backstory I came up with… I even wrote it and all…" He turned to Ford, giving him the most pitiful of puppy eyes.
Ford winced as if he'd been punched instead. He could also feel the heat of Stan's glare. "So?" he said, after clearing his throat. "Will you roll that next death save, please?"
Soos grimaced, then looked at the array of dice in his tray. His lower lip wobbled.
"Hey, gumdrop," Stan said. "How about you use one of my dice, huh? Yours must be cursed or something."
Ford felt one of his eyes twitching. His twin's dice were, in Stan's own words, imbued with 'the supreme luck of the gods or some crap'. That was how he explained his surprising number of perfect rolls, anyway. Ford wasn't buying it for a second.
Soos shrugged. "I don't see how that would change anything, but why not, coconut?"
Stan gave him his golden 20-sided dice. Soos shook it in his hands, looking as pale as a man facing a firing squad. Then, he threw it in front of him.
Everyone stood from their chairs abruptly, leaning over the table to have a better look at his dice tray.
"Oh," Soos said simply.
It was a one.
At first, there was only silence. Then, it all devolved to chaos. Mabel flopped back into her seat, striking a dramatic pose worthy of a lady from a Victorian novel. Stan was gesticulating at Ford and calling him—well, something he should not be saying in front of the children. Wendy was equally animated as she jabbed a finger at Ford, explaining in minute details just how much he sucked. Ford was impressed, frankly; it was the longest thing he had ever heard from her.
In the face of their anger, Ford remained the perfect picture of reasonable calm. That only seemed to make them more enraged. Now, even Dipper had gotten out of his seat to point indignantly at Ford.
"Wendy's right, it was too hard!" the boy told Ford. "That dragon swept the floor with us! It took him just three rounds to nearly kill all of us, how were we supposed to win against that thing?"
"Not to mention, we never actually managed to land a hit," Wendy added. "Like, what the hell, dude."
Dipper continued to gesture madly. "A-And we'd all wasted our spell slots before the fight because we got lost in the mountain and had to fight all those stupid goblins. I mean, Soos and Wendy weren't even at full health! You should have lowered the difficulty of the encounter!"
"The encounter was supposed to be difficult," Ford told Dipper. "Not everything can be a walk in the park. Sometimes, you need a challenge. Soos was simply… unlucky."
"Whatever!" Wendy said. "Keep telling yourself that, you limp di—"
"Dishrag!" Stan said, wincing and looking at Dipper and Mabel.
"Come on, Grunkle Ford!" Mabel cried. "That was not nice! And besides, you broke Soos, look, look!"
The boy was indeed sitting very still in his chair, eyes still fixed on his dice tray. His expression was… blank. There was no better word to describe it. Something suspiciously liked remorse tugged at Ford's heartstrings.
"Everyone, everyone!" Fidds said, making a soothing motion with his hands. "How 'bout we call it a night, huh? When passions flare up like that, that there is a recipe fer disaster, Ah always say!"
"Thank you," Ford said. "I'm not sure when you became the voice of reason, Fiddleford, but I'm glad you did."
Fidds's smile grew a little sour. "Ah've always been the voice of reason, ya dolt. Ye're just less stubborn than you were thirty years ago."
"Ugh…" Ford rubbed at his face with both hands. Was that a headache rearing its ugly head? Perhaps he needed another cup of coffee… "Anyway, that sounds like a wise course of action. Next week, everyone will be calmer, thus more apt to act in a rational manner. We'll figure out what to do, then."
"Yeah, right." Stan scoffed. "Whatever makes you sleep better at night, pal."
One by one, Ford's players left the table—some sending him dirty looks as they went, others simply remaining uncharacteristically silent. Soos was the last to get out of his seat. Before he could go, however, Ford held up his hand.
"Wait!" he said. "Soos, I would like to speak to you."
Soos blinked, as if it took him some time to understand what Ford had just said. "Uh. Okay, Dr. Pines." He sat down again, brow creased in confusion.
Ford sighed as he took place next to him. "So…" he began. "Are you… alright?"
Soos stared at him for a few more moments. Then, he burst into laughter. "Dude, dude. It's just a game, I'm not dead for real! Of course I'm fine!"
"Oh, thank goodness," Ford said in relief. "I know how hard you worked on your character, I thought you'd be, well, saddened by his demise…"
"Well, it's like in a video game, y'know? You're mad for a little while, then you load your last save and, bam! You're back and better than ever!"
Ford grimaced. That was going to be harder than he thought it would be. "Actually, no. Your character is dead."
Soos's smile twitched a little. "…come again?"
"Your character. He's gone. You can't play him again."
Again, Soos simply looked at Ford. Then, his eyes filled with tears. "He's dead?! For real?!"
Oh no, Ford thought. It was exactly as he had feared. He could almost imagine the murderous glare Stan would give him for daring to make the boy cry. "I'm sorry, Soos," Ford said, "but it's the rules."
