####

Ford and Dipper weren't quite panicking by the time they got home, but Ford was walking fast enough that Dipper nearly had to jog to keep up—which Ford felt bad about, but he could hardly slow down under such dire circumstances. He paused for a half second at the sight of the new sign propped up in front of the gift shop—"Come see the amazing egg-laying pig!"—then shook his head and hurried onward to the back door. Of course. That was probably Stan's work. He'd be disappoint to lose his new money-maker, but he'd probably be just as satisfied with an "egg" made by pasting papier-mâché on a balloon, so Ford wasn't concerned about him.

But the house was eerily quiet when he and Dipper came in. "Stanley? Mabel?" Ford called. "Bill?"

"Where is everyone?" Dipper asked.

"Everyone else is out," Abuelita said. They found her in the living room, sitting in a corner where the couch had been shoved to make room for a curtain around Waddles's nest.

"Out? Where?" Dipper asked.

"To watch the egg hatch," Abuelita said.

Ford gasped. "What? Already?!"

She nodded sympathetically. "Children grow so fast these days," she said. "I did not go. I am old and tired. I will find out what was in the egg when they get home."

"If they get home," Dipper said. "Where are they?"

"Town hall."

Ford turned toward the door, and was thrown off when Dipper bolted upstairs. "Dipper?!"

"I'm getting supplies! I'll be right back!"

He'd better be fast. At least Ford could use this opportunity to get a little more intel.  "When do they expect the egg to hatch?"

"Mr. Cipher said it will be around seven o'clock."

Seven o'clock. That didn't leave much time. If they left right now they'd barely arrive in time to stop it—assuming it didn't hatch any sooner than Bill had predicted. (Bill. Of course he knew when it would hatch. He might have been the one to trick them into heating up the egg.) "Mrs. Ramirez, listen—you must call Soos to warn him! There's a monster in that egg, and everyone in town hall is in grave danger!"

"Oh?" Abuelita said. "Okay."

"Got it!" Dipper charged back downstairs with his backpack hanging from one shoulder, shoving several spare tapes for his camera in around Mabel's grappling hook. Smart choice, you never knew when you'd need a grappling hook. "Let's go!"

As they left, Ford called to Abuelita, "Hurry! There's no time to waste!" That was his last farewell before slamming the door.

Abuelita looked back at her romance novel and finished reading the page.

She looked around for the expired grocery store coupon she'd been using as a bookmark. When she couldn't find it, she carefully wedged half of the open book between the couch cushions to keep her place.

She stood, and slowly tottered toward the office, taking special care with the step up from the living room to the entryway. This old shack really had far too many unnecessary stair steps.

She let herself into Soos's office, rummaged through his desk drawer for the paper with his and Melody's cell phone numbers in case of emergency, and when she couldn't find it, she slowly searched the other drawer. She found the paper, pulled it out, smoothed it flat on the desk, and eased herself down into Soos's office chair to give her aching knees a break. She studied the paper closely as she dialed Soos's digits one by one.

She sat back placidly as the phone rang.

####

"Wow, this came together fast," Melody said appreciatively.

So far, half of town hall's auditorium was full, but the closer they got to seven, the faster guests seemed to be coming in. In the back of the auditorium, Melody was helping set up Soos's electric piano and Wendy was adjusting a microphone so she could speak into it without having to stand up.

The town map at the front of the room had been covered by a black bed sheet decorated with construction paper planets. Star-shaped fairy lights were strung across the backdrop. Mabel and Waddles were wearing matching shiny silver robes, metallic rainbow capes, and neon green mirrored sunglasses shaped like giant alien bug eyes.

Sitting in front of them, a low wooden box had been converted into a plinth for the not-yet-present egg. Mabel stood with her back straight, feet parted, and hands clasped like a secret service agent. Waddles, on the other hand, was pacing back and forth behind the box. For all the world, he looked like a nervous father-to-be pacing outside the delivery room as he waited to hear how his wife and baby were doing. Whenever Waddles waddled past, Mabel snuck out a hand to pat his head, keeping him calm.

"Oh yeah, Mabel's a crafting expert," Wendy said. "Last summer she made a whole sock puppet musical with fireworks in like half a week."

"Fireworks?"

"There's a whole illegal stash in the shack. I'll show you at work."

Melody laughed, "Please tell me you have a recording of the show."

"Stan did, but they might've burned the tapes. It was kinda a disaster," Wendy said. "Not Mabel's fault! The show was super impressive. But she and Dipper started fighting in the middle and it sorta ruined the thing. It looked like he was mad she'd taken his journal as a prop, and he'd been super sleep deprived for days so we thought he'd started hallucinating he was a god? But then it turned out he was just possessed." She shrugged.

