Ford GT 24h Le Mans Documentary Hits on Amazon Prime
The Ford GT race car’s triumphant return to the 24 Hours of Le Mans and simultaneous development of the Ford GT supercar are highlighted in the new documentary, “The Return,” available now on Amazon Prime Video.
Director Erich Joiner brings audiences the behind-the-scenes view of the fiercely competitive struggle to get the new Ford GT race car ready to race at Le Mans in 2016 – 50 years after Ford’s historic 1-2-3 1966 win.
Gravity Falls Word Count: 2,376 Characters: Stanley Pines, Stanford Pines, Bill Cipher Pairings: None
Hurt/Comfort. Brotherly Love. Bill comes back as a portion of Stanley’s mind and tries
destroying his family. Ford and Stan have to deal with it together.
The sun was beating down brightly on the expanse of the
Mystery Shack. Nestled into the battered couch on the porch, pit cola in hand,
Stan watched as Dipper and Mabel hurled colorful balloons of water at one
another. As the two youths’ laughter filled the air, Stan couldn’t recall a day
where he had felt more at peace. Even despite the project looming in the
basement, and the mounting excitement from almost being able to bring Stanford
back, Stan relished this moment, not knowing if he’d have the luxury of such a
peace again. A wistful sigh escaped him as a hand clasped his shoulder.
Stan reflexively turned back to see who had disturbed his
moment, and nearly fell from the couch.
“STANFORD?! Y-you…!” Stan clamored, swiftly rising to a
stand to face him.
“Woah!” Ford chortled, putting his hands up. “Easy! I guess
I shouldn’t sneak up on you, huh.”
Stan blanched, his mind racing. The portal couldn’t have
already spit Stanford out could it have? That was impossible, he still had
hours before it would be ready to run! His mind was racing for any conceivable
of make sense of why his brother was standing in front of him when this visage
of his brother spoke.
“Stan? … Are you okay?” Ford said, concern washing over his
“How- How are you back?!” Stan choked out, a sharp pang in
the corner of his eyes.
“… Oh… Stanley, do you not remember?” Stanford wrung his
“… I’m sorry… Um… You saved me from the portal about three
weeks ago… However, you’ve had a bit of trouble with your memory lately… Could
you maybe tell me the latest things you do remember?”
Stan was reeling, this couldn’t be real. He remembered
today, today was not a day that Stanford was around, actually, as he recalled,
agents would be around the corner of the house to tackle him, and take his
precious niece and nephew away. In addition, later in this day, those same
agents would try breaking into the basement after his brother had emerged from
the portal and punched him square in the jaw. Stan rubbed his face absently,
trying to make sense of this predicament he had found himself in.
“Stanley?” Ford called again, ripping Stan away from his
internal thoughts, “We can work through this… Just try to remember the last
thing you’ve done outside today.”
Stan all at once couldn’t even recall how he’d gotten here.
He knew Dipper and Mabel of course, that the Shack was his business and where
he lived, his brothers old home, that the kids where here for the summer. But
he couldn’t recall the days around him. Which day it was, what yesterday had
held. Nothing. He felt his heart speed up. His breath hitched and suddenly
couldn’t get enough oxygen. His vision started to waver when he started to
sway, his knees about to buckle, he braced himself on the door frame. He heard
a vague sound from his brother, before everything stopped.
Stanley heard nothing as color drained from his vision, and
suddenly the world righted itself as his mind exploded into clarity. This was
the day he had brought Stanford home. The day that both of his great-niece and
nephew found out that ‘Stanford Pines’ was not the man they thought he was.
Stanford. He remembered the burns on his wrists, ankles, and neck. Screaming
after a demon to leave the younger twins alone. Switching places with his
brother. Preparing to never come back. Blue flames. A geometrical, one eyed,
yellow nightmare. A swift right hook.
Stanley looked around at the frozen scene before him and
tried make sense of it. “Am I… Dead?”, Stan muttered to himself. The silence
stretched on for a few more moments before he heard a sound that sent a tremble
up his spine. A sharp and shrill laughter broke over the area as a bright light
amassed itself into a triangular figure with one eye.
“OH I BET YOU WISH FEZ.” Bill cackled.
Stan’s veins turned to ice and fire all at once, his mind
crying for vengeance and peace.
