Dippy Fresh

742 7 4
                                    

A/N: The title sums it up; this story is about Dippy Fresh. Warning: it mentions death, so if this bothers you I suggest you not read this.

He never asked to be made. He didn't want to be brought into this miserable bubble on Mabel's accord. Now he was paraded about in Mabelland, loved by all the townspeople with a love so vapid it was sickening. No one in Mabelland truly loved Dippy Fresh. His lack of love made him a being of pure malevolence, much like Bill Cipher, his true creator. But it was the obligation to being supportive and positive that masked it. He was supposed to support his creator, to serve as a satisfying duplicate of Dipper Pines, her true brother. So he did just that. He performed, like a freak at a circus, riding about on his skateboard, wearing his hat backwards and making sure he punctuated every third sentence with a high five. The figments of Mabel's imagination all loved him with a shallow, shallow admiration that could be eradicated immediately. It sickened him, living this way. It wasn't long until he was dubbed the town darling. The love became no deeper than it already was. He wanted to be nothing more than imagination, to no longer have a physical vessel.

His wish was granted, blissfully so on the final day of his week-long life. Mabel had commanded him into the room where she took office. She was indirectly commanding him to be a comfort, to be the person who would elude her from reality's cruel grasp. So he played along, like the town darling he was made out to be. He rolled in there with his skateboard, did a small trick with his hat, and said some catchphrase he'd used to his fullest extent, but didn't matter to the townspeople. Mabel among others were thoroughly impressed with it, but Dipper was not. He expressed a discontent toward Dippy Fresh almost immediately. Dippy Fresh, realizing the true hatred in him, fed off this. He fed off it and felt true happiness for the first time. The figment of Mabel's imagination wanted Dipper to keep going, to keep vilifying him. So he made him madder. The response was beautifully timed, and the joy of it grew bigger and bigger. He was stolen from his only ray of hateful sunshine when Dipper was taken to court.

He travelled to the court via skateboard, anticipation growing inside of him. Dippy Fresh ached to see Dipper again. He longed to hear his counterpart hate him with a passion. So he entered the back door, and was called out by the judge, the one who had dubbed him town darling. He saw Dipper, and almost immediately made him seethe with hatred. His statement of said hatred touched him and made him all the more gleeful. He sat idly as Dipper made his case in support of reality. The awkward sibling hug granted Dippy Fresh his most prominent wish- to not be real. He slipped off the mask comfortably as did the others around him. It turns out they were creatures of pure hatred as well. He chased them with pleasure, and it was when Mabel popped the bubble that he died. In the last fleeting moments Dippy Fresh was alive, he silently thanked Dipper and Mabel for hating him and eradicating him from existence.

 Oneshots- Book 1Where stories live. Discover now