There she was.
A wave of hesitation flooded the boy's mind as she stood behind the cash register in all of her radiant glory. Each ray of light pouring in through the window behind her made the woman's auburn hair shine and shimmer. To Dipper, it almost looked as if it glowed, an angel walking amidst the downtrodden world around her. A lone bead of sweat rolled down his cheek. Even though she passed him over weeks ago after he confessed his feelings to her, he still could not shake her from his mind. His mind kept replaying the scene over and over again, looking for some extra meaning between the lines, but it was clear as day.
She wasn't interested in him as anything more than a friend. And it crushed him.
"Hey, kid, wake up!"
Dipper snapped out of his reverie, tightening his grip on the handle of his broom and abruptly standing up straight, turning to face the gruff voice that called his name.
"I can't have you lollygagging about when there's work to be done," Grunkle Stan barked, directing his thumb over his shoulder and to the hallway behind him. "Make yourself useful and start sweeping around the attractions, it's starting to get a bit dusty in there and I don't want to get sued again for making somebody's allergies act up, so c'mon, up and at 'em!"
Dipper could only respond with a muted sigh. Stan seemed to be unaware, of if he was, uncaring of the boy's plight. Not that the old man had anything else other than money on his mind, judging from the way he ran the business. Slinging his broom over his shoulder, he left the room without a fuss.
Maybe this was for the better, Dipper thought to himself. He could be out of the store and away from Wendy for a while. He wouldn't have to look at her or even think about her. He could work away his worries without dreaming about her freckles, that subtle smile that was nestled upon her lips, that carefree giggle she always made whenever he shared a joke…
Dipper stopped in his tracks and wiped his brow. "So much for that plan," he muttered to himself. Broom in hand, he set to work on the floorboards, trying to build up a rhythm to soothe his thoughts as he scattered dust to and fro. Just as he finished one section of the room, the abrupt rattle and crash of something falling behind one of the exhibits caught him off guard, causing him to swivel about on his heels and clutch the broom for dear life.
The sound came from behind the stuffed "Lovebird" that Stan claimed to have wrestled into submission in Guatemala some forty-odd years ago. Out of every weird bauble and knickknack within the Mystery Shack, this was the thing that creeped Dipper out the most. Whoever gave it the name had one twisted sense of humor – it was a grotesque abomination, sporting four wings, the torso of an alligator, two human arms and six oversized chicken feet, topped off with the head of an alligator.
Just as Dipper began to wonder if this was all just an elaborate metaphor, another crash emanated from behind the figure. "Hey, is there someone back there?" Dipper called out to no response. Pressing the broom handle to his chest and stalking forward, he uneasily peered around the corner.
Only to be instantly jumped on by his twin sister. "DIPPER!" squealed Mabel as she threatened to squeeze the very life out of him.
"Ack, e-easy there, Mabel!" Dipper managed to blurt out, coughing while she pressed down on his body with that death grip she called a hug. "You're choking me!"
"Aww," she giggled, "but you always say that!" Mabel unhooked her arms and winked at her twin brother. "I see Grunkle's got you on broom duties today!"
He scratched the back of his head and looked down at Mabel's sweater. It's a picture of a sun wearing