No matter which direction he looked, all Ford saw were trees and the decaying bus stop. Fresh out of New Jersey, he possessed duffel bags that were slung over his shoulder and a look of bewilderment. He was the perfect image of a clueless tourist. The bus had sped off into a cloud of dirt, leaving them by themselves.

There was no use denying it; he was stranded in the woods. How he had gotten into that situation was a long story. It had all started back home when the old air conditioner in their cramped apartment had spluttered out and died on the first day of a sweltering summer. The money wasn't there to fix it-it wasn't there for a lot of things lately. When his parents announced that they'd be sending him and his twin brother Stan off to Oregon to stay with their great-aunt, their fates were sealed. He almost didn't mind it; getting away from their apartment brought more relief than it should have.

The summer might actually be fun, unless nobody showed up to get them, of course. "Wasn't our great-aunt supposed to meet us here? What if we're in the wrong place? It could be dangerous out here alone. Western rattlesnakes, cougars, and black bears are native to Oregon, you know."

"Whatever. If a bear was givin' me trouble, I'd just punch it. Right in its stupid face."

"Sure," Ford said, rolling his eyes. "That'll work."

Just beyond the bus stop, a rustling was heard in a nearby bush. "Watch out," Stan said jokingly. "It might be a bear."

They went over to investigate anyway, leaving their duffel bags behind in a pile. When they ran to it, they received the last thing they expected to see. They barely had time to shield their eyes before an explosion of multicolored glitter and party streamers shot from out of nowhere in their general direction. An older woman jumped out of the bush with a wide smile and branches sticking out of her hair. She held a tube-shaped machine decorated with bright patches of color in one hand.

"What the heck?!" Stan screamed. Ford, meanwhile, practically jumped a mile into the air.

"You like my glitter cannon? It's awesome, isn't it? It's perfect for those times when you just need to make an entrance. I've been hiding in that bush for an hour! Anyways, I'm your Grauntie Mabel! It's like Great-Aunt Mabel, but shorter. And you must be Stanley and Stanford."

"That's us," said Ford, still slightly shaken. He'd be stuck washing glitter out of his hair for the rest of summer.

"Well, nice to meet you. Welcome to Gravity Falls!" she exclaimed, holding out both arms for a handshake. Stan refused to oblige altogether and crossed his arms. Ford simply hung back and stared at her outstretched hand, before looking down at his own six-fingered ones. "Don't leave me hanging. I promise I don't bite!" Grauntie Mabel said, crouching down to his level.

He stuck his hand out, stared at his feet, and waited for Grauntie Mabel to notice his hands' unusual condition. It would be best to get the awkward staring and the standard set of probing questions out of the way early. She shook his hand without flinching and asked, "Six fingers, huh? I like it. It's a full finger friendlier than normal."

Ford was suitably surprised at the lack of a normal reaction. Then again, he'd suspected she wasn't a normal relative when she hid in a bush with a glitter cannon. He changed the subject anyway to avoid further pressing. "Um, thanks, I guess. So, what exactly do you do here in town?" he asked.

"I was just about to show you. I'll bring my car around to drive over there. You kids are going to love it..."

...

"Behold...the Mystery Shack!" she exclaimed, spreading her arms out wide to reveal the tourist trap that would double as a summer home to the twins. Lined across its walls were supposedly supernatural attractions that looked more like elaborate crafts than actual mysteries. A few tourists milled about, looking around the museum and snapping pictures. A redheaded teen boy sat behind the cash register, and a heavyset woman with an apron swept the floor.

Mabel animatedly walked forward, leading the twins on an impromptu tour. "I might as well show you around. Our first attraction is what I like to call the Puppy-Kitten-Duckling-Fawn, a rare combination of not one, but four different species of baby animals. Studies show that staring at it for more than five seconds can cause diabetes, sugar highs, and possible self-destruction just from the amount of adorableness in such a small area," she explained, motioning to a creature with the head of a puppy, the tail of a kitten, the body of a duck, and the legs of a fawn. Not only was it obviously fake, Ford found it unnerving as well. No living creature had eyes that huge and sparkly. He turned away from it, but found no relief from over-the-top cutesy exhibits and corny motivational posters. Everything in the shack seemed to contain glitter, rhinestones, or pink in some fashion.

