### Gender Reveal
The Dunphy living room was decorated within an inch of its life. Blue balloons tied to chairs, pink streamers draped over the mantle, and a suspicious amount of Costco sheet cake parked on the dining table.
Claire darted around like a military general, repositioning chairs, refilling bowls of pretzels, and barking instructions at her husband.
"Phil, for the love of God, the knife goes next to the cake, not in the cake."
Phil looked up, frosting on his fingers. "I was… testing sharpness?"
Across the room, Jay Pritchett sipped scotch like a man who'd fought too many wars and knew this was another one.
Dede, already three glasses into her "light wine" (which was definitely not light), perched on the couch with a permanent sneer.
And Mitchell… Mitchell hovered with arms crossed, lips curled in amusement, waiting for something to go wrong. He never had to wait long with this family.
"All right, everybody!" Phil clapped his hands. "Moment of truth! Is it a boy, or a girl?"
"Hopefully a girl," Dede said loudly. "Claire was always prettier than Mitchell. Why waste those genes?"
"Thanks, Mom," Mitchell muttered.
Jay groaned. "Jesus, Dede."
Claire hissed. "Can you not make everything toxic for five minutes?"
"I'm celebrating in my own way!" Dede raised her plastic cup. "Besides, it's better than Phil's genes. That's a lottery no one wants to win."
Phil opened his mouth, then closed it. Even he knew better.
The confetti cannon fired. Everyone leaned forward.
A cloud of both pink and blue streamers rained down, settling across the floor like the punchline of a bad joke.
Silence.
Claire blinked. "…Was there a mistake? Mitchell, is this your gender-neutral thing? Because I swear, if you bring politics into my pregnancy—"
Mitchell raised a hand. "Okay. First of all, wow. Apparently pink is politics now. Second, maybe it's twins? Or maybe the baby just… wants options."
Jay cut in, voice firm but calming. "Hey. Doesn't matter if it's a boy or girl. Dunphy kids are always awesome." He gave Phil a look. "Mostly."
Mitchell rolled his eyes, grabbed a party popper, and smirked. "Relax. You're having twins." pop
Jay, Dede, Phil, and Claire froze.
"…What?"
"…What?!"
And then—screams, laughter, hugging. Phil spun Claire in a circle until she yelled at him to put her down. Mitchell smirked at his own brilliance. Even Dede cracked a smile.
For one second, the Dunphy's were united in joy.
Then Dede ruined it again.
"Two kids? Twice the chance they'll both end up like Phil."
Jay drained the rest of his scotch.
###December 1993 – Cedars-Sinai Hospital
Claire screamed, voice echoing off whitewashed walls. Sweat plastered her hair to her face.
"Phil! Do something!"
Phil's face turned pale. He clutched her hand like it was a lifeline. "You can do it, honey! Just like taking a really large dump!"
The room went dead quiet. Nurses froze mid-step. The doctor blinked.
Claire's voice turned demonic. "GET. HIM. OUT."
Phil was bodily shoved from the room, still muttering, "It was a supportive analogy!"
Outside the Delivery Room
Jay leapt to his feet the moment he saw Phil. "What happened? Is it done? Are Claire and the kids safe?"
Phil, pale as chalk: "It's… not done yet."
"Then why are you out here?"
Phil stammered. "Claire… she, uh… she needed a break from my metaphors."
Dede snorted. "She's been needing that since the wedding."
Mitchell winced. "Oh my God, you actually compared childbirth to…?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Classic Phil."
"I was trying to make it relatable!" Phil protested.
Jay sighed. "Relatable isn't your strength."
Before Phil could answer, Dede stood up, wine cup in hand. "Oh, forget it. I'll go inside. At least I can be supportive."
Jay stopped her with a hand on her arm. "No. Don't. Claire might strangle you. Or the doctors might. And frankly, I wouldn't blame them."
Mitchell nodded. "Yeah, mom, maybe stay out here with us. Supportively."
Dede rolled her eyes. "Useless, the lot of you."
Inside – Meanwhile
Amid the chaos, another consciousness stirred.
Neil—the soul once shopping in Bangalore—felt the vibration of screaming and shouting. He heard Phil's idiocy from minutes ago still ringing in the room like sitcom laugh track echoes.
'Perfect,' he thought. 'This is exactly what I wanted. Loud, messy, human. But dammit! ROB! Don't let me catch you again!'
Claire, gasping between contractions, narrowed her eyes suddenly. "Did… did someone just curse?"
### Interviews
Claire (to camera):"Phil is… Phil. He's enthusiastic, supportive, and occasionally the dumbest man alive. But he's my dumbest man alive. And he's great with kids. Usually."
Phil (grinning nervously):"Look, in my defense, it was a relatable analogy. Everyone poops. Not everyone gives birth! I was trying to calm her down. I don't see why the nurses had to push me out like that. One of them elbowed me in the ribs. Still hurts."
Jay (stone-faced):"Phil's a good guy. Heart of gold. Just… every time he talks, I wish there was a mute button. Like on the TV remote. You know, the big one that always disappears in the couch cushions? Yeah. That."
Mitchell (sipping latte):"Growing up, Claire was the perfect one. Always grades, goals, achievements. Meanwhile, I was the gay kid with show tunes. Now, seeing her screaming in a hospital bed, I'll admit… I felt a little schadenfreude. Is that so wrong?"
Dede (smirking):"I'm just saying, my genes deserve better than Dunphy. Claire was supposed to marry up, not sideways."
A Nurse (looking dead into camera):"I've delivered hundreds of babies. Never once have I heard a husband compare it to a bowel movement. Honestly, I might start a support group."
### Dunphy's House — Night
The Dunphy house, late night.
Claire slumped against the headboard, exhausted, hair still damp from the hospital ordeal. Hailey's newborn cries echoed down the hallway like a siren of chaos.
Beside her crib, little Neil lay unnervingly quiet, wide-eyed, as if cataloging every sound in the house.
Phil whispered nervously, "Honey… is it weird that Neil doesn't cry much?"
Claire groaned, tugging the blanket over her head. "It's a miracle. Don't jinx it."
"But what if he's broken?" Phil whispered louder. "Babies are supposed to cry! Maybe his vocal cords—"
Claire shot him a death glare. "If you wake him up just to check, I swear I will kill you."
Phil shut his mouth instantly.
From the crib, Neil smirked again.
Later That Night
Jay stopped by, pretending it was to "drop something off," but really to check on his daughter and grandkids. He found Claire half-asleep in bed, Phil pacing with a baby monitor like a secret agent. Tip-toed and focused.
Jay lowered his voice. "How's my girl?"
"Tired," Phil mumbled. "Happy. But tired."
"And the kids?"
Phil beamed. "Neil's already so advanced. Quiet, observant. Future leader vibes."
"Or serial killer vibes," Mitchell muttered from the armchair, scrolling through a magazine. "Silence is always scarier than noise."
Jay ignored him, walked over to Neil's crib, and peered inside. The baby stared back at him, oddly calm, eyes bright.
Jay frowned. "That one's different."
Claire woke up. "Different good?"
Jay straightened, his face softening. "Different great." A wide smile adorned his face.
Phil wiped his eyes dramatically. "See? Even Jay believes!"
Mitchell muttered, "That's literally the first nice thing he's said in a long time. Savor it."
Dede poked her head in the doorway, wine glass in hand. "I still think Claire could've done better."
"Out. All of you. Don't disturb the children." Jay barked.
Dede retreated, muttering about being unappreciated.
Claire & Phil: 'but we are the parents?'
The family settled, noise fading. Hailey cried again, but Neil didn't. He just lay there, watching the ceiling, already plotting.
'Welcome to a new world, Paragon' he thought. 'Time to plan the long game then?'