A little more before I hit the hay:
Fiddleford watched in confusion as Ford stopped moving completely. He looked shocked mixed with a little bit of what looked like fear but before he could ask him if he was alright, the expression was gone, replaced by a forced smile.
"Ah, looks like I got the wrong adress, sorry!" He said, quickly packing his vaccuum.
As Fiddleford watched him, his gaze fell on Stanford's hands and he realized they only had 5 digits.
"Wait. What are ya and why are ya pretending to be Stanford?" He asked, squinting distrustfully.
In the year and a half he'd been working for Ford, he'd seen a lot of weird supernatural stuff so a shapeshifter of some kind didn't seem too far fetched. A lot of creatures out there liked to play tricks on them after all.
The thing pretending to be Stanford frowned at him.
"What do you mean what am I? Do I look like a unicorn to you?" He said, a little harshly. "Look, I'm sorry I tried to scam you okay? I had no way to know you're friends with Ford. I'll just leave and we can both forget this whole thing even happened."
"What are ya talking about?"
The... man? Looked intensely back at him.
"Just don't tell Ford you saw me okay? He already has a low enough opinion about me, no need to add to it."
"I have no idea what yer even talking about!! Who are you??" Fiddleford yelled frustratingly.
The man frowned, looking just as confused as he was now.
"Uhhh... I'm Stanley Pines? You know my brother Stanford Pines, right? Judging by your reaction and," he gestured at Fiddleford, "by how nerdy you look."
Stanford had a brother? He knew of Shermie, his little brother who should finish highschool in a few months but he'd never heard of a Stanley. Although... He stared at the man's hands. That would explain the uncanny ressemblance and the more common number of fingers.
"I didn't know Stanford had a brother besides Shermie." He said, unthinkingly.
Stanley's face fell and for a moment he looked... crushed. Defeated. Like he'd been carrying a heavy weight that just got heavier.
Fiddleford sighed. He was sure that Ford had had a good reason to not mention Stanley but he also knew his friend well enough to know that the reason wasn't necessarily correct. Despite what Ford liked to think, he could be wrong sometimes. Very rarely.
Besides, he couldn't let a man leave his house looking like that.
"Ya know what? It's almost noon, why don't ya come inside and have a sandwich? I bet ya haven't eaten anythin' yet." Stanley looked tempted, but conflicted. "We can trade funny stories about yer brother."
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