Melody had been nodding along in wide-eyed shock, but paused at that. "Whaaat was possessing him?" Like she didn't know.

Bill clapped his hands on Melody's and Wendy's shoulders from behind, making them both jump, and leaned between them. "Ladies! I feel like someone's talking about me! What's going on?"

"We were discussing that time Dipper got possessed last summer?" Melody said, raising a brow.

Bill nearly took enthusiastic credit, remembered Wendy was still the one human in the house who didn't know who he was, and said, "Nope! Wasn't about me after all. But—" he "adjusted" his eye patch so he could flash Melody a wink without Wendy seeing, "I think I might know the triangle who did it."

Melody rolled her eyes.

"I'm just glad he's not a problem this year," Wendy said. "Mabel put on a brave face about the whole thing after it got ruined—you know, acting like she shouldn't have 'taken that much time' to herself and her project when Dipper wanted to do something, acting like it was her fault he got possessed, saying it was more important he was safe—blah blah, sister stuff—but she worked crazy hard on that show! I know she was majorly bummed..." Wendy winced and gave Bill a dirty look. "Ow. Dude, let go."

Bill quickly let go of Wendy and Melody's shoulders. "Sorry! Sorry. Got a little too friendly there." He laced his fingers and stretched his arms over his head, trying to look casual. "Well, like you said. She's got nothing to worry about this year."

Not because the demon was gone; but because the local patron god of teen parties and chaos was watching over her.

He looked up at his laced hands and saw the light glint off his friendship bracelet's evil eye beads.

"Oh, I actually came over here for a reason. If you'll excuse me—" He leaned between Melody and Wendy, grabbed up the microphone, and said, "Ladies and gentlemen! The miracle egg will hatch in fifteen minutes! Please make your way to your seats for our pre-hatching show!"

At their cue, Stan and Soos emerged from the door to the right of the front stage, carrying a shining silver pillow between them with the egg on top. At Mabel's insistence, they were both wearing black suits, capes, and sunglasses. Bill had persuaded Mabel to persuade Stan that coloring in his normal glasses with black marker was the best way to make free sunglasses, and he stumbled on the step up to the stage. Bill bit back a laugh. Mabel and Waddles nearly bolted over to catch the egg, but he righted himself, and he and Soos carefully set the egg down. Soos had to help lead Stan off the stage by the arm.

"Dude, we almost had scrambled eggs," Wendy whispered. (Melody shushed her, laughing.) "Okay, when do we start our part?

"Once Mabel gives the signal," Melody said.

They all looked at the stage. Waddles was tenderly sniffing his egg, but Mabel had disappeared.

"Huh," Melody said. "I guess when she's back."

"Guess so," Wendy said.

Except she wasn't supposed to have left. Bill scanned the future. That egg was hatching in fifteen minutes tops whether Mabel was there or not, and he didn't like the increasing number of timelines where she was not.

"'Scuse me," he said, edging away from the special effects crew. He hurried to the front of the auditorium, kicked the door to the right of the stage until Soos got the hint and opened it, and went searching for Mabel.

####

Mabel had retreated down the hallway to the meeting room they'd claimed as their backstage/dressing room; when Bill found her, she was focused so intently on a handful of notebook pages—the final iteration of her story about the egg's history—that she didn't even lift her head as he came in.

Which was concerning. He was pretty sure she'd only written that script for everyone else's benefit. There was no way she needed to review it. "Hey, kid."

She started. "Bill! Don't sneak up on me!"

"I'm fluorescent yellow. If you missed me, that's on you." He sat on the meeting table by Mabel. "It's almost go time, what are you doing back here?" He pointed at her script. "I know you've got that memorized."

"I know, but—what if I get it wrong!" she asked. "What if you guessed the time wrong or I talk at the wrong speed! What if I still have a minute of my speech left when the egg starts hatching! Or, worse, what if I say it's gonna hatch right now and then it doesn't and they all just stare at it and I look stupid!" She buried her face behind her script. "Auuugh!"

"Relax, you'll do fine" Bill said. "I told you when it'll hatch, you can see a clock from the stage, just keep your eye on it and talk a little faster or slower to make sure you end on time. And even if you're off by a few seconds, getting it almost right will still impress everyone."

She still looked dubious. What else could Bill offer? Humans loved a strategic show of vulnerability—and she'd already offered him some earlier today. And he trusted her to keep it to herself. He combed through his long history for the least-humiliating humiliating memory he could find. "Hey, I'll tell you an embarrassing story if you promise not to tell anyone else."

