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Sometime in the early 1970's, squeaks and grunts echoed through a hall. A senior in his school gym was grumbling complaints at an empty science fair. The angry teen's shoes squeaking on the polished floorboards as he hurriedly paced. With a shout he threw his fist down on the small table that was trying to ruin his life.
And that’s when it faltered. In that second the boy's heart exploded and the earth stopped along with the swinging robot arm. When it continued to spin a lifetime later it was like the entire world restarted. The frightened teen looked around the empty gym. Surly everyone else in the world had felt the lurch, so why weren’t people rushing in with guns? Now Stanley didn't know much about the do-hickey, but he knew it was never meant to slow down or pause. He had to tell Stanford.
Stan looked very funny to anyone who saw him on his way home. He'd go from sprinting one direction to turning around walking back to school. Then he'd stop and start slapping his head around. He powerwalked and jogged and occasionally walked in slow-motion. He kicked a brick wall so hard he jumped up in pain and then fell down. But finally he completed the short distance and ended on his own doorstep, standing nervously, fear and shame tensing his muscles.
His brother was happy to see him. He was always happy at these days. Eager and brimming with excitement that came with the promise of his wonderful frigging future.
Ford's face fell with every word Stanley said. "I mean I didn't actually touch your spiny thing and it's probably fine and I'm just overreacting.. You know me, the drama queen! But on the chance that it ain't then you gotta know! Cause it did the thing it's not meant to, you know.. It paused kinda... Which wasn't my intention! I swear I never meant.. I would never.."
The genius twin didn't reply to his brother. His face turned from worried about Stan, to angry with him and then into a cold, dead stare. Getting up he left his brother in their bedroom and began a brisk walk to his high school. Stanley followed him of course. Jogging behind him, pleadingly calling out a slew of ‘Sixer, Pointdexter, Ford please!’.
Ford's dreams were shattered the instant he saw his perpetual motion machine. It had stopped. There was a soft curse from over his shoulder and something in Ford snapped.
"You selfish IDIOT! How could you!" Ford saw red, betrayed by the one person, the only person...
"I didn’t touch it Ford! You have to believe me-" Stan begged desperately before his best friend cut him off.
Betrayal ripped through Ford, all his hatred focusing on his twin like a refined laser. "You've never worked hard in your life and now that you realise you've screwed up your future you're trying to drag me down with you! I HATE YOU!"
Tears fell as Stan took an unconscious step back, how could Ford not trust him? He couldn't speak, he couldn't breathe. How could Ford be looking at him like that? "Please," he choked out, his voice breaking.
"LEAVE LEE! I never want to see you again! You clingy, desperate MORON! GET OUT! Stop leeching off my life!" Ford bellowed, not caring about a word Stan had to say. Nothing could ever justify this. This blatant sabotage.
In the hours he spent alone that night in the gym Ford cried several times. Out of anger and guilt and sorrow. His mother came with food at some point. Came to tell him to work hard, that she believed in him. He tried to tell her, tried to think of something to say that could make amends. But there was nothing. He couldn't ask for Stan to come and help, not after what he'd said. He'd couldn't ask his mum to tell Stan he was sorry. That would be cowardly.
Stan had hit the desk, Ford believed that. But that wasn't why the perpetual motion had stopped. His work had truly been sabotaged. There was a loose screw which revealed a wad of chewing gum stuck in the vent. It had fragmented and there was residue on the cogs. He had to disassemble, clean and reassemble the whole thing. And there was no possible way it was Stan's doing. The bubble-gum was pink.
See Stan lived his life in a way that made their father happy. And pink bubble-gum, well that wouldn't go down well in there house-hold. Not even if Stan claimed it had passed to him during a long and heated make out session with a girl. It wasn't that their father hit them anymore.. Well he hadn't hit Ford since primary school, although Stan had been belted a couple times since then. But that was cause he blew up mums vitamiser. No, now Stan just wanted his father's approval now. And that meant being tough, winning, and being just like Filbrick Pines.