"And over here is Waddles, the amazing Uni-Pig. He's like a unicorn, but less annoying. And a pig. This majestic creature can be found frolicking through sun-kissed green fields," she continued. The so-called Uni-Pig was actually alive, unlike the rest of the exhibits, and rested in a small pen. However, he was nothing more than a regular old pig with a paper-mâché horn strapped to his head. Waddles simply flopped onto the floor with a snort and dozed off like the truly majestic creature he was.

Mabel finished her spiel with, "Isn't this exciting? I promise we'll have a totally rad summer! Wait, do kids still say that?"

The twins' silence easily answered her question.

"Never mind. I might as well introduce you to my employees. You're going to like Dan Corduroy and Maria Ramirez," she said, changing the subject and leading them away.

...

After their whirlwind tour of the Shack, Ford sat down in the living room, turned on the TV, and flipped through channels. The adventure in the woods could wait a bit-after all, he had all summer to do that. After being stuck on a bus with his brother's relentless energy for hours, followed by meeting Grauntie Mabel and her glitter cannon, he wanted some time to himself. That lasted for all of thirty seconds, however. Just as the last show went to commercial break, Stan appeared behind him, sprawled onto the floor in front of the recliner, and began watching.

"Are you completely miserable?" asked a voiceover on the TV, which was followed by a shot of an actor sobbing. "Then you need to meet Lil' Bud. He's a psychic."

The commercial featured a silhouette of Bud, a flock of flying doves, and a circus tent topped with a star. To put it simply, Ford was intrigued. "Learn about tomorrow tonight at Bud's Tent of Telepathy," said the announcer, followed by a jumble of words read so fast it was impossible to understand.

"Grauntie Mabel?" he called.

She poked her head around the corner leading into the living room. "Yes?"

"Can we go to this Telepathy Tent thing tonight? It's right here in town and everything."

"I'm not sure about this. Kids, let me tell you something. Ever since I got here, the Tent of Telepathy has been my competition. They've been taking away my audience. You don't need to go there; you've got all the mystery you can find right here!"

"I don't know, it might be fun to go even if it is a sham," said Stan.

"Please, can you take us there? It's only one night and it sounds so interesting," added Ford.

"Okay, I suppose I could take you there. Just this one time won't hurt. Who knows? Maybe we can make the best of this. The people who run the Tent of Telepathy could be perfectly nice people for all I know and I've never given them a chance. Maybe we could all just get along."

...

"Step right up, one and all, to Lil' Bud's Tent of Telepathy! Learn about your future through his mystic psychic powers. All it takes is the small price of ten dollars in the psychic sack to enter a world of amazement!" called the man at the front of the tent while throngs of tourists were pushing and shoving each other to get inside. When Mabel and the twins approached him, he took notice of them. As Grauntie Mabel put their fares into the sack, the man gave her a wink and a smile, flashing his pearly white teeth the same color as his hair. As the crowds behind them were growing impatient, they moved into the tent and took their seats on the folding chairs that were set up in front of the stage.

After some time, the curtain pulled back to reveal the much-anticipated psychic. He was not what Ford envisioned, to say the least. Instead of the cool, mysterious man hinted at in the commercials, he was a tiny boy younger than him. As soon as Lil' Bud stepped out on stage to thunderous applause, he launched into a full-blown musical number. A collective "Aw!" sounded from the audience, including Grauntie Mabel. The crowd stood up in unison and began clapping to the rhythm of the admittedly catchy song. Ford found himself standing up with them, although not of his own accord.

As the show finished, Ford noticed the man who took their fares in the background, playing the piano. Bud stood awkwardly on the big stage, looking especially tiny while alone under the hot spotlights. "Do the wink," the man mouthed. Bud did as he was told and made the most adorable face he could, complete with the wink. The crowd predictably went wild.

"I just want to pinch his cheeks and feed him cookies," said Grauntie Mabel.

"Good night, America! You people are the real miracles," exclaimed Bud from onstage with a wave of his hand as the pyrotechnic effects went off and fireworks spelling his name shot into the air.

...

"That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I've never met the Gleefuls, so I'm glad I went." said Mabel as the three exited the tent flap to go to her car. It was as if they had just entered another world, returning from the bright flash and glitter of the Tent to the earthy brown colors and dusty roads of reality. Just as she finished speaking, the white-haired man who'd been playing the piano appeared.