Her face lit up. Yeah, just like Bill thought—who could turn down an offer like that? "Promise!"

"Alright! So, I wasn't always able to see the future. When I was your age, I used to only be able to see higher dimensions beyond any means of mortal perception! Yawn, right? Anyway—remember how I said that in my dimension, eclipses were caused by an axolotl flying in front of the sun?"

(She nodded excitedly—yeah, of course she remembered.)

"Well, no one could see the axolotl but me, since it was up in the third dimension. So one time, I tried to predict an eclipse, since I was the only one that could see when it was about to cross. I got a big crowd gathered, watched the sky, waited until the axolotl was riiight next to the sun, and shouted 'now!'" He dragged out the dramatic pause while Mabel watched him with bated breath. "And then the axolotl did a loop around the sun and missed it entirely. No eclipse at all!"

Mabel squealed in laughter. "Nooo, Biiill! That's so bad!"

"It was! I was mortified with a capital M-O-R-T," Bill said. "That—that's Latin for 'death.' I nearly died of embarrassment."

He couldn't recall the last time he'd shared that story. He couldn't recall whether he ever had shared that story before. Surely he have—someone, sometime, must have known, right?—but he couldn't remember the telling of it, and he couldn't remember who he'd told.

He remembered the hurt and humiliation of that day had been a sharp, cutting thing; but telling it now, the pain was so old that it felt duller than the back side of a plastic knife. It surprised him.

Mabel said, "And you learned an important life lesson about how nobody is perfect and a little mistake isn't the end of the world, right?"

Bill laughed. "No way! It was the worst thing that ever happened to me—and to put that into context, I was halfway to being an orphan at that point! I wanted to turn my body inside out and die on the spot! Plus, I'd bet actual money on predicting the eclipse! This stupid manbaby of a salamander was gonna financially ruin me!"

Mabel winced. "You're not very good at pep talks."

"I'm not done," Bill said. "Anyway, I was so mad that I yelled at the axolotl to come fight me. And it actually heard me and looped back to see what the fuss was. Bam! There was the eclipse I promised! So now, nobody thought I'd predicted the eclipse—they thought I'd caused it." He shrugged, "Which I guess I did! Suddenly I was the coolest triangle in the world."

He put a hand on Mabel's shoulder. "So, here's my lesson: if you finish your speech and announce that egg's hatching right now, and it doesn't? Wait it out until it's been juuust long enough to get a little awkward, then tell that egg to hatch. Even if you ended your speech too early, you can't be off by more than thirty seconds! The audience will think it's part of the show! They won't go 'aww, she was off,' they'll go 'wow! she was really building the suspense!'"

Mabel looked thoughtful; but said, "Are you sure? The last time I messed up a show and thought everyone would think it was planned, everyone booed me."

Was that why she was so nervous all the sudden? "Sure I'm sure! And I'll give you three reasons why. One: I've pulled this trick myself, remember? It's 100% guaranteed to work. Two: once everyone sees what's in that egg, they won't even remember if you flubbed a line or were off a few seconds. The thing under that shell is cool enough to make up for anything." He pointed at himself. "And three: the guy who sabotaged your last show is on your side this time! I'll be in the audience watching with the losers from the shack! I'll see when the egg's about to hatch! Just keep an eye on me, I'll give you a countdown when it's about to happen." That had better be good enough. There was a weird feeling forming in Bill's stomach when he thought about Mabel being nervous about the show because of him, and he wanted it to go away.

She sighed in relief. (Quietly, he did too.) "Thanks, Bill." She gave him a tight hug. He'd been getting a lot of those lately. Either Mabel was feeling particularly cuddly or he was doing a better job at earning them.

He'd like to imagine he deserved them. "Any time." He returned the hug. "Knock 'em dead, star girl."

####

As Bill slid into his seat near the special effects crew—Melody, Wendy, and now Soos—Wendy asked, "Hey, is everything cool?"

"Sure! Just some pre-show jitters," Bill said. "I told her a story ten times more embarrassing than anything she could possibly do, she's fine now."

She nodded, satisfied. "You're pretty nice to her," she observed. "It's sweet, watching an adult take a kid they aren't even related to seriously." Bill was still deciding whether he felt complimented by being called sweet when she added, "Especially after everything she went through last summer."

No pumping up Bill's ego today, apparently. "Yeah, thanks," he said halfheartedly. "It's got nothing to do with last summer, but. Thanks."

Wendy elbowed him. "So how come you're such a big jerk to Dipper?"

"Because he's not as cool as Mabel!"