What he'd said to Stanley, god he was a dick. How could Stanley ever forgive him? He didn't even mean the things he said, well most of them. Good god he'd called Stanley stupid. This had to be the worst thing he'd ever done. Worse than when the experiment that had ruined the dining table. Worse than when he'd let Stan take the blame for Ms Figg's front yard.
No one thought Stan was clever. His entire life he'd been 'the dumb one' and 'oh you're not clever like your bother are you.' At some point in Stan's life these things had just become fact. If your told something often enough (especially by teachers), you believe it.
But Ford knew Stan was a hell of a lot smarter than everyone thought. Every problem Ford had ever had, every idea he couldn't articulate, every conversation he couldn't quite word.. Stan had solved the problem. His way of thinking was completely different to Ford’s. That’s why Ford loved hearing Stanley’s opinion. And why he was so disappointed in his twin's lack of effort. Ford was sure Stan could do anything he set his mind to, if only he would try. He could probably understand quantum physics if he had thirty years. He could definitely become an engineer, or an architect, or a business manager.. Hell he was so charismatic he could be a politician if he wanted. If only he didn't think so little of himself.
And now, the one person who had never called him stupid. Who had always believed in him.. Had rejected him and called him an idiot. What little self-worth Stan had had this morning was undoubtedly gone. This was one of those problems he'd normally go to Stan with. He'd say 'Stan, I did something terrible and I don't know how to fix it!' Stan would know what to say. How to apologise in an unoffensive, genuine way. How to make the world turn again.
Ford wanted to run to Stan and beg forgiveness, but he equally wanted to flee to Mexico. So instead he stayed in the school gym. Trying to restart motion.
By 2am he had reached a devastating conclusion. Even if Stan's knock to the table had unaligned the devices centre of gravity, (and it might not have) the perpetual force of the momentum at an angle should still have been greater than the residence of the gum. Fact was on a stable, controlled surface the motion just wasn’t strong enough. The rate of decrease was minimal sure and it could probably last weeks in a perfect control.. But it wasn’t perpetual.
Eventually Ford had fallen asleep on one of the mats hidden behind some awful screens decorated by the art classes. When he finally went to leave the gym he only had five minutes till class started, he was in such a rush he almost missed the small pile by his failure of a project. A clean set of clothes, his toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, extra fruit and his school lunch. He just stared at the neat pile in shock. Was it from Stan? His mother would have tried to find him, woken him up surely.. Did this mean Stan was trying to be nice, after everything? Oh god.. Stan didn’t know it wasn’t his fault. Did he leave it here because he couldn't bear the thought of speaking to him? Did he hate him? Had mum forced Stan to give this to him?
He had to find him, apologise, but he just couldn't. What if Stan wanted nothing to do with him? What if he'd lost his brother, his only friend?
Staring at the pile of slept-in cloths in his locker Ford felt empty. He sort of hoped Stan would have shown up by now. Their lockers were side by side. Stan would need his books soon.
The representatives had read over his calculations with a cold stare. He didn’t know if they’d pick him. Every certainty he’d held yesterday was gone.
That day Stan slipped into every class the millisecond before the teacher would close the door. Ignoring his usual seat by Ford in the front row empty. He wouldn't even look at Ford. Every time Ford turned around Stan had his head buried in a book. He ran from Ford’s shouts. He never once saw him at their lockers. He was nowhere to be found during breaks. Students were whispering about him as he searched the halls and it hurt. It always hurt when they stared or laughed or joked.. But he’d always had Stan with him. A buffer, a shield, yelling right back at them or playing up the role of the buffoon just to make Ford laugh regardless of the distaste around them. But Ford knew the truth in his heart when Stan wasn’t even on the way home that afternoon. He hates me. And he should.
Stan only just made it home in time for dinner. He and Ford sat in horrible silence whilst their parents talked. They normally only spoke when spoken to at dinner. But they would normally kick each other under the table and Stan was always throwing comical looks at Ford in silent commentary to their parents conversation.