Stan was almost positive he and his twin had prevailed over
this devil. However, if Stan himself had escaped total erasure from the
memory gun, it was sound reasoning to assume that Bill, a being with total
mastery of the mindscape might have been able to do that too. He and his
brother had still hoped that wasn’t the case, but when had they ever
been so lucky? After all, Stan should have been…gone.
Slowly circling Stan, the dream demon chuffed while coming
to a halt, hovering over Stanley’s shoulder.
“DON’T WORRY! ILL HELP YOU SHUFFLE OFF THAT PESKY MORTAL COIL!”
Stan snapped toward the triangular monster to face him, his
blood boiling. “Good luck with that pal, you off me, you off us both!”
Bill was quiet for a fraction of a second before he exploded
into laughter again.
“HAHAHAHA RIGHT! WELL! HOWS ABOUT THIS INSTEAD!” Bill rose
his hand dramatically and snapped as the entire scene transformed.
They were in the Shack this time, Stanford was in his
sweater and trench coat, idly sketching something in a notebook while the kids
were sprawled out next to him, asleep on the couch. Stanley observed his own
form, sleeping as well, nestled into the comfort of his chair. There were party
decorations still littering the house, and Mabel’s scrap book perched atop
Stan’s lap. Stan gazed on for a moment at the peaceful scene, remembering the
party, and how badly he had wished the kids could stay. Thinking of all this
peace, and what he had to protect, he snapped to Bill and hissed. “What do ya
think you’re doin?!”
Bill bellowed another harsh laugh, “OH WOW STANLEY, YOU’RE
DENSE…” Bill shook his form as though he was shaking his head, eye
narrowing menacingly. “YOU GOT IN MY WAY STAN PINES… TOOK AWAY WHAT I HAD… SO!
IM GOING TO RETURN THE FAVOR!!”
Launching himself at the still sleeping version of Stanley,
Bill disappeared into the body. Stanley watched in mute horror as his sleeping
self was roused, eyes snapping open to reveal horrible, yellow, cat like eyes.
Then, his blood ran cold as he heard that god awful laughter rip from his own
Stanford turned to “Stanley” and crooked his head. “Are you
okay?” Stanford said softly, with an expression to match.
“OF COURSE SIXER” The abomination of Bill and Stanley’s
combined form rose, discarding Mabel’s precious book lazily in the chair. “IM
DOING PERFECT ACTUALLY”
How could Ford not hear the unearthly tone to ‘his’ voice?
Stanley called his twins name, but his words went unheard.
Bill slowly walked over to Stanford before hovering behind
him, “SO! WHAT CHA WORKIN’ ON?” He leaned down awkwardly.
Stanford gave a concerned look, but shook the expression
from his face. “Um well!” he said smiling, “I’m sketching a route for when we
finally get out to sea… I believe we can take this route right here” Stanford
said pointing, “However Its not entirely complete.”
“Stanford! Listen to me!” Stan reached for a nearby remote ready
to wing it at his twin, however is hand phased right through the object.
Stanley’s form hummed as bill put a forearm on Stanford’s
head and leaned there.
“WELL…” Bill mumbled, before pausing for a moment.
“IT’S A SHAME YOU’LL NEVER FINISH IT…“
Swiftly dropping to his- or rather Stanley’s knees, the hand that was resting on Stanford’s head,
slammed down, gripping Ford tightly in a chokehold. Using his free hand to add
leverage to the attack, bill cranked down harder on Ford’s bandaged neck, a
deep sneer on his face.
“GAH” Ford choked. “St-a-n… Wh-a…”
Bill let loose another laugh from Stan’s mouth before
leaning into fords ear to speak, “GUESS AGAIN IQ…”
Ford’s eyes widened in horror as he thrashed even harder to
escape his clutches. “Wha-d you do- w-with HRRKKGGH”
Wrenching aggressively, Bill tightened down on Fords throat
to silence him.
“DON’T SWEAT OL STANLEY! HE SHOULD BE SOMEWHERE! YOU REALLY
AUGHT TO WORRY ABOUT YOURSELF SIXER!”
Clawing at the arm crushing his throat, Ford choked
breathless sputters of pain. Eyes watering from the intense pressure on his
charred throat, his struggles becoming more feeble.
