A Tale of Two Fords

Chapter 5

   Stanford Pines was on fire.
    And no, not 'on fire' meaning doing well on his date. He was literally on fire.
    "AUUUGHHH!"
    Connie had rushed off to find some help while her date waved his flaming arm around. They had gone out to dinner at this fairly nice place (the tables were candle lit and everything!). Connie noticed Stanford seemed to be a little out of things and her suspicions were confirmed when he reached over to hold her hand and (somehow) caught his coat in the fire of the candle, setting the arm ablaze.
Fwooosh!
A sigh of exasperation as foam covered Ford.
"Thank you..." He mumbled softly to the waiter who had put him out. The man simply handed him a towel with a curt nod and headed about the rest of his daily routine. Ford cleaned the white foam off of himself as Connie sat down in front of him, arms and legs crossed as she seemed to be waiting for something. Something he couldn't immediately figure out.
    It seemed their date had been cut short.
    "Now, Stanford Pines, do you intend to tell me how, exactly, you managed to set yourself on fire...?"
    Ford gripped the steering wheel as the couple climbed into the driver and passenger's seat of his (slightly) beat up car.
    "Uhm.... No...?"
    She gave him a stare. No, no, not just a stare. She gave him the stare. The 'you-better-open-up-your-big-mouth-before-you-fuck-shit-up-even-more-than-it-already-is' stare.
    Ford sighed softly. "I... I was distracted," he murmured. And it wasn't a lie.
    "By what..? A nearly empty diner?"
    "By Uh... Your sparkling personality..?"
    "Bull crap."
A flinch.
"It... It's complicated, dear..."
"Stanford Pines, you are my boyfriend," another flinch. "There is no social thing too complicated in that head of yours that I won't understand."
    Wanna bet?
"Connie, honestly, I was just spacing out," Ford insisted and began to drive back to campus.
"You never space out. Your mind sometimes heads out into space; but you never simply space out..." she crossed her arms. "What kind of relationship have we built where you can't tell me honestly why you set your arm on fire?"
"Uhm... A normal one..?"
A silence fell over the (soon-to-not-be-a-) couple. Connie sighed. Minutes of uncomfortable tension passed before Ford whispered out the one word his partner never wanted to hear since their first date's catastrophe:
"...Fiddleford..."
"Excuse me...?"
    "F-Fiddleford... That's why I was... Distracted... I... I'm worried about him..."
    "Why would you worry about that hillbilly?!"
    Ford gripped the steering wheel and glanced at her.
   "W-What..? He's my best friend I have to worry about him-"
    She scoffed and he flinched again.
    "Listen, Ford, sweetie," she began after a few moments. "I feel like it'd be better for everyone if you make... Well.. Better friends.."
    "Wha... What...?"
     "I mean... That hick is just getting in your way. Holding you back... And plus have you seen how he always stares at you? He does it... Almost all the time... Is he some kind of queer? Wouldn't surprise me if someone like him turned out to be a faggot-"
Screech!
    "Get... Out..."
    Connie blinked and looked at Ford, who hunched over a bit, as he pulled over suddenly gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were turning white.
"What? Ford what are you-"
"Get out of my car right now!" He hissed and turned to her, eyes filled with some sort of rage and face turning red in anger.
"What are you doing?!" She exclaimed, crossing her arms. "My dorm is two blocks down-"
"I don't care just get out! Do you honestly, honestly, think that I would stay with such a... Such a... A self centered heartless witch?!"
"Ford what has gotten into you?!"
"Realization!" Steam practically poured out of his ears as he growled.
"Is this about something I did? About what I said about that hillbill-"
"Don't you dare call him that!" He yelled. "Don't you even dare call Fiddleford McGucket anything but kind-hearted! That man is the best friend— no, no— he is an angel, and don't you dare even try to say otherwise!"
"Ford listen to yourself! You're defending a useless fag-"
"You shut your mouth!" His voice cracked. "Queer or not, he's my best friend and I will not stand for.. For people like you making him feel like he's worthless because he is worth more than you ever will be! I would gladly choose Fiddleford over you..."
She opened her mouth to retort but was cut off by Ford's angry hiss of, "Now get out of my freaking car before I get mad-!". Quickly she grabbed her back and scurried out. As soon as she was gone, Ford's grip on the wheel loosened and he panted a bit as he watched her run off.
With that, he began to speed back to his dorm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fiddleford was surprised, to say the least, when Stanford burst in two hours earlier than he had expected, interrupting the tired southern man's bored banjo playing and quiet singing.
"Oh... Why hello there, Stanford," he greeted, plastering a smile on his face. "How did your-"
A high-pitched squeak escaped his lips as Ford stomped over and pulled the thin man into a tight (almost none-crushing, had he tried a bit harder) hug.
"S-Stanford whaddya d-doin'...!"
"Listen to me, Fiddleford," Ford spoke quiet and quickly. "You are not worthless. You are a genius. A kind, angelic, genius and don't you dare let anyone tell you otherwise because they are freaking liars. No matter what. Do you hear me?"
Fiddleford, despite his inner screaming to not do so, shivered at the sound of Ford's hushed voice in his ear. He managed a shaky "O-Okay..." before his roommate pulled away and headed to the bathroom without another word. He yawned as Stanford shut the door.
That night, Fiddleford McGucket fell asleep with a smile on his face.