Bipper: Success!! Absolute triumph! An outstanding outcome, a knock-out out victory!! And I’m not just taking about the bare-knuckle brawl I just had with Wendy because she saw me with the costume on and I wasn’t able to run away fast enough!! Ok, I didn’t beat her up exactly, but I managed to escape with the vessel mostly intact so it still counts by my standards.
Bipper: Dipper’s parents have been thoroughly charmed, ‘s what I mean. Absolutely gobsmacked with the adorable cuteness and quirky persona I crafted, just as expected, and of course they wouldn’t dare deny Dipper a trip here through his short break and risk two tiny broken hearts! Their only caveat has been that Dipper keeps up his grades until then, which shouldn’t be all that difficult since it’s not so far away and Ford and I help him a ton with homework, and that we take loads of photos together. Normally I wouldn’t be too happy to have my staggering good looks plastered all around informing everyone of my existence when I’m in this weakened state, but the only person that could possibly do anything bad with such information is trying to friendship again with me so I’m feeling much more lenient on that front. Honestly, I’m just...I haven’t felt this happy in months.
Best of luck on your interview for the Official Dipper's Boyfriend Position! I like how your resume looks so far, and you got the good presence nailed already. You got a good shot at this ;D
Bill: Well thank you too for the good wishes! Man, you guys keep wishing me luck on this like there’s any possibility that I may screw it up or something! But rest assured, I won’t. I can’t. There’s no room for screwing this one up.
Bill, meticulously arranging props in front of laptop: … Okay,
that looks enough like organization getting unintentionally messy …
[puts cotton balls in cheeks to make them rounder,
straightens tie, puts on stolen glasses, picks up pen]
And now, to wait for the skyelp to come through!
[bends over “homework” as if dutifully studying …
holds exact pose for over 5 minutes while quivering
with excitement]
*laptop chimes as skyelp comes online*
Dipper, excitedly: Will? You there? I’m here with Mom and—
[registers costume (especially new additions of sweater vest,
tie, and glasses) and gasps]
Bill, beaming and voice-cracking: Dippy!
Dipper, breathlessly happy: … h-hey there …
Ms. Pines, squealing softly to her husband: My gosh, he’s so cute!
Mr. Pines, just as softly and trying not to laugh: He looks like
a tiny, Irish accountant. Like he’s balancing the ledgers for
the Leprechaun King.
Ms. Pines: I know! I just wanna pat his chubby, little cheeks
and put a pencil behind his ear!
Dipper, blushing: M-Mom! Dad! Don’t embarrass me with B-Will!
[clearing throat]
Um, Will. This is m-my Mom and Dad.
Bill, dripping with wholesome enthusiasm: Pleased to meecha,
Ms. and Mr. Pines! I’m William Corduroy, but you can call me Will.
Or even (ugh) Willy, if you like.
Ms. Pines: Well, Willy, it is sooo nice to finally meet you!
Mr. Pines, sternly: What are your intentions with my son?
[gets smacked by wife while son groans]
What? C’mon, I had to ask it at least once. I’m a dad!
Bill: My intentions?
[flashes through everything he’s imagined doing with Dipper
since the twins had to go home … it’s pretty wild;
blushes; starts to sweat]
hhh … HOLD HANDS! MAYBE KISS FACE! CH-CHERISH!
[gestures helplessly at Dipper]
I mean, look at him! What else could anyone intend with him?!
Ms. Pines and Dipper: D’awww!
Mr. Pines, still sternly: You tell me. What else do you intend?
Dipper, burying face in hands: Oh, Moses, Dad …
Ms. Pines: Dear, stop, you’re making the poor boys nervous. And
teenage boys already sweat enough as it is. Just look at Dipper.
Dipper: Mom!
Ms. Pines, insistently: We can have a talk about … safety
and responsibility later.
[Bill and Dipper exchange a horrified look]
Right now, we’re here to get to know Dipper’s little boyfriend.
So stop acting out clichés for 5 minutes, please. Now, Willy …
um … How’s your day been? What’ve you been up to?
Bill, relaxing visibly as things go back on script: Oh, y’know.
Same old, same old. School. Now I’m just here at the library,
gettin’ my homework done for the weekend.
[gestures at prop “homework” like a good student]
Sorry I couldn’t do this at home where you could meet my dad,
but we don’t have a computer. If you can believe that.
It’s also why I’m still wearin’ these school clothes.
Bill: Let’s see … I also like psychology. Dream analysis
is fun, ‘cause then I getta tell people that, like, I’m the boy
of their dreams … analysis! At least, I getta tell Dipper that.
Mr. Pines, snorting: Okay, I’ll give you points for that one, kid.
Dad Joke level of corniness. 6.5/10.
Bill, grinning: Gee, thanks!
Mr. Pines: You getting good grades in math and psychology?
Bill, playing at modesty: Oh, golly, sir. I don’t wanna brag …
But it is easier to work hard when it’s fun, y’know?
Unlike the way they do history classes here.
Mr. Pines: Boring teachers?
Bill: Yeah. Plus, they’re complete schills for the conservative
military-industrial complex. It’s bad propaganda done borin’ly.
Mr. Pines, perking up: What makes you say that?
Bill: Oh, the usual. The don’t even teach that Ben Franklin
was secretly Gwen Franklin, that JFK was killed by mobsters
from the future to keep him from becomin’ a robo-dictator,
and that Ronald Reagan was a mind-controlled puppet
put in power by a conspiracy of billionaires to keep colonizin’
other countries for their resources and essentially slave labor.
Mr. Pines: Ugh! Tell me about it! And it’s all because they want
to keep the populace uninformed and easy to pacify.
Bill, defiantly: But it’s not gonna work on me! Or Dippy!
