“Not. A. Word,” Bill grits out, grasping a small broom tight enough to make the wooden handle creak.

He’s dressed in a little Mystery Shack t-shirt, standing on the floor instead of floating around. The change in angle makes him seem much smaller.

After his (frankly, humiliating) defeat at the hands of Stanley Pines, he called upon the Axolotl to save him. They accepted, under the condition of him getting the intergalactic equivalent of therapy. Part of that program is learning empathy.

So, here he is, powerless, working in the very Mystery Shack he vowed to destroy. Everyone seems way too smug about it.