ChromiumHater

Dipper rummaged around in the bins beneath Ford’s desk frantically. He wasn’t sure where Ford would keep memorabilia—or if he was the kind of guy who kept things at all. Sure, they were related and pretty similar in some regards, but Dipper was a packrat and Ford seemed the type of guy who kept things in line. 

Would it really kill him to use labels? Or a color code at the very least? Come on man…

Finally, Dipper found what he was looking for. The thing was in better shape than Dipper would have expected after rotting in a box for 30 years—and hopping throughout the multiverse in a state of constant peril. He turned it over quickly in his hands and pressed the little worn down button on the side of the mechanical device. 

Click

whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

“Day 116 in the Nightmare Realm…”

“You said my name?” Bill said somberly

Two chances had apparently been too many.