Monster Falls

9: Pick A Card

Stanford stood in his brother's room, consciously avoiding the mirror on his dresser. He'd tried to wake 'Ley up several times, but he was deep in sleep, and wasn't responding to his touch, so he left it alone. Ford crawled over to the door, heading to check on the kids, before he heard a rustling.

"Ford?"

The sphinx froze in the doorway, his wings tensing. "What is it, 'Ley--" he corrected himself. "Stanley?"

Stan sat up, squinting at the figure in his doorway. "Whoa." Ford grimaced, turning around to face his brother, all while anticipating his reaction.  The gargoyle's eyes widened. "What're you, some sort of lion-owl man?"

"Sphinx," Stanford explained, rolling his eyes. Stan had a confused look on his face. "Journal One, page two hundred eighty-eight."

Stan's eyes widened, nodding in understanding. The gargoyle looked at his brother once more. He chuckled. "Won't be needing any exhibits for the Shack now, will I?"

Ford sighed with relief. Had Stan gone any farther he'd make Stanford some sort of 'Genius Sphinx Man' thanks to Stanley's wonderful business tactics. "Because you're shutting down for the meantime, right?"

"Nope! Because we all look like expensive exhibits that I don't have to pay to make!" Ford groaned. He was right. Stan was planning to showcase them.

"You're shutting the Shack down, okay?" Stanford explained, not wanting to be seen by anyone like this. Even if Stan didn't use him as an exhibit, exploiting the kids like that was a stupid idea.

Stan looked at him, raising a brow. "The shack?" He teased, rolling his shoulders. Ugh. Being made of stone had numbed the pain of old age, but the stiffness it brought on, especially in the morning, was sometimes unbearable.

"I meant my house!" Ford grunted, instinctively bearing his teeth.

Stan rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in defence. "Alright, alright, Mr. Tough-Guy," He stood up. "Guess I should go check on the kids, right?"

Ford cleared his throat. "And I should go check on--" Stan was looking at him weirdly. "We may or may not have a guest."

"Who?" Stan asked, rolling his shoulders once again.

Stanford chuckled awkwardly. "Um, he--uh, he's a--" he caught sight of a photo of a magic wand on Stanley's dresser. "He's a magician! Uh, Will the magician!"

Stan looked at his twin brother, eyebrows raised in disbelief. For all he knew, this 'visitor' could be some sort of flesh-eating alien that Ford smuggled in from...somewhere. "Magician."

Ford nodded, smiling. "Yep, magician!" He stepped out the door quickly, already noting Stan's disbelief and wanting to escape any more questions. "Gotta go!"

"Hey, Stanford!"

Ford stepped in, looking up at the ex-demon. "Cipher."

Bill looked at him weirdly. "Why you so touchy?"

Ford looked at him, raising his eyebrows. "Ok, so now you are a magician with the name Will, got it?"

"Why?"

Stanford groaned. "I'm a really bad liar, okay?"

Bill chuckled. "Still? 30 years in that dimension and you're still a bad liar?"

Ford sighed. "Well, that involved more combat then... talking."

Stanley walked into the kitchen as he heard the landline phone ringing. It was seven o' clock in the morning on a Monday. Who in the hell would call that early? Picking up the phone, Stan placed it on his ear. "Hello?" He asked, waiting for the other end of the line to reply.