"Aw, man…" Soos wiped at his eyes. "And after I put all of this work to make his backstory as awesome as possible… I was looking forward to see how you'd put in things like, his secret twin who was kidnapped at birth by that evil cult, or that prophecy about how he'd save the world from—"
"Wait, Soos!" Ford said, holding up his hands. "I didn't read it! I didn't read your story. I'm sorry, Soos, but it's true."
Soos stopped babbling. "What…?" he said, eventually. "But… why did you say that you read it, then…?"
Ford got out of his chair, removing his glasses to pinch his nose. "Because I didn't want to disappoint you! Obviously, it meant a lot to you and—"
"You didn't want to disappoint me?" Ford would have told Soos the moon was made out of cheese, and the boy wouldn't have sounded as surprised. "Dude, I'm the one who disappoint people, not the guy who's… like, disappointed by people!"
Again, Ford felt a twinge of shame. He'd heard enough from Stan to know that Soos had all the reasons in the world to be disappointed by other people—especially by older parental figures unworthy of his trust and affection.
"No, Soos," Ford said, putting a hand over his shoulder, "what I did was childish and disrespectful. I should I have told you from the start that I hadn't finished reading it yet. I'm sorry."
Soos's eyebrows had gone so far up his forehead Ford almost wondered if they were about to come off his face. After a while, he managed to regain enough composure to sputter, "Oh, no, no, Dr. Pines, dude, don't apologize! It's fine, it is!"
"I think Stanley had the truth of it," Ford continued. "I'm not as young as I used to be. I get more fatigued easily. It's why…" He cleared his throat, attempting a smile. "Would you tell it to me? Your story, I mean."
Soos gaped at him for a moment, before closing his mouth with an audible 'pop!'
And then he was off.
For the next hour and a half, Ford was treated to the quirky, but heartfelt tale of Chucho, dwarf paladin and eventual saviour of the world. Soos showed a precise, almost analytical understanding of his world and characters. Ford was stunned, to tell the truth; the young man's story had a wonderfully absurdist quality to it and enough heart to fill the whole of the Mystery Shack. He'd never seen Soos acting in such an animated manner. Ford suddenly had the image of a younger Soos following Stan around and babbling about his newest story. No wonder Stan had looked so fond when he'd shared that tidbit with Ford.
By the end of Soos's story, Ford's latest coffee had gone cold. The young man inhaled deeply, as if he had just run a marathon, before looking at Ford with his best puppy dog impression.
"So?" Soos said. "How d'you like it?"
"It was quite creative," Ford replied. "I think you're a natural storyteller." He chuckled, before adding, "I think you could take over as Game Master rather easily, if the prospect ever tickles your fancy."
"Oh, no, I couldn't! I don't have the focus you have, Dr. Pines! I'll stick to coming up with stories, and, uh, keeping them for myself, I guess…"
"Why keep them for yourself?" Ford asked, honestly puzzled. "There are many ways to share stories with others. You could write a book, for one."
Soos scratched at his head in a sheepish manner. "Yeah, but, uh… I'm really bad at like, grammar and stuff. That text I gave you, well, I had to ask Melody's help on that count, y'know?"
"She enjoys writing as well?" Ford had not taken the time to learn to know Soos's girlfriend better, but she seemed to be quite the lovely young lady.
"Oh, dude, you have no idea," Soos said. "She writes so well! She, uh, says she does find it difficult coming up with plot points since all she writes about are like, superheroes going for coffee and cute guys kissing, but—" Soos put both hands over his mouth. "Oh, no! I wasn't supposed to tell you that she writes about cute guys kissing, it makes her embarrass—" Again, he gave a dramatic gasp. "Oh, no! I did it again!"
Ford raised an eyebrow, wondering what the boy expected him to do with that information. It was not like he was of a mind to blackmail the poor girl. And besides, what was so embarrassing about writing love stories?
"Hmm," Ford said, eventually. "It seems to me you feel self-conscious about the quality of your writing, while she frets about coming up with ideas. Why don't you work together, as a team? That's what we did, Stanley and I, back in our childhood."
Soos gaped at Ford. "Dude. Dude. You like, just blew my mind, dude. They don't call you a genius for nothing, Dr. Pines!"
Ford chuckled. "I think Stanley would argue with you on that point. Quite vehemently, in fact." He looked more closely at the young man sitting across from him. This boy was the closest thing Stan would ever have to a son. Thus, by extension, that made him Ford's nephew. "Please, just call me Ford. No need for this Dr. Pines nonsense. Stan doesn't mind you calling him by his name, too."
"Okay, dude, Doct—Ford." Soos seemed a bit unconvinced. "Um, you sure you don't mind…?"
"Of course not," Ford said. "We're family, aren't we?"
Soos's smile was so bright it could have powered the whole of Oregon.
