The Memory Gun

Passwords and Pure Evil

The computer lit up at the press of a button. Ford was scrawling away in his journal across from Fiddleford, only stopping to occasionally take a large sip of coffee from his '#1 Scientist' mug. He got it as a present from Fiddleford. He always seemed somewhat sad on his birthday, and didn't like to think about it. Fidds often tried his best to cheer him up to no avail, and the green mug was one of his feeble attempts to make him happy. At least it got some use.

Ford kept writing, not bothering to glance up. Even so, Fidds was nervous typing in the password around him. After double checking to see if his colleague was looking, he tapped in the word 'Stanford' with a soft smile and a slight blush. The laptop whirred quietly and in a few seconds the blueprint for a magnificent machine was revealed on the screen. It was the crown jewel of the pair's research, according to Stanford- but Fiddleford wasn't so enthusiastic about the project. Especially not with Ford's new...business partner.

Speak of the devil. Stanford sat up straight in his chair with a yelp and his eyes rolled back into his skull. It would've been a horrifying sight if Fiddleford hadn't seen it happen so often. Too often. He sighed and glared as he watched his partner's eyes turn a pale yellow and his pupils extend to almost cat-like lines. Ford's body contorted and convulsed in an almost seizure-like fashion, signalling Bill had taken over.

"Ah! Morning, McSuckit!" Bill jeered with a smile. He stood up and stretched his arms, taking a few steps around the desk the scientists were sitting at. "It's been a hot minute! Did ya miss me?"

"You were here yesterday, Cipher." Fiddleford rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "We were having a nice conversation until you turned up. What do you want?"

"Don't play dumb. I know you were huddling over your computer, too scared to even breathe around ol' Sixer here." Bill pointed at himself. "That...'confession'...must be driving you crazy, huh? You wanna know if he feels the same. I don't understand you humans. So sentimental, so touchy, so incredibly, stupidly, annoyingly, boring! Why do you care so much?" Bill taunted, jumping next to Fiddleford and gripping his shoulders.

"He-We-It's not like that. We're just...lab partners. Why are you here?" Fiddleford scowled at the demon, his face burning red at the remark.

"Tomorrow, everything changes. Your work will be complete, give or take. And my end of the bargain will be fulfilled. Are you proud of yourself? You should be."

"What do you mean, 'your end'? That was never quite specified." Fiddleford crossed his arms and looked the intruder up and down. He hated to see Ford's body abused like this.

"You'll see, F. You'll see. Anyway, where are the toffee peanuts? Fordsy moved them the other day and I wanna gum up his teeth." Bill bounced around a little as he spoke. He was so unlike anything Fiddleford had ever seen. Full of energy all the time, never sitting still. He had a vile sense of humour and relished in causing misery to others. He was always smiling, always laughing about some sick, twisted thing or other. He had secrets. Secrets Fiddleford would rather not know.

"Uh, I dont reckon he'd like that. But if you insist, they're on the shelf by the door."

Bill grinned gleefully and ran over to the rusted door as fast as his legs could carry him. The thin layer of grey paint covering the door was peeling and chipping in the corners. Fidds made a mental note to repaint the bunker at a later time- but they'd only be down here for a few more weeks at most anyway, so there was no real point.

"You know...you're a real smart guy, Fiddleford. Why do you bother hanging around in this dusty bunker when you could do so much more with your talent?" Bill flourished, rummaging around the crooked shelf he was directed to.

"You have skill. You have brains. Why reduce your life to building some dingy portal in some crazy dude's basement?" Asked Bill, turning to look at Fiddleford with a sinister smile and a packet of peanuts in his hands. "You're destined for greatness, kid. I could always give you that, yknow. I know things you cant even imagine. I can comprehend more than your wildest dreams. I see everything." With that, he ripped the peanuts open open upside down (seemingly on purpose) subsequently making a mess and spilling nuts all over the lab floor. "Whoops!"

"What do you want from me?" Fiddleford growled angrily, leg bouncing a mile a minute. "I'm doing your dirty work. What more can I possibly offer you? You're-" his finger jerked toward Bill, pointing accusingly. "-The reason Ford is building the portal in the first place. You're the reason I'm down here, you're the reason I'm finally doing something worthwhile." Fiddleford crossed his arms, seemingly in thought. "Well. I thought it was worthwhile...until you started hootenannying around in his brain. It's done. What could you possibly want from me?" Fiddleford ranted, waving his arms about in a spectacular display as he spoke.

"Tsk tsk. So many questions. I can only expect that from a scientist though. Don't kid yourself, kid. You know you're not only down here to help him with his investigations."

Fiddleford blushed and averted his eyes. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Bill was right. The pressure was slowly driving him insane. He had nobody to tell other than Stanford and he certain wasn't going to risk ruining everything they had worked for over some lousy feelings. He had a wife and a child back in Palo Alto, but he was eager to leave them to escape to sleepy Oregon as soon as Ford proposed the idea. Fiddleford would never admit it, but it wasnt just the chance of a scientific breakthrough that brought him to Gravity Falls. A long period of trial and error regarding the production of the Memory Gun had left Fiddleford evermore eager to banish those feelings from his brain permanently. However, even with the strength and science behind the device, old love and fond memories prevailed. Fiddleford found it impossible to lie to himself. Yet, it was slightly easier to lie to Ford. Simply brushing away any sort of affection he felt for the man was unfortunately much harder than it needed to be.

"We can make a deal. It's tempting, isnt it? You know you want to. An eye for an eye, kid." Bill outstretched Ford's six-fingered palm eagerly.

"I don't even know what you're offering. How can I agree to something I dont know the outcome of?" Fiddleford wasn't an idiot. He was sensitive and superstitious, but he was in no way dim. He kept his arms tightly crossed to his chest.

"Suit yourself." Bill huffed, picking up a small, blue 38 sided die and twiddling it between his fingers.
"Tomorrow, things change. For better or worse. I'll be watching you." The die flew out of his hands, rolling across the desk and eventually landing on a perfect 8. Shoving the last of the peanuts into his mouth and chewing furiously, he sat back down in Ford's chair and laughed menacingly. Bill's laughter was cold and cruel and sounded almost...metallic. Fiddleford rolled his eyes and turned away as Bill left his partner's mind, and let out a sad sigh before Ford regained consciousness.

"Woah. Didn't expect that to happen this early. Sorry, Fiddleford. Eugh, why are my teeth all stuck together?" Stanford grimaced, pulling a face.

Fiddleford laughed as he watched him attempt to scrape the toffee off his teeth. Enamoured by his goofy scientist friend, he blushed and turned back to his work.