When Stan asked to be excused in record time Ford had had to gulf down his food in hope of catching him. He choked slightly but was excused as well. Stan wasn't in the kitchen. Leaving his plate in the sink Ford ran upstairs. Walking in on Stan hurriedly packing a bag.
"Stan! Are you leaving?!" Ford cried in horror. This was so much worse than what he thought.
Stan backed against a wall in fear, his body tensing in on itself. "Please Ford, I'll go. You'll never have to see my disgusting face again. Just please, please don't tell dad what I did."
"But.. Where will you go? What about school? What about.. Me?" Ford asked, deflated and shell-shocked.
Stan looked up for the first time since Ford had entered their shared room. "Does it matter? Mum and Dad never wanted me here. Couldn’t even bother to think of a name for me! They just shortened the one they actually liked! And now.. Now you don't want me here either. I should never have been born. I'm not going to amount to anything and I don't need a bloody school to tell me that. And you. I'm doing this for you! You want me gone? I'll go!"
This was wrong, this was so, so wrong! Words tumbled from Fords frantic tongue. "No Stan, no.. I don't want you gone.. Oh Stan! I was a spoilt pig to ever value my project over you! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean what I said! Please, please forgive me Stanley!"
Stanley looked burned. Disbelief etched his features. "Your thingy's broken. I know it keeps stoppin'. I broke it. And, and you were right. I'm jealous and petty and stupid. I didn't mean to drag you down, but.. But it’s all I've ever done. You're better off without me and we both know it. It just took me too long to see." He picked up his bag, unable to look his brother in the eyes. He knew what he'd see there. Ford was just too good. He couldn't be the bad guy and tell Stan how much he despised him. That was ok though, Stan could do it for him.
Jumping desperately to block the doorway Ford's voice was high and pitiful "You didn't break it! And you've only ever held me up higher! I love you Stanley! Your my brother! And what I said, I was so angry.. I didn't mean any of it!! You are smart Stanley! And kind and resourceful and I won't let you leave!"
Stan just stood before him. Unwilling to shove is brother out of the way and unable to believe him. "You need to accept the truth Ford. You're gonna be great, and I am happy for ya. But I'm not gonna be part of'it. And 'this' well, I'll be kicked out in a month anyway. Dad will probably be happy that I'm saving him a month of food money. And you, you need to be free of me. This is for me too Ford. You know I never wanted to stay in Jersey."
Ford was stunned, hot tears fogging up his glasses. How had he reduced his brother to this. He was surely a monster. Stan had always been so strong.. 'The only opinion that matters to me is mine' he'd say after running through their high school hall, giving Ford a piggyback ride and yelling joking insults at anyone they passed. He was always the first to laugh and joke. "Stanley! Stanley I'm so, so sorry. What I said was the rudest most hurtful thing I could have said to you. It was inexcusable. And completely pointless. Truth is, the devices centripetal force doesn't actually add to the stored kinetic energy. That and someone stuck bubble-gum in the vent. But I see now it doesn't matter! Even if it did work it could NEVER be worth more than you!"
Brown eyes drifted up to search his brothers face. "What the smeg does that mean! Wait.. Someone did what to your whirly-mick-do!? Who!"
Something deep in Ford untwisted, allowing his breath to move smoothly again. "I don't know who, and it doesn't really matter anyway. I would have never even realised my invention wasn't sustainable without your little boxing match with the table." Ford said with a smile. "I should have told mum to thank you. Instead I was selfish and obnoxious and I'm sorry. You saved me a world of embarrassment. Thank you Stanley. And I know I don't deserve it, but if I may, I will try to make it up to you. Also you need to finish high school. Otherwise you’ll probably end up with a mullet or something."
Stan shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. He didn't dare hope to believe what he thought Ford was saying.
"Please Stan." Ford whispered, searching his twins downcast face.
