Back when he’d first started at the Mystery Shack, he’d thought it was a joke. He’d lost everything—his wife, his partner in science—and playing the part of some kooky mascot for Stan’s little roadside scam had seemed like a complete farce. But then… it started working. Somehow, the simple life, the routine, and even the ridiculous customers, had given him a sense of stability he hadn’t had in decades.

And Stan. Oh, Stan. Fiddleford never thought he’d find companionship again, not after all that had been taken from him. But Stan had been persistent in his own gruff way, and over the years, they'd built something solid. Domestic bliss, even. They'd faced down the world together, and now, they were thirty years strong, practically married in all but name.

Or at least, it had been.

Everything had changed when they’d executed the original plan—when they finally pulled Stanford back from the multidimensional portal. Bringing him home had been Stan’s dream for years, and Fiddleford had supported him in it, believing that it was the right thing to do. But ever since Stanford’s return, the dynamics had shifted, and not in a good way.

Now, he was back. And with him came all the old wounds and insecurities. Stanley was first to crack, clouded by jealousy of a relationship long faded between Fiddleford and Stanford. The other wasn't too receptive either, rather disgusted by the sham that was created out of his cabin.

And in the middle of these trenches stood Fiddleford. Out on the porch he smoked away, the doors to the cabin creek open and by his side joins Stanford... Well, this was awkward.