We do our own historical research and stick it to the man!
Mr. Pines: Boo-yeah! Tear down corporate capitalism!
[turns to wife]
Okay, I like this kid.
Bill: I can see where Dipper gets his keen judgment
of character. Along with his striking good looks.
Mr. Pines: Oh, go on!
*Dipper gives bill a secret thumbs-up*
Ms. Pines, smirking: Okay, now who has to dial back
the falling for cheesy compliments?
[turns back to Bill]
So, math and psychology and rebellious history study …
Given any thought to what you’d like to do with those
when you grow up?
Bill, feigning thoughtfulness: I … think … I’d …
like to make video games. Coding and design and such.
But ones that make players think and be creative.
Ms. Pines, impressed: Really? Has Dipper told you that’s
the kind of work I do?
Bill: What? No! Gosh, Dippy, why’d you never tell me!
That’s just swell, ma’am! What kind?
Ms. Pines: Indie games, so there’s a lot of side-scrolling
and retro RPG elements—very basic gaming elements—
but sooo much more heart. And, like, artistic integrity.
The kinda stuff that really touches people.
Bill, starry-eyed: That’s the kinda stuff I wanna make!
Ms. Pines: It’s not easy … but it’s worth it.
So, how’d you and Dipper meet? When’d you start dat—
Mr. Pines: Wait, sorry, hold up. Is that a freakin’ skull?
[points at shelf]
Bill, genuinely surprised: What?
[turns, has to take off glasses to actually see]
Well, gosh, it looks like it is.
Dipper, mouthing silently: Why in the 79 hells would you
even put that there?!
Bill, honestly: I’m honestly not sure why the library’d
have that. I didn’t even notice it.
Mr. Pines: Might wanna get your prescription checked, kiddo.
Bill: They’re reading glasses, so …
Dipper, mouthing silently: Where’d you even …
ARE THOSE GRUNCLE FORD’S?!
———
[Meanwhile, back at the Shack,
Ford, stumbling around all squint-eyed: Ah, Stan,
there you are! Have you seen my glasses?
Sascrotch, standing mutely like a taxidermied figure: …
Ford: It’s the darndest thing. I’d swear I set them on
the end table when I laid down to take a nap, but
couldn’t find them when I woke up. Of course, I’m not
having much luck finding my glasses without my glasses.
Sascrotch: …
Ford: What? Oh, am I still getting the silent treatment
for saying you’re too old to have hair that long?
Sascrotch: …
Ford, indignantly turning away: Fine, who needs you
anyway? I’d find them without your hel—
Ford, tripping: AAA!
Ford, lying flat on his face: … I’m alright!]
———-
Bill, continuing as if to the Dad, but actually to Dipper:
It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.
[goes and puts a book in front of the skull]
There! Problem solved!
Mr. Pines: Yeah, that’s much bet …
Is that The Necronomicon?!
Bill, genuinely surprised again: … Huh. Looks like it is.
[picks it up, pages through it … shakes head]
Nah, it’s just The Nockoffronomicon. You can tell ‘cause
it doesn’t mention Shaggy or even Bob. And instead of
Cthulhu, it’s dedicated to Cthhula.
[puts different book in front of skull]
The best dancer among the Elder Gods, am I right?
Mr. Pines: Heh … 7/10 for that one.
Bill: Gee, thanks! Anyway, um … D’you mind if I tell ‘em,
Dippy? You’re sure it’s okay?
[pretending to get bashful]
So, um … Dippy used to have a crush on my big sis, Wendy.
And ‘cause she works at the Shack, they’d be, like,
hanging out together a lot. He even came over to the house
a few times. And, um, naturally I had a crush on him
from the get go, ‘cause just look at him! Who wouldn’t?
Dipper, blushing: Ah, jeez …
Ms. Pines: D’awww!
Mr. Pines, grudgingly: D’awww …
Bill, making himself grin and blush wholesomely: So I started
coming along to hang out. Then, before I knew it, it was just us
hanging out alone together. And we were exploring the woods
one day when we found some wild mistletoe—golly, I told him,
“That’s wild mistletoe. That’s what it looks like in the wild.”
and then he said … No, he stepped under it first, then he said,
“Guess we gotta kiss now.”—and so we kissed.
Mr. Pines, slapping his son on the back: You sly, little dog!
Bill: And I was like, “Gee, that was swell!” Can you believe it?!
Real lame-o line to follow a first kiss, right? And he was like,
“We could do it again, if you want.” And I said, “But, gosh,
we’re not even dating! Everyone’ll think I’m a boy-floozy!”
Ms. Pines: HA! Oh, that’s precious!
Bill, giggling: Y-yes, ma’am! It was! And then Dippy, he said,
“Well, be my boyfriend. We’ll start calling our hang-outs dates,
and I’ll fight anyone who calls you a floozy.”
It was soooo chivalrous!
Dipper, beet red and with his hands in his face: Stahp …
*a while later, after the parents have left*
Dipper, relieved: That … That went a lot better
than expected. And they sure loved Willy Corduroy.
Bill, self-assuredly: Natch. I’m inescapably charming,
no matter the alias.
[pulls out cotton balls and tosses them in the trash]
If you ever call me Willy, though, I will shank
one of your stuffed animals. That was me takin’ one for
the team. Which is us, by the way. The team is us.
Dipper: Heh! Yeah, I gathered that.
Bill: Still, I’m surprised they never asked about my eyes …
Dipper: Oh, I “warned” them in advance. Told them you had
a medical condition, and that you were really sensitive about it.
Bill: Good thinking. You’re so smart. And handsome. And sexy.
Dipper, grinning: Stahp!
Bill, grinning back: Nope. Never. Because I love you.