The lights dimmed and two spotlights turned on, illuminating Mabel, Waddles, and the egg. Mabel solemnly raised her hands in acknowledgment of the audience, who applauded. Wendy whispered, "That's our cue," sat up straighter, and pulled the microphone closer.

On the piano, Soos played the opening chord—he'd learned three entire chords for this performance—and Mabel said, "Long ago, an ancient prophecy foretold that a magical child from the stars would be raised by an earthling. But not just any earthling! According to the prophecy, only one earthling was brave, beautiful, and loving enough to raise this child of the stars." She paused dramatically. "The pig... of destiny."

Wendy leaned into her microphone and whispered, "Destinyyy..."

The audience leaned closer to the stage.

Soos flinched as his pants vibrated. He yanked out his phone, checked the caller ID, and whispered, "It's the shack! Abuelita's home alone, it could be an emergency. Can you take over?"

Melody nodded and slid behind the piano. Soos scooted to the end of the bench and quietly snuck outside.

####

"Soos, mijo, there you are. How are the preparations for the show? Good?" Abuelita nodded. "Did you remember to get dinner on the way?" She nodded again in satisfaction. "I have to warn you about something, mijo. It seems Dr. Pines and Dipper have gotten some crazy idea in their heads about the egg. Now they are all in a tizzy about it. So look out for them to arrive and calm them down when they get there, okay? Maybe make them hot drinks." After a thoughtful pause, she said, "But nothing caffeinated. They do not need the caffeine."

####

Something about the show was making Bill nervous.

Nothing is ever guaranteed. Whenever he looked at the future, he usually saw dozens, if not hundreds or thousands, of overlapping future timelines. He predicted the future based on which possibilities were so overwhelmingly frequent that they all but blotted out all other possibilities.

If someone rolled a die, Bill would guess it would land on 5 if that was true in 90% of timelines—and sure, rolling a dice was theoreitcally random, but what wasn't random was the positions of your fingers and the position of the die in your hand on this particular roll, and how the die landed depended on how the die was cast, so once the die was in hand there usually was a 90% chance it would ultimately land on a particular side—but he could still faintly see the 10% of timelines where it landed on 1 or 2 or 3 or 4 or 6 because the roller had let go of the die a fraction of a second sooner, or a single muscle in a single finger twitched a little tighter or looser than it had in other timelines; and beyond that, if he focused, he could very faintly see the less-than-1% of timelines where the roller accidentally tossed the die off the table, or the die bounced it into someone else's mouth and choked them to death, or an eagle dove in through the window and snatched up the die and flew away, or physics spontaneously reversed and the die fell onto the ceiling, followed shortly by all the furniture and players.

All of which was to say:

Of course, Bill saw that there were timelines where Mabel's performance went poorly. A timeline where she tripped on her cape and fell on the egg, a timeline where Soos's hastily-assembled sound-and-light setup caught fire, a timeline where one of town hall's ghost bears possessed Mayor Tyler and drove him to steal the egg and flee into the street. The best Bill could do in any situation was make sure that he saw the outcome he wanted in most timelines, and then focus hard on those futures and what he needed to do to stay on track toward one of them.

(The only downside—a downside he'd never acknowledged before and wasn't about to start acknowledging today—was that focusing so hard only on the futures he wanted made it too easy to overlook the timelines where things didn't go to plan—and to overlook the factors that might cause him to trip and stumble sideways into one of those timelines.)

But even with his habit of aggressively focusing on the positive, he couldn't help but notice that the future where Mabel's performance concluded triumphantly right before the egg hatched was fading—and he didn't much like the future that was growing clearer in its place.

He slid out of his seat to gently knock on the door where Soos had gone outside.

When Soos opened the door, Bill murmured, "What's going on?"

"Aw, dude. It's bad news," he said. "It sounds like Ford and Dipper are coming, and they're not happy about the show. Dunno why yet." Soos was scanning the street in front of Town Hall. "I'm gonna talk to them when they get here."

Bill scanned the street as well—left and right, past and future. Soos was too late. Bill could see, a couple minutes before Soos had gone outside to take the call, Ford and Dipper coming up the sidewalk and then circling behind town hall. They must have been heading toward the back door. Bill's jaw tightened.

Soos could stay out here searching for a looming threat that had already passed him by. Bill, meanwhile, headed inside, slid through the door leading backstage that had been left ajar, and stalked toward the back door.

####

(Mabel's and Waddles's silver costume with the rainbow cape is inspired by one of the many costumes of Ruth Norman, a.k.a. Uriel, a.a.k.a. the best dressed leader of a UFO cult in history.