Dipper sighed when he finally tilted his head to the right, resigning himself to the fact he wouldn't die from the cringe. Moments like that made it almost understandable why everyone in the Blind Eye Society depended on the memory gun. Laying his head at this new angle, Dipper stared at the dagger. Is that paper wrapped under the handle? Delicately, Dipper sat up and unwound the parchment. The paper was burned at the edges, but the device on it looked useless. And why did so many of these papers insist on staring at the sun?

Dipper attempted to wrap the paper back on the dagger, but the paper fluttered down repeatedly. Seriously, how was this so hard? When it fell down once again, Dipper snatched at it a little too carelessly near the blade and pulled his hand back with a yelp. His finger dripped with blood and he hissed in pain. He put his injured finger in his mouth to stifle the blood flow, and aimed a glare at the paper that quickly turned to alarm. A small amount of blood on the edge of the dagger and droplets on the paper were fine. What was infinitely less fine was the flecks of blood currently sinking into the book's cover.

The cover changed from an eerie red to a glistening gold. Dipper sat silently for a minute in terror listening to the sound of the rain, but nothing else happened. Careful to put his injured hand behind his back and far away from anything else dangerous it could bleed on, he reluctantly lifted the dagger off and opened the book with his remaining hand.

"Well well well, looks like you won one of my 1,000 free papercuts Pine Tree. Lucky you! Although if you can still read this then buddy, you haven't trained enough. Back to looking at the sun, kid! Chop Chop! Those messages aren't going to decode themselves! Go, Go! And afterward, try finding the government's secrets in the garbage disposal. Why else would they tell you not to stick your hand in there?"

Dipper shut the book again with a sigh of relief. The cover change was unnerving, but other than that it's clear he's still no all-knowing triangle anymore. Still thinks it's a sunny day, presumes Dipper cut himself on the book pages. Hearing Mabel's return improved his mood further.

"I didn't know what snacks to bring so I brought as many as I could carry! I got cheese boodles, chipackerz, cookie chips, corncornos, nyumalums–" Mabel cut herself off upon getting close enough to see Dipper properly in the limited light, dropping the snack bags, "–Omigosh Dipper your hand! What happened? Was it Bill?"

Dipper shook his head, "Snagged my finger on the dagger."

"And you told me to be careful! Do you need me to get a bandaid or…?"

"Nah it's a shallow cut. Looks worse than it is. It stopped bleeding anyway."

Mabel still looked a little worried, but it turned to confusion when she tried looking in the direction of the weapon itself.

"Uhh wasn't the book red earlier? And more impaled?"

"Look I may have gotten a teensy bit of blood on the book-"

"Dipper!"

"-But, it's fine. Same as before, beyond the color. See for yourself."

Mabel warily opened the book to a random page.

"Shooting Star! If you want a drink tastier than Mabel Juice with all that food, why not try mixing all the unlabeled bottles under the sink together? Share some with Stanley too, he could use the pick-me-up! For even more fun, try swallowing as many of those snacks at once without chewing, especially large solid ones!"

Mabel rolled her eyes and closed the book, but relaxed entirely, returning to pick up her brought treats as if nothing interrupted her. Once gathered in a solid pile, Dipper grabbed a bag of cookie chips with some pitt cola while Mabel opened the box of chipackerz. After downing a handful, Mabel pulled the keyboard nearer and typed "BILL CIPHER".

"Mabel, we already tried that, remember?," Dipper started to argue, but his words were cut short when instead of more wiki pages, it opened to a video this time. A super-old cartoon from a kid's show about a triangle and square. Dipper racked his brain while it played trying to decipher if there was any deeper meaning to it beyond the intended educational lesson. Mabel noticed him deep in thought and when it ended playfully commented,

"Only you could over-analyze a silly 3-minute cartoon DipDop."

"But don't you think it's strange we suddenly got this? Do you think my blood changed the search results? Did Bill inspire the person who made this?"

"Or Bill likes triangles because he's a triangle. It was pretty jazzy."

Unconvinced, Dipper typed in "SHAPES". A mock textbook page detailing Ancient Greece popped up written from Bill's POV. Alright, maybe Bill was just more awake and talkative since they touched the book, this did seem meaningless.

"TRIANGLE"

"TRI HARDER ;)"

Dipper leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his pitt cola. All their attempts so far resulted in mockery and weak threats. It wouldn't be unreasonable to not give Bill a second more of their time and just leave. But something about all this still felt off. Maybe it was the slight pulsing he could still feel from his finger. Maybe it was the charged atmosphere owing to the thunderstorm. Maybe it was the now-golden cover, reflecting the candlelight and green stars. Whatever it was, he could swear they were missing something huge. Try harder? Challenge accepted.