(A/N: I couldn't think of a better analogue for Ford, so I edited the first chapter.  Your dad is now Ford, which opened up an interesting new avenue considering Ford and Bill's relationship dynamics.)

"Still not asleep, Cool Ranch?"

"Y-your story is too interesting."

"Go to sleep."

"Five more minutes?"

"Aww, don't give me those puppy eyes.  Fine, I'll keep going."

----------------------

"Who does she think she is?" Dipper demanded, slamming his fist against the counter.  "No one gets away with saying "no" to me!"

The other patrons of the tavern were wisely ignoring him, studiously minding their own business.  Everyone knew not to get in Dipper's way during one of his rages.

Mabel, sitting next to him at the counter, sipped her drink with one pinky extended.  Even in the dingy tavern, she comported herself with class.  Her sequined leotard and flashy amulet in her hair stood out like a Christmas star among the peasants that frequented this establishment, and she made no attempt to hide her distaste.

"Don't worry about it too much, bro-bro," she said supportively.  "If she doesn't come to her senses and realize you're the only guy for her, we can always burn her house down."

Dipper chuckled.  "You always know exactly what to say."

"Before we resort to that, though, there are plenty of other things we can try," she continued.  "We've got magic on our side, after all.  The charms and glamours you're using already have managed to turn every girl's head in town except Y/N, so I'm sure all she needs is a little extra push."

"An extra push got me a shot of pepper spray in the face," Dipper grumbled.  Mabel stifled her giggle behind a dainty cough.

 "How about a love potion?" she suggested.  "They've worked for me in the past."

Dipper smirked, remembering how she'd twisted poor Gideon around her little finger before disposing of him heartlessly.  "A love potion, eh?  That might work..."

"Just leave everything to me," Mabel hissed, her lips an inch away from his ear.  "I don't know what you see in that freak, but little miss Y/N will be all yours soon enough."

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"I d-don't like this part..."

"Sorry, sweetie.  I'll skip past it."

--------------------------

Ford made his way through the tangled forest, nearly tripping over rocks and protruding roots with every other step.  He would have been making better progress if his nose hadn't been stuck in his notebook, recording and cataloguing everything he walked past and sketching new ideas for improbable devices.

If he had been paying attention, he would have noticed the sudden absence of wildlife as he crossed an invisible boundary.  His first clue that something was amiss was when the sky abruptly darkened.

Ford looked up from his book for the first time in hours.

"Now how did I miss that?" he muttered to himself.

Floating above him in the sky, defying all laws of gravity and reason, was a giant stone pyramid.  Ford stared at it, his hands sketching it in his book without conscious direction.  When he was finished, he looked down at what he had written.

'Giant Floating Pyramid' he'd labeled it.  How does it float? He'd annotated the picture.  This requires more investigation.

Ford hiked closer to the impossible structure, the instinct for self-preservation thoroughly squashed by his overwhelming curiosity.  When he was directly underneath the pyramid, he stared up at it in consternation.

"I might not have thought this through," he continued his internal monologue.  "How do I get up there?"

Still focused on the task he'd set himself, he paid no heed to the whispering that surrounded him until it was too late.

"Now who do we have here?"  a sibilant hiss seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere.  "Someone's wandered into Cipher territory, I see."

Ford looked around wildly.  "Who's there?" he questioned.  "Do you know anything about this pyramid?  Can you take me up there?"

The voice seemed to smile.  "If I were you, I'd turn and run before it's too late.  There's nothing waiting for you in this pyramid but death."

"How does it float?" Ford asked, ignoring the warning with his pen poised to write.  "Who built it?  How did it get here?  Why didn't I see it until it was practically on top of me?"

The voice paused.  "You're... kidding, right?  Didn't you hear what I just said about the death?"

"Yes, yes." Ford waved it off impatiently.  "How do I get up there?"  He flipped in his journal to a page where he had sketched a prototype for a trebuchet, but he didn't have the parts to build it in the middle of the forest.

"You really are tenacious, aren't you?" the voice laughed.  "Well, if you're so determined to throw your life away, I won't stop you."

Ford grinned in triumph, clutching his journal with both hands as a wind kicked up around him.  He closed his eyes against the whirling dust as a localized twister buffeted him.

Just as suddenly as it had started, the mysterious wind died.  When Ford opened his eyes cautiously, he found himself in a darkened stone hallway.  He immediately began writing his observations, pen flying to keep up with his racing thoughts.

First he sketched his surroundings.  One wall was slanted and the other perpendicular, so he deduced he was in the outer edge of the building.  Torches set along the walls provided barely-adequate illumination.  Ford continued to sketch as he walked down the hall, labeling in detail the architecture and approximate dimensions of the building.

"Why do we have to be the welcoming committee?" a gravelly voice echoed from around the corner.  Ford paused, deciding to listen in.

"Because that's our job, dude," a younger-sounding voice responded.  "We deal with intruders so the boss doesn't have to."

Ford rounded the corner and stopped short.  He'd expected to see two men in the hallway, but at first glance it was empty save for a miniature grandfather clock and a lit candlestick seemingly abandoned on the floor.

Ford picked up the candlestick in a six-fingered grip, holding it aloft and looking around for where the voices might have come from.

"Whoa, dude, that tickles!" the candlestick said.  Ford nearly dropped it in surprise.

"Extraordinary," he breathed, examining it from every angle.  "You're a living inanimate object.  How is this possible?  Who created you, and why?  Are you truly alive, or some animatronic facsimile?"

"Oh, we've got quite the genius here," the clock spoke up.  Ford nearly dropped the candlestick in surprise.  "This knucklehead asks the real important questions."

Ford put down the candlestick gently, picking up the clock and inspecting the gearworks.

"Hey, paws off!" the clock protested.  "I may be an object, but that doesn't mean I like being objectified!"

"How do you work?" Ford asked, ignoring the complaints.  "Are you magic?"

The clock scoffed.  "Are we magic, he asks.  We're cursed!"

"Fascinating," Ford muttered, putting the clock back on the floor to sketch them both.  "How long have you been in this state?"

"You know what, I really don't remember," the clock said irritably.  "After the first thousand years or so, you really tend to lose track of time."

"How does a clock lose track of time?" Ford asked.

"That's it, you've won yourself a one-way ticket back to the ground!" the clock growled.

"Stan, dude," the candlestick objected.  "It's not his fault we're like this, so just cool it."

The clock, Stan, turned on his companion.  "That's right, Soos," he mockingly agreed.  "And you know whose fault it really is?"

A chill wind blew through the hallway, making Soos' flames tremble.  The torches that sparsely illuminated the hallway flickered and nearly went out.

Soos and Stan both suddenly looked scared.  "I'm sure you didn't mean anything by that," Soos said hastily.

"What was that just now?" Ford asked, pen poised to record the information.

"Nothing," they said in unison.  

Ford sighed impatiently.  "I'm a scientist, fellas.  I can't work off of incomplete information."

"How about we give you a tour of the Fearamid?" Soos suggested.  

Stan brightened.  "Now there's an idea!  I knew I kept you around for some reason, Soos.  Come this way," he instructed Ford.  "If there's one thing I'm good at, it's giving tours."

Ford was unwilling to let the subject go, but he dropped it for the moment in exchange for the chance to explore this impossible building.

As Ford disappeared around the corner, following Stan and Soos, the invisible presence that had caused the wind chuckled silently to itself.

"Well, well," it mused.  "This might be fun."

(A/N: THIS TOOK ME FIVE FREAKING HOURS BECAUSE I KEPT GETTING DISTRACTED SO Y'ALL HAD BETTER FREAKING LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!)