There was a thud as a duffel bag hit the floor and suddenly Ford was being squeezed in a boxers version bear hug. It hurt but he deserved it.
Late that night twins whispered to one another in the dark.
"So made any plans yet?" One said as he wiggled his twelve toes.
"Oh you know me, only ever had the one plan.. what about you Pointdexter?" Actually Stan's plan had been to move to Empire City. Find a nice-ish bus station. The only real talent he had was taking a punch so maybe he could do some illegal underground boxing. He had heard they paid people to go down. If he was lucky he might get a steady gig as a labourer. Stan didn't dream of wealth like his Dad did. "What would you have done if we hadn't found the assassination attempt on your do-hickey? I mean, if you couldn't go to that school.. Would you maybe want to.."
Ford winced, he should have seen that one coming. "Oh.. Lee.. I mean the dream. It would be great, and maybe in a few years we will. But there is so much that I need to learn."
"Oh yeah," the bed creaked as Stan rolled over. "I guess I always just assumed.."
"Stan. I need to be taught so that when we do take our adventure, instead of just fighting the monsters I know are out there. I can understand them, understand the world and the universe.. I want to uncover the secrets of the universe someday. If I don't get into West Coast Tech, well then I guess I'll have to study somewhere else. But I have to learn. You should study something too. Your smarter than you know bro."
"Heh. Well if the genius says so.." Stan mocked, disregarding the notion of any school ever wanting him. "What do you think will do if your 'four hours of motion' thingy doesn't win you that scholarship?"
Ford frowned, that was really just the same question. "Well I guess I'd go to Backupsmore Uni-"
With a sigh Stan cut him off "No Ford, what do you think Dad will do if.."
"I.. Why would he do anything?" Ford asked confused. Sitting up in bed and trying to see his brother in the shadows. "What do you think he'll do?"
Stan groaned, him and his big mouth. "Well, he's told me I'm out as soon as I graduate. But, that's cause I won't be in any school. It was a stupid thought. He'd never say that if I were going to college. He'd.. We’ll all be here for Christmas." Stan winced. At least he was a terrific liar. He'd have to start making money asap. Cause Ford wasn't gonna get in to the hot-shot uni. No scholarship, no promise of making it big, no money from dad, no free with scholarship dorm room.. And there was no way Ford could sleep on the streets. No, Stan would find a job and find a cheap place for them till Ford’s uni started. Ford probably wouldn't want to live with Stan though.. But it’d be short at least. Then he could pay for Ford to get a dorm room and he could chill in his car. As long as he used the showers on the beach first Ford would never suspect. Bless him but the genius was gullible as fuck.
A smile spread over Ford's face in the dark. Stan didn't know how easy it was to pretend to be your twin in front of a government institution.
Δ
Somewhere in the mindscape a yellow triangle was absolutely livid. "SUHPDWXUH VFUHDPLQJ PXUGHU RI D FLUFOH!!" His nasal voice rang out. The deal he'd made with a cheerleader came crashing down in ruins. Thanks to that stupid brother the key to his success was going to go to a great school and never end up in the deadbeat town he needed the nerd to end up in.
Δ
The judges had not been impressed that day. Their father had barley said a word behind his dark sunglasses. A week later he'd turned to the boys during dinner and said "so, got anywhere lined up boys?"
Stan had replied in a heartbeat, "I can have a place for us by Saturday sir."
Ford had been crushed of course. The two had rented the friend of a friends garage for a month before they moved to the town Ford's fallback school was in. Stan was sure Ford would get in, so he hadn't understood Ford's apprehension. That is until two acceptance letters came.
With Stan and Ford both dorming at Backupsmore University they finally had separate rooms. Hell they were even in different buildings, and yet they were always together during those years of study. Stan did end up switching the Arts course Ford had applied him for to a Arts and business degree.
They still had dinners at the parents for birthdays and holidays, getting to know their baby brother. But Ford never really forgave their father. Though Stan didn't even see a need to hold a grudge. Filbrick had always been frank about the give and take in a family.
