The Triangle's Deception...

Chapter 5: Always Read the Fine Print

"Great! HAHAHA! This is gonna be great!"

The triangle, Bill, laughed, in an inhuman way. Unease flooded the researcher, overwhelmed by the excitement and adrenaline. Finally. He wouldn't be ignored. Underestimated. He would get the praise he deserved. All his life, living on a farm, thinking he would never be significant. And now, here he stood, about to change the whole, damn, world.

"Oh boy, you won't regret this. Oh, and one more teeny, tinnnnnyyyy, favor." Bill's voice snapped Fiddleford out of his euphoric daze.

"And what's that?" he asked cautiously, peering into the triangle's eye suspiciously. "Of course there was a catch. and I didn't even bother to ask."

"Don't tell your little friend about our deal." he mused, floating closer to McGucket. Although he was only half his size, the triangle had an imposing aura. "See, if you tell Stanford about this, he'll go straight into researching, building the portal, and stealing what was meant to be yours. And I know...you don't want that. Don't you?"

Bill had a point. Although, Fiddleford had discovered many new things in Gravity Falls with Ford, he always let him take the credit. It felt like Stanford needed it more than he did, although now, it seemed the opposite was true.

"I reckon you're right..."

"This is your moment of glory. And you deserve it...all. To. Yourself. But if you tell him, he'll just steal it! Hell, he won't care about all the effort you put. "

"Admirable though..." Bill mutters, too quietly for Fiddleford to hear.

"Anywho, you know what ya gotta do, right?"

"I-"

"Good, good. Don't sweat it kid. I'll tell you the details about the portal later. And remember... reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, BYE!"

Bill disappeared with a flash, yanking Fiddleford out of his dream and back into the real world. He sat up instantly, struggling to control his breath, coming out in little pants. The morning light sifted into the room between the curtains, illuminating the room with its golden glow.

What just happened?

His breathing returned to normal, and he grabbed his glasses off the bedside table, along with his pocket notebook and a pen.

"Dream creature? Triangle, one eye, top hat, bow tie. Suspiciously charismatic. Resembles the illuminati. Wants me to build an interdimensional portal... how..." he mumbles, scribbling down the events of last night.

If he was going to be doing this...he had to figure out what he was dealing with. A visit to the library would do him good. Since, well, he couldn't tell Stanford. He usually would. Not this time though.

He was on his own.