“FORD!!” Stanley called. Launching himself at Bill, he tried
to grapple him. However, instead of making contact, he sailed through his
body’s occupied form, tumbling to the other side of the room.
“LEAVE HIM ALONE!!!” Stanley bellowed.
Stanley saw the grisly image of his own face turn to him and
contort into a grin, while his arms simultaneously cranked down around his
“HEH, SORRY STANLEY…- “. Bill spat, gleaming at Stan from
behind his own eyes.
Time slowed to a crawl. Stan couldn’t catch a breath; his
heart wrenched. His lungs constricting as though he could feel the lack of
oxygen his twin was suffering. Ford’s face twisted with airless agony.
“HOW ABOUT. WE GIVE OLD FORDSY. A BREAK- “
With a sharp twist, and a hand placed under Ford’s jaw, Bill
wrenched his arms sideways.
A loud audible snap echoed through the room as Stanford
Pine’s mute and distressed expression rested directly on Stanley as his
struggling ceased. His head limped to the side as his whole body went slack.
Stan felt everything end right there. The non-existent
stomach of his intangible form heaved. His vision faded, as the world halted.
He wanted to throw up, or die, or anything.
A soft thud drew his attention, his eyes wide with horror he reflexively
looked up from where his eyes had found the floor. Bill was now standing in
facing him, Stanford a heap on the floor. It barely got through, but a thought
surfaced. That damn demon had murdered his brother with HIS own hands… Then
discarded Ford on the ground. He… Didn’t even bother to set his body down
gently. His brothers body? His head swam again at the thought, as his
eyes and body fell. He wanted to scream, be violent, something. But he
couldn’t, he was rooted to the ground with the overwhelming loss emanating from
his core. He shook, as his ears registered that god awful howl ripping from
“his” throat again. Stan didn’t realize the tears rolling down the face of his
ethereal visage as he looked up yet again. He saw his own face smile and lean
down to him.
“AND JUST WAIT AND SEE WHAT I DO TO THOSE KIDS.”
Stanley shot up as a desperate cry ripped past his mouth
His body shook as his hands grasped for something to ground
him. The darkness swallowed him as he fell to the ground with a hard smack. He
heard a noise somewhere in the dark and jumped away from the sound.
“Stanley! Are you alright?!” A gravelly but familiar voice
called in the dark. Stan heard a small clamor before he felt hands clasp his
shoulders. He shied away from the contact but the person held fast.
“Stan!” He felt wide hands shake him gently. “C-can you tell
me what’s wrong?”
Stan discredited the gentle rock for his body’s own deep
quake. His eyes bleary swept the room before they rested on the vague figure in
front of him. Something warm brushed his cheek and his hand rose automatically.
He pulled his hand away from his face and looked down. Something wet coated his
“Stanley…?”, The voice whispered.
Stan wiped the moisture that had somehow accumulated in his
eyes away, blinking a few times he tried to focus.
Suddenly he felt the weight lift from his shoulders and
heard a shuffle before a dim light washed over the room, Stan hissed as the
light flooded his eyes. Before he had time to complain, a gentle hand braced
his shoulder before adjusting a pair of glasses over his face.
His vision righted and he saw his brother with an expression
of deep worry furrowing his brow. Before Stan could speak, Ford probed.
“Do… Do you remember where you are?”
Stan observed the cabin of the boat that they had been
bunking in for the past few weeks. The memories broke past the pounding in his
head, and hammering in his chest; he was with his brother out at sea. After the
kids had gone home, they had cleaned up the damage from that business with the
sky vomiting nightmares; after he took down that d-
At that everything came crashing back down on him.
The vivid image of the Shack.
Sunshine, and laughter.
The peace of the living room.
Nerd books, and sleeping children.
The snap of Fords neck under his own muscular arms.
Shrill terrible laughter.
He lunged at his brother and dug his hands into the back of Ford’s shirt; His
hands clamoring for purchase. A choked sob left Stan’s throat as he pulled Ford in tightly, his whole body wracked with tremors. Ford drew in a sharp breath
from the sudden embrace.
“Hey…”, the old scientist managed.
Quiet and muffled, a pathetic sound came from the trembling
“…J-jus… a… sec.”
