Chapter Text
How could this have happened.
Bill had spent so long on this. He had everything planned out, making sure every detail was correct, and somehow he still managed to do this. What good did this flesh puppet do if it was this small and noodle-y? Did all humans have to be this useless for the start of their existence?
A kid. Bill Cipher, all-knowing dream demon, had made his human body a kid. Learning to operate this thing would be bad enough, but if he was the same age as Pine Tree and Shooting Star, he would have to deal with that human ritual into adulthood. What was it? Puberty? Maybe, he thought, making this body exactly like a human's wasn't the best idea. Especially if I have to sleep. How can I give these puny worthless slobs the nightmares they deserve if I'm the one who has to be unconscious?
He had been planning to confront the Pines twins, surprise (and hopefully scare) them a little, and pop out to leave them worrying without a clue as to what he was doing. But this body? He couldn't be half as intimidating as he wanted, not to mention the fact that he couldn't blend into the Gravity Falls community by getting a job like he had planned to.
Sighing, and running a hand through his hair (why is it so long? It can't look good like this), he picked himself up off of the forest floor and brushed some of the dirt on his clothes off. When he looked down at the pants he was wearing, he noticed that the legs were about a foot too long for him, and that his button-up shirt was hanging down past his hips. At least I got these right. Not right for this body, but if everything went like it was supposed to, absolutely great. Ugh. He leaned down to roll his pants up, grunting in frustration when they kept coming unrolled due to both the slick, soft fabric and the fact the dress pants could fit about five of Bill's small legs inside one leg of them.
Grabbing the fabric near his thighs and pulling it up (as if I was wearing a fucking ball gown), he started to make his way out of the forest.
***
Bam! This was the third root that Bill had tripped over, and he was about to give up for the day and just sit where he had fallen for the rest of his life. He looked up, though, and a surge of hope shot through him when he saw the shack he was looking for in the distance.
Bill stumbled to his feet and hurriedly made his way out of the forest, rejoicing when he felt the soft grass without any of the large branches or rocks.
Bill felt tired enough to crawl up the steps to the Mystery Shack, but the one thing that remained normal in this body was his pride, so he grabbed the recently added railing (Stan had received complaints, and he also found himself needing it from time to time, though he would never admit that; Bill knew) and climbed up the steps.