[The ocean of fire spreads, adopting different textures along the way as it swallows up the sky in its jagged maw. Pieces of the shack may have been the initial debris, but if Stan looks carefully now he'll notice the blackened ashes taking on a different shape underneath the rapidly growing embers: pieces of building, two-dimensional, geometrically perfect in nature and maybe for an instant... the shape of desperate outstretched claws.]

"FIGURED OUT HOW TO USE THAT OLE' NOGGIN ALREADY, HUH, FEZ?"

[And just like that Stanley is in Bill's line of sight. By all accounts, the triangle is merely standing there; levitation being far too superfluous a use of power for the moment, he watches the human's ascent carefully.]

"THEN AGAIN, I GUESS you'd have to be PRETTY IN-TUNE to your IMAGINATION TO THINK YOU EVEN S͞T͜A̴ND͘ ̷A ͝C̨HAN̛C͡E ̛R̸I̧GHT ́ŅOW."

[Stanley's looming stature causes a flicker of worry and Bill temporarily laments not making himself larger; the conflicting sensations of spending the past week as a squishy mortal must have corrupted his perception for what a proper size for himself should actually be. Never mind that, he could work with this. Bill 'grins' each syllable dripping with aggression.]

"SO HOW ABOUT you get back to DOING what you do BEST?"