#bingiplier

Bing !!!

Call me

Host! Ft a doodle.

Bot boy summer ‼️

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_{((Titled after House Flipper because this idea came to me while watching Seán’s old vids of it.))}

When Dark’s cousin returns to Iplier Manor, he brings back more than luggage: he brings BAGGAGE.

Completely unprepared for an influx of children—especially FIVEOF THEM—Dark quickly finds that he’s not only running out of room for his extended family but also running out of patience as Yani, Babi, Annus, Heist, and Space (a.k.a.: Dadi’s kids) not only cause a ruckus but actually DESTROY Iplier Manor, too (somehow even one-upping his husband, WILFORD, in terms of devastation).

His home in ruins, Dark does the only thing he can think of:

He calls the handyman ad blasting from Yani’s stereo.

“TOP O’ T’E MORNIN’ TA YA!!!”

Dark physically lurches back from his own phone and almost drops it completely when a painfully loud Irish voice practically belts his ear off in greeting.

It’s not much quieter, though, from an arm’s distance.

“I’m Seán, owner ov Top o’ t’e Mornin’ Flippers;

“‘Ow can I help ya?!”

Dark takes a moment to center himself, both in respect to the yelling Irishman and in regards to the fact that he basically just lost his HOME to underage loons.

“Yes, hello. I…” He glances back at his manor and winces, fearing for it and wondering if it’s even salvageable—perhaps he should just buy a new property?

Or just go back to Marc—NO.

NEVER that.

“Uh… do you do full builds—like, from the ground up?”

“Pre or Post demoliti’n?” The Irishman’s accent makes it hard to understand him but it also makes it very obvious that he’s not alone: there’s some New Yorker groaning in the background about best parts and Dark has to bite back a retort: his HOME being DESTROYED is NOT—

The point; or to their knowledge.

“Post.”

“Ah man…”

Dark refrains from commenting on the Yankee’s complaint—aloud, anyway; internally, he’s ripping the brat a new one. A very BLOODY new one.

And he’d know a thing or two about that.

“Sure, we’ll send Anti ov’r right away!”

“So… t’ey jus’… blew it up???”

Anti, as Seán had called him (that can’t actually be his real name, can it???), has an accent somehow WORSE than his employer—but he’s more sympathetic than him or the Yank, too, which Dark honestly appreciates (and, speaking of, Dark really shouldn’t be talking about real names, all things considered—actually, maybe this Anti person is trans, too, and also named himself?).

“Yes,” Dadi chimes in when Dark is too distracted (by Anti or the memories, nobody knows) to talk, looking apologetically at his older cousin, “Again: sorry.”

Dark just sighs, “We needed to get up to code, anyway.”

Anti is, apparently, the architect or designer of Seán’s crew.

He doesn’t build anything (apparently that’s more Jackie’s and Chase’s job) but, instead, maps out and designs the layout and levels of whatever project.

This means that he came to their not-house with a ruler and a PDA.

And nothing else.

But compassion.

“That’s so cool!!!”

Bing, one of Dark’s [many] younger siblings, honestly shocks none of them when he latches onto Anti almost as soon as he arrives. Being the more artistic one between him and his twin brother, Google, but still just as big a lover of tech, Anti’s PDA is fascinating to him because it not only functions as an art pad, allowing Anti to easily sketch out the design of their new manor with a stylus, but also as a holographic projector so they can easily view and WALK THROUGH their new home before it’s even built to get a feel for it and clarify its design.

Even Google, as stoic as Dark, and Wilford, their original loon, is taken by it.

And Anti seems perfectly comfortable, if not downright enthused, with them.

(Privately, Dark wonders if the rest of Seán’s crew respect his approach—something which might come across to such hands-on people as too detached—as much as they do; and, after Anti blushes and stammers under their praise, he decides that: 1. no, they don’t; and 2. Anti deserves more love than that.)