Stan had always had odd jobs during his uni years, he after all hadn’t gotten a scholarship thanks to Ford’s ‘realistic’ results. He enjoyed working as a bartender but gave it up in his second year due to the erratic shifts and early morning hours. After that he worked at a nice family owned garage. Repairing cars during the mornings, going to classes in the afternoons and studying with his brother and their friend Fiddleford in the evenings over bowls of two-minute noodles. He wasn't looking for millions after all. He only needed enough for rent and food.
After school Ford went off to some small town hole far from the city Stan now called home.
During a long overdue visit to the genius twin Stan had been appalled by his living conditions. The shack he'd helped his twin build one summer was a sty. Ford was eating as unhealthily as they had a school. And due to employing Fidds as an extra physicist his 100K grant was quickly drying out.
After a visit into town to buy some fresh food Stan discovered his brother was something of a ghost legend in the simple town.
Ford had busted in on Stan's first 'guided tour' narrowly saving a pretty young woman from being zapped in the eye. After a lot of yelling Ford had agreed to leave a few thing on display in the living room for Stan to show off to the towns dimwits. Like Fidds had said, he could always shut it down after a month. Even Bill had told Ford to let Stan make him some extra cash.
Being Mr Mystery had been distracting, but Stan quickly discovered Ford's friendly triangular guide into the unknown. And that this ‘Bill’ had been talking to Ford since before they'd built the shack. That and the giant, power sucking, doomsday machine he was building with Fidds' help down in the secret lower lab. It did not go down well for Bill. The introduction of 'I found a spell to summon an omnipresent being under these ancient doomsday, apocalypse warnings' tended to do that.
Ford hadn't believed his twin, again. Ah well, 'genius's never learn' as Stan always said.
Eventually Fidds and Stan concocted a plan. They'd had Stan's girlfriend sew some truth-telling-teeth into Ford's coat. Then Fidds threw it on a possessed Ford tada! The words 'I can't wait to turn you all into a conscious soup! My gang and I will drink down your screams before we lay waste to the galaxy!' had been said with a manic grin Ford had never worn before.
A year after the Bill mess and Stan was moving in with Susan, they were getting a puppy and everything. The Mystery Shack was having a huge moving out party for My Mystery. Stan was sifting through an esky full of ice in the kitchen. Some rich prick had lost a ring in it apparently and was threatening legal do-da. Deputy Blubs said he couldn't file charges but that never stopped anyone from suing.
Fidds had been looking like he was having fun which was nice to see. A local girl was clearly very interested. So Stan was surprised when his old friend ducked into the kitchen to hide. Pressing his head into a cabinet and groaning loudly. "So Fidds.. That chick causing you trouble?" Stanley asked.
"What? No, she seems really nice. I.. I think I should ask her out." Fiddleford grumbled into the cupboard.
A mischievous grin lit up Stanley's face. "Hmm so she's good for ya, but let me guess.. You're in love with another?"
Fidds head snapped around to face Stan "I.. How did you guess?"
"Ah, Sue makes me watch a lot of soap operas." Stan countered easily, ceasing his rummaging to bury his stone cold, frigid fingers in his sweaty armpits.
"Aw yeah, I bet she really has to chain you to the couch." Fidds teased with a grin.
Stan smiled and winked as he replied, "kickin' and screamin'. So.. Fidds, just how long have you been in love with my brother then?"
Fidds voice creaked up to an unnatural octave, "WHAA- OMG please don't tell him!" He shrieked, actually leaping forward and clutching Stan's shoulders.
"Shhesh calm down hippie! I won't say anything, I promise. But, you should." He said, pulling out his less-numb fingers to reveal an oversized gold ring. "Now if you'll excuse me mate, I have a freshly perfumed gift for one of our guests." He said evilly.