The next week, Ford began the session with a long narrated segment. He recounted how Soos's character started to feel the life leaving his body as the battle raged on around him. He described the despair felt by the party, over their fallen comrade, yes, but also at the looming realization that they were soon about to follow him to the grave. Then, Ford began to describe Soos's last thoughts.
"Soon," he said, "it seems as if the pain is fading away. What is that warmth diffusing through your body, you wonder? You've felt that comfort before, in those times you've called your patron god for help. Yes, something, someone is here beside you, giving you some of their strength. It's not much… but it's enough. You manage to open your eyes for one final time."
Around the table, everyone was deathly silent. If the moment hadn't been so solemn, Ford would have laughed out loud at their serious expressions. That earnestness was especially out of place on Stan's usually indifferent face.
"Magic flows to the tip of your fingers," Ford continued, "as you raise your hand for your last spell." He smiled at Soos. "Would you take it from here, my boy?"
Soos inhaled sharply, rubbing his hands together as if to psyche himself up. Ford nearly laughed at his serious, determined expression.
"With, like, all of the strength left in me," Soos said, "I call out to you dudes, telling you to run like heck. Then I cast Banishment on the dragon!"
Ford didn't even roll the dragon's saving throw. "With a faint popping noise, the beast is suddenly… gone. At the same moment, Soos' hand falls to the ground, and his eyes close… never to open again."
"No!" Mabel cried. "I run toward him. I can still save him, I know I can!"
"Me too!" Stan said, a bit precipitately. "I rush toward him and take him in my arms."
Soos looked at them in surprise. "But I told you to run away…"
"He's right, you guys!" Dipper said. "The Banishment spell only lasts one minute, we need to book it before that dragon reappears!"
"Alright, then," Stan said, "I carry 'im in my arms as we run the he—heck away from this stupid place."
Ford fought a smile. Stan hadn't even given the dragon's hoard a second glance… "You manage to escape the dragon's lair—and just in time, it soon turns out. In the distance, you hear the beast roaring. It's utterly furious to have lost its prey."
Dipper made a face. "Yeah, no. Nope, nope, nope. We keep on running."
Only when they were well away from the beast did the party stop to take their breaths. Stan gently lay down the body of Soos' character on the ground. Mabel's bard instantly tried to heal him, only to find that her spells had no effect. Ford's niece looked at him with an expression of horror and dismay.
"His soul is gone," Ford explained, "to unknown, uncharted territories. But do not be grieved! His last act on this plane of existence was to save his friends from a similar fate. And, correct me if I'm wrong on this, Soos, but you could not ask for a better end, couldn't you?"
Soos managed a nod. His eyes were full of tears, but he was smiling. Mabel sniffed loudly. Even Fidds was dabbling at his eyes.
"What the heck?" Stan exclaimed. He pointed an accusing finger at Ford. "You were s'pposed to fix things, you ana—pedantic jerk!"
"It's okay, Mister—Stan," Soos said, putting a hand over his arm. "Everything's cool."
Stan frowned. "Ya sure 'bout that, gumdrop?" He kept sending dirty looks toward Ford.
"Yep!" With another smile, Soos held up a piece of paper. "'Cause Ford and me, we came up with a new character… and she's even cooler than my first!"
"Ooh!" Mabel said, all sadness fleeing from her face. Soon enough, everyone (save for Stan) was talking excitedly, asking Soos questions about the newest addition to the party. Ford hid a smile at their enthusiasm; Soos had been similarly passionate last week when they had discussed of the matter, talking until the small hours of the morning.
Not long after, a young woman entered the living room. Soos' face brightened at the sight of his ladylove. Soos motioned Melody over, and soon he was gushing over the new character he'd made, to her evident amusement.
"Her name's Harmonia, and she's a dwarf paladin!" Soos said. "She was married to Chucho, my other guy, but, uh, he kinda died, so now she's on an epic quest to, uh…"
"Avenge him?" Melody completed.
"Nah, she wants to bring him back to life! Like, drag him out of the underworld or something."
"Aww," said Mabel. "That's so romantic! And maybe she could punch the god of death on the way for being a jerk and taking her hubby away!"
"Yeah!" Soos said, clearly enthused by the idea. "That way, it'd be both romantic and rad as heck!"
"What does she look like?" Melody asked.
"Oh, oh, I bet she's cute!" Mabel said.
"Super cute!" Soos confirmed. "She's got long, wavy light brown hair, and the prettiest smile around. Like, with cute dimples and stuff!"
Dipper raised an eyebrow in disbelief, while Wendy snorted. Ford exchanged a look with Stan, then they both stared at Melody. Her expression grew in fondness as Soos continued to describe his new character in rather glowing details.
Ford leaned toward Stan, saying in a conspiratorial tone, "How have you managed to raise a boy this charming? You're the opposite of charismatic with the ladies—oof!"
Stan had just whacked him behind the head with his rolled-up character sheet.