A second of silence slipped past before Ford gently wrapped
his arms around his brothers shuddering form, pulling him in easily.
Stan didn’t know how long he had sat on the cabins dimly lit
floor clinging to his twin. Listening to the rhythmic sound of breath leaving
his brother had grounded him, assuring him that Ford was most definitely alive,
and right beside him. Finally calmed of his tremors, his breathing even, Stan
pulled away from Ford and looked to him intently. Ford’s face clearly displayed
the confusion and worry mounting in his mind. Stan looked to him, and spoke
“Sixer… I think we gotta talk about somethin’…”
Ford gave him an inquiringly owlish look before he asked
Stan choked back a rising lump in his throat. The thought of
his dreams becoming reality sparking terror to mount in his mind.
“I- I think… Bill may still be… around.”
Ford’s eyes grew wide in shock, before his expression fell.
His body trembling, he pulled Stan in.
It was Ford’s turn to cling to his brother and not let go.
Yes! I’m finally done! Posting this before I destroy it by over editing. Let me know what you think! Comments,
and pointers are always welcome!
Also! Thank you to @villyre and to my resident sister for
helping me smooth this out a little! I probably wouldn’t have gotten this out
here had it not been for you guys!
“The Model 18 was the first low-priced, mass-marketed car to have a V8
engine, an important milestone in American automotive history.”
From Wikipedia: The Model B, Model 18 &
Model 40 are Ford cars and light trucks produced between 1932 and 1934.
They succeeded the Model A. The Model B continued to offer Ford’s proven
four cylinder and was available from 1932 to 1934. The V8 (Model 18 in
1932, Model 40 in 1933 & 1934) was succeeded by the Model 48. In
Europe, it was built slightly longer. The same bodies were available on
both 4 cylinder Model Bs and V8 Model 18/40s. Rather than just a much
updated version of the Model A, Ford launched a completely new model for
1932. The V-8 was marketed as the Model 18 in its initial year, and
commonly simply called the Ford V‑8. It had the new flathead V‑8 engine.
The Model 18 was the first low-priced, mass-marketed car to have a V8
engine, an important milestone in American automotive history.
so a while backin a skype conversation with me @aromantic-eight proposed the (frankly excellent) headcanon that fiddleford, seeming to be slightly older than stanford, could easily have first met him in a college environment as ford’s floor RA. and that ford, disaster-prone as he is, would probably have been That One Student that ended up knocking on the RA’s door with an emergency in the first month of classes (it was also heavily discussed with @wanime, whose ideas made it very prominently into this fic)
this headcanon directly contradicts multiple fics i have written prior to it and i love it dearly
How many scenarios do I have in my head about the finale that will never happen? Too many. But here’s another one.
Bill is being sucked back into the rift, along with everything else from Weirdmegeddon. At the last moment, his hands become tendrils, and he lashes them out towards Ford. “I’M TAKING YOU WITH ME SIX FINGERS! WE’LL BE FRIENDS UNTIL THE E N D O F T I ME!” Stan sees what’s about to happen and shoves Ford out of the way. The tendrils catch him around his leg and begin to drag him toward the rift. Ford launches himself forward, and grabs Stan’s arm, his other hand latches onto a branch from a pine tree. Ford is using all his might to keep Bill from pulling Stan into the rift and Stan could see it’s hurting him. “Poindexter! You have to let go or both of us will be pulled in!” “Don’t be stupid, Stanley!”
Ford’s hand is slowly slipping off the branch, no matter how hard he tries to hold onto it. “Let GO Ford!” “It’s either the branch, or you, and I’m not letting go of you, ya knucklehead! ” Just when he’s about to loose his grip, somebody else grabs his arm. Then another person. He looks up to see Mabel and Dipper grabbing his arm. Mabel is holding her grappling hook in her other hand, and the rest of the resistance fighters are pulling it. Dipper is shouting orders at them to heave Ford and Stanley back. Then the rift closes and they all tumble onto the ground in a giant heap. Mabel and Dipper immediately tackle their grunkles in a giant hug, and Ford pulls Stanley into the group hug. “You… you scared me so badly, Stanley.” Then he gives him a playful punch in the arm. “Don’t ever do something like that again!” “Heh, well I’m not exactly planning to be sucked into any more inter dimensional rifts anytime soon.”