Fiddleford McGucket stood and gulped nervously in the kitchen. Alcohol, he thought. Lots and lots of alcohol was necessary before his confession of love. At least everyone was here tonight, he could say goodbye before Ford kicked him out. I mean how do you say 'I've been in love with you since you first corrected Professor DeMayo in class' without ruining a friendship. Stanford had never felt that way about anyone.. Except maybe Bill Cipher. Maybe Ford just wasn’t built that way. Fidds knew that if he didn't do it tonight, he probably never would.
Ford never drank much at these things. So he was completely sober when later that night, when he and Fidds were quickly cleaning up all the leftover food and spilt drinks before they collapsed (they really didn't want to attract gnomes again). Fidds confessed his love for his study-buddy, his best friend, his colleague and partner.
It didn't go as badly as he'd feared, but it was nothing like he'd dared dream. There was no yelling or passionate kissing, just a stunned Stanford. The silence was occasionally broken with soft questions like 'why me?', 'are you sure?' and 'why did you never tell me?' All of which Fiddleford found himself having easy, detailed answers for, which was surprising really. He normally didn't allow himself to think of Stanford in those ways. It always made him feel like he was mistreating him, taking advantage in some dark way.
Finally Stanford said, "I can't lose you. Other than Stan, you're really the only friend I've ever had."
"I know, and I'm so sorry to put you in this positio-" Fidds started saying, guilt wracking his body.
"I already love you Fidds, and I think I'd like to go on a date with you. But what if.. I can only agree if you promise.. You really are my only other friend. I love Ma and Shermie, but not like I love Stan. You're literally the only person I'm not related to that I love. I refuse to lose that." Ford said, digging the nails of his littlest fingers into his thumbs to stave off panic. Alien security systems were one thing but this? This was terrifying.
"You love me?" Fiddleford barely breathed. He had tried to listen to the words Ford had said after but they had seemed so slow and foggy after the easy statement.
"Of course I do. I want to hear your opinions and ideas. I feel so content to just to work with you, or sit with you, or eat with you.. Your happiness is worth it's metaphorical weight in gold to me. If that isn't love I believe I've been misinformed. Also combatability wise we should be sound, I have had the occasional, well I mean you're an attractive man and I have had an occasional natural reation." Ford said soundingly strangely professional.
Fiddleford was shocked and then ecstatic. He lunged at Ford, rolling askew him on the couch and giggling like a school girl. Together the to two made out between Fidds' stale breath, although Ford kept turning away with a blush. But Fiddleford was content just to hold him, with sneaky fingers exploring his chest and hair just because they could.. Eventually as Fidds grew sluggish, they settled and contently cuddled each other to sleep, unable to keep the grins off their faces.
Δ
Under a crystal blue sky a family sat in a masterly-crafted boat. 'The Stan'O War' written proudly on the side.
Susan held a baby in her arms, watching her husband teach their son how to fish from underneath her giant sunhat.
Another child sat on Fiddleford's shoulders, using a remote control to operate a giant robotic sea monster just under the water. Making it chase after a dramatically screaming Stanford, swimming away from the robot in mock fear. Giant claws encased Ford, lifting him out of the water. The child giggling and proclaiming, "I caught you!!" to her father in pure joy before having the robot set the dripping man back in the boat. With a roar a soaking Ford tackled the love of his life and his daughter. At the attack a rather wet dog jumped up in excitement. Barking at the dripping man attacking his own husband with a wet hug. The noise adding to the horrorifed shrieks of protests coming from the two Mr McGucket's.
Stanley picked up his son with a rocket noise before depositing him into the fray of tangled, wet limbs. The two cousins began to unskilfully wrestle Ford and Fidds into the warped wooden floor of the boat. Both of them laughing gleefully as Fidds dramatically protested the clear cruelty against an old man and Ford loudly lamented the question of how two so young could clearly be pro wrestlers.
That is before a conspiratorial glance passed between them (their minds working in sync in the way only partners in work and house can) and the two children flew squealing into the lake. Their floaties helping them swim to the giant robot so they could climb aboard and do it all again.