"You are? That's a mighty fine relief. I was worried we'd make a bad first impression. Well, well, if it isn't Mabel Pines of Mystery Shack fame. Fancy seeing you 'round here. Who are the younguns? Grandchildren?"

"Great-nephews, actually."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Gideon Gleeful, and I run this Tent," he said as leaned unnecessarily close to Mabel's face and ignored the boys. "That was my little Bud out on stage there. He's quite the showman, isn't it? Say, I think it's time we put this silly ol' competition behind us. People like us should stick together, and I'd just love to get to know you better. How about I take you out to the fanciest restaurant in town tomorrow? We can discuss our business prospects, if you know what I mean."

"Sure! I'll see you then. Maybe we could get to know each other better. You know, as friends."

Gideon clasped his bolo tie with one hand. In the other, he pulled out a plush kitten with hearts for eyes from behind his back. In its paws was a card reading "You're Purr-fect." "It's a date," he said.

For an instant, Ford glimpsed shafts of turquoise light escaping from the bolo tie around Gideon's neck when he touched it. In addition, the stuffed animal had seemingly appeared out of nowhere with a similar otherworldly glow that faded after a second. In one second, his hand was empty; in the next, the kitten was there. He glanced at Mabel, and then Stan. Judging by their expressions, they hadn't seen anything unusual. However, Ford definitely had. He was going to get to the bottom of it.

"What a cute gift! That was so nice of you. How'd you know I would like it?" Grauntie Mabel asked, examining the stuffed animal.

"Lucky guess. I suppose it's like we were fated to meet."

"No, seriously. How did you know?"

Gideon chuckled and walked away without answering, only saying, "Oh, I have my ways."

...

"But it was glowing, Stan!"

"That stuff is so fake and you know it. It's all-what does Mom say? Just asking the right questions with a little showmanship. If you wanted to see a psychic, just call her," replied Stan as he lounged in the Shack's living room armchair upside-down. "Oh, boy. You've really gone into Conspiracy Theory Mode now. What's next, are you gonna get the tinfoil hats out again?"

"First of all: the tinfoil hats were a one-time thing. One time! When I was seven! Second of all, you talk about finding buried pirate treasure so you can't say anything. Thirdly, the amulet Gideon had glowed right before he pulled out the stuffed animal. There has to be something going on there."

"Psh. At least pirate treasure's real."

"It appeared as if he moved the kitten to his hand by bending its entire molecular structure to his whim. Perhaps the tie was some kind of device to channel this. Transporting objects in that manner is highly implausible, but not impossible. I saw something appear in his hand that hadn't been there previously..."

"It's all sleight of hand and distractions."

"Look, Stan, have you ever heard of anomalies? Occurrences just outside what's normal? Well, I think we've just found one: real magic," Ford said. Although he was most likely far too old to be doing so, viewing strange creatures as real gave him a comforting sense of escape from a more mundane reality. Besides, such anomalies had yet to be scientifically disproven. He knew. He'd checked.

Still skeptical, Stan raised an eyebrow.

"There's something strange about this, and I'm going to prove it. I'll even ask someone else what I should do about it," Ford continued, running into the next room. In the gift shop, he made a beeline to the first remotely familiar face he saw. "It's Maria, right? Can I ask you something?" he questioned to the woman who was sitting on the floor with tools spread around her.

The Shack's handywoman looked up from the shelf she was fixing and gave him a friendly smile. "Go ahead, niño."

"In the completely hypothetical situation in which somebody had reason to suspect somebody else of unscrupulous behavior, what would you do to find out what they're up to?" asked Ford, marking himself as the first twelve-year-old in history to use the word "unscrupulous" in a sentence.

"Oh, I'd just follow them everywhere until I knew all their deep, dark secrets. If you pick your hiding places well, they won't notice," she said in a strangely pleasant tone.

"That's not a bad idea, actually. Thanks! You helped a lot," Ford said, bursting into the living room once again. "Stan! Do you want to help me spy on Grauntie Mabel and Gideon's date tonight?"

"Spying on our great-aunt's date? Isn't this kind of going overboard?"

"If you help me, I'll do your chores once we get back home for a whole week."

Stan sat up dramatically, or at least as dramatically as he could with blood rushing to his head from sitting upside-down. He said, "You've got yourself a deal."