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"Ford, this is a terrible idea," Stan said for what was probably the fifth time that evening.
Without looking away from the game, Ford sighed. "It's not a date."
Stan snorted.
"You literally invited Bill Cipher to dinner."
"It was a courtesy."
"A courtesy?" Stan nearly dropped his controller. "He's a cosmic nightmare!"
Ford remained focused on the screen.
"He's been unusually cooperative lately."
Stan stared at him as though he'd lost his mind.
"Ford, beings like Bill don't work that way."
Ford rolled his eyes.
"He's gonna fall in love with you."
That finally earned a laugh.
Ford shook his head.
"Yeah, right. I'm not that lovable."
At that exact moment, his character fired a rocket launcher.
The explosion engulfed Stan's character.
"Kaboom!" Ford exclaimed triumphantly.
Stan's avatar was reduced to pixels.
"Aw, come on!"
Ford grinned.
Stan pointed his controller accusingly.
"Okay. We agree on something."
Ford laughed.
Then everything went silent.
Not normal silence.
The wrong kind of silence.
The television crackled.
The lights flickered.
The air suddenly felt heavier.
Stan slowly lowered his controller.
Ford's smile vanished.
A strange yellow glow appeared behind the couch.
Stan's eyes widened.
"...Ford."
"Don't."
"Ford."
"Stanley."
"WHY IS HE BEHIND US?"
Slowly, a triangular silhouette unfolded from the darkness.
A single eye opened.
A black bowtie appeared.
Then a top hat.
Then a grin.
A very large grin.
Bill Cipher floated behind the couch.
"WOW."
Stan nearly launched himself over the furniture.
The scream that escaped him could probably be heard from neighboring dimensions.
Bill winced.
"Rude."
"You can't just do that!"
"Sure I can."
Bill casually floated upside down.
"I've destroyed universes with less effort."
"FORD!"
"I see him."
"DO SOMETHING!"
Ford pinched the bridge of his nose.
"What exactly would you like me to do?"
"I don't know! Throw a chair!"
Bill ignored Stan entirely.
His eye locked onto Ford.
His grin widened.
Dangerously.
"Not lovable?"
Ford groaned instantly.
"No."
"Not lovable?!"
"Bill."
"THAT'S your argument?"
Stan looked between them.
Then realization slowly dawned across his face.
"Oh no."
"Don't encourage him," Ford warned.
Bill laughed.
The lights exploded.
Golden spotlights burst from nowhere.
A stage materialized beneath Bill's feet.
Microphones dropped from the ceiling.
The room transformed into a bizarre cosmic theater.
Stan looked horrified.
"Oh no."
Ford buried his face in his hands.
"Oh yes."
Bill spread his arms dramatically.
"IT'S MUSICAL NUMBER TIME."
"I hate this house," Stan muttered.
Music erupted through the room.
Stars appeared overhead.
The walls dissolved into galaxies.
The couch began floating through space.
Stan grabbed the armrest.
"I DIDN'T AGREE TO THIS!"
Bill pointed dramatically at Ford.
"Not lovable? Impossible!
That's a line that doesn't fit!
You build portals through dimensions
Then pretend that's normal—quit!"
Ford looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
Bill teleported beside him.
Ford immediately scooted away.
Bill appeared beside him again.
Ford scooted again.
Bill reappeared.
"See? Adorable."
"Stop that."
Bill continued anyway.
"You filled up thirty journals!
You challenged space and time!
And every time you call me crazy—"
He paused.
"Okay, sometimes that's fair."
"Sometimes?!" Stan shouted.
The song continued.
Bill floated upside down inches from Ford's face.
"You're stubborn and impossible!
Paranoid down to the core!
You slam the door and tell me leave—
So naturally I want more!"
Ford covered his face with both hands.
Across from him, Stan had started laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
"Oh my God."
"Stanley."
"He wrote a song."
"Stanley."
"He wrote a WHOLE song."
Bill ignored him.
For once, however, his usual theatrical confidence seemed to falter.
The music softened.
The stars dimmed.
Bill slowly descended onto the coffee table.
His eye never left Ford.
When he spoke again, his voice was quieter.
Less performative.
Less like a joke.
"I've seen a trillion minds before..."
The room grew still.
"A trillion worlds go by..."
Ford lowered his hands.
"Yet somehow when I think of them..."
For the first time all evening, Bill wasn't smiling.
"You're still the one that comes to mind."
Silence.
Ford looked genuinely caught off guard.
Stan stopped laughing.
Even Bill seemed surprised by his own words.
The moment hung in the air.
Three seconds passed.
Then Bill immediately ruined it.
"Anyway, that's my incredibly objective assessment."
Stan burst out laughing again.
"Objective."
"Very scientific."
Ford stared at him.
"You are literally a floating triangle."
"And yet my data remains flawless."
Stan collapsed against the couch cushions.
"I warned you, Ford."
"You did."
"He's in love with you."
Bill immediately spun around.
"OH, NOW WE'RE USING THE L-WORD?"
"YOU WROTE A MUSICAL!"
"THAT DOESN'T PROVE ANYTHING!"
"IT PROVES EVERYTHING!"
Ford groaned.
Bill floated back beside him.
Stan laughed even harder.