"Fordsy! I'm so glad to have you for tea, just like the old days. Well, not exactly the same."
Bill snickers, using the little golden statue to stir the sugar in his cup.
"It's better you're gold," he goes on. "I'm not so keen on having all the bodily fluids you so abundantly produced in my presence in my tea. I'm sure you enjoy it too."
He waves the statue, tries to imitate the human's voice. "Oh yes, I love tea, like the nerd I am. And I'd do anything for you, Bill, even mixing your varied drinks."
"You know what I'd love even more, Sixer? If you got on your knees to kiss my feet. - I can't," he continues, in the voice of a particularly obstinate primate, "I'm gold, and if I bowed down, I'd look like I was doing push-ups. - I would forgive you this." Bill throws the statue down on its belly, inserts his foot in its open mouth. "If I followed the absurd human customs," he says, "I'd take a picture for my collection. Then I'd take another, of us in front of a nice sunset! And one with you in a nice dress. Wouldn't it be charming? I could even stick them up everywhere in town."
Bill kicks the statue up; it swirls a few times before falling in his hand. He didn't aim especially well, but he controls gravity. It helps a little. Even if, of course, one has to be exceptional to handle it well.
"You bore me, Sixer," he threatens. "And you know what happens to things that bore me... no of course you don't know, not yet! I have to tell you all the bad jokes I couldn't make while we were hanging out, because I had to gain your trust. When you told me you studied the theory of evolution, I wanted so much to turn you into an animal, just because! And when unicorns said you were a bad person, I considered eating you in front of them to prove them wrong. It would have been hilarious, and it wouldn't even hurt you that much."
"You should have. I'd have loved that," says the statue.
"Maybe, maybe," Bill says, smiling leniently. "You loved a lot of things, I remember. Not sure, though, because the unicorns were wrong. You are a good person. I just had to pretend."
"And you were so good at it."
"Wasn’t I? And it was worth it. No one ever belonged to me as much as you, IQ. I was everything you adored. I was your whole world."
There's a silence, and Bill presses against the statue so hard that the gold seems to distort.
"Why did you stop?"
Ford still doesn't reply, which is predictable since he is, of course, a statue. Predictable, therefore boring. Bill'd turn the person at fault into a hairy frog, except for the tiny detail that it's himself. Or Ford. Anyway, someone he wants to keep.
"I only wanted your devotion and your obedience," he continues. "I never asked for you to fall in love with me. That was your idea. I wanted you on your knees, but I didn't know you'd shiver in need for my touch. You’re the one who wanted to adore me, to kiss me, to offer me your heart, to let me consume you. But I liked it, oh, yes..."
"Not as much as I did," the statue says, but it sounds wrong. Bill is displeased.
"Why did you love me in the first place, and above all, why did you change your mind? - I thought you loved change, chaos god. - Then why can't you change and love me again? - I'll die before I join you. - Hey, how did you get so sour, you're a doll!"
Bill throws the statue to the floor, and obstinately looks elsewhere. He has a body, so he can not look at him. For at least one minute! The he sighs and makes it fly to him again, because he feels like he's being ignored, rather than ignoring him.
He didn't petrify Fordsy to leave him be, after all! He turns his eye into a mouth and starts chewing on the statue. It tastes like tea. Damn all logic and coherency. He changes it into a taste of strawberries, baby eyes, and regrets.
"You left me all alone," Bill still grumbles. "You wanted to be a good person, didn't you? But you lied to me, you didn't keep your word. You swore you would be mine. Until the end of time, Sixer!"
"You're the one who left me," says the insidious voice of the little statue.
Bill pulls him off his mouth to glare at him.
"Certainly not! Yeah, I betrayed you and manipulated you, and I told you because it was funny, but if you asked... asked very nicely that we'd stay together despite everything, I'd certainly have agreed! You still loved me then, why not ask?"
"You did everything to end it," the statue replies, and Bill is really unhappy, this time.
"When I told you the truth, you were clever, but weak and desperate. Too good for humans, maybe, but not enough for me. I made you what you are! I made you better, stronger. Everything you became is entirely thanks to me, can't you be grateful? I love you so much more when you're trying to kill me, why can't it be the same for you? Before falling in that portal, you wanted to destroy me, because you're a good person, but your heart was still mine. It’s been, what, thirty years? Who has a change of heart in only thirty years?"
Making the statue talk is no longer an option. Bill won't lend his voice to anyone anymore.
"All this chat is stupid. Do you think you can exist without me? You'll never have what we had with anyone. No one will ever be your equal, except for me. No human will ever understand you the way I understood your ideas, your emotions, your desires; and if they knew the'd run away, because they find monstrous everything appealing in you. No human could ever take everything you love to give so much, play with your body and your soul, make you happy the way I made you happy, hurt you the way I hurt you. And nobody will want you like I want you now."
His creaking voice echoes in the room. "You don't leave me any choice, Sixer. I'll torture you until you bow before me again, until you beg, until you remember what it means to belong to me! And you'll end up loving me again, I promise!"
He rejoices enough for the statuette to promise. "It will happen in the end, even if I don't like it one bit."
Bill briefly thinks about making him flesh again, to begin right now. But the real Ford could turn out not so sweet as his toy ended up being. Besides, he has all the time in the world and more. If he waits long enough, all the humans Ford dares to love will foolishly die, and it will be all the more easy.
From the depths of space-time behind his eye, he summons a black and prehensile tongue, licks Ford's face, his body, marks him with his saliva. The human's raised hands look like a pitiful attempt to stop him. Then he squeezes the statue against his body, just below the eye, mocking human tenderness. He's a little sorry Ford can't feel anything.
"I'm sorrier than you," he makes the statue say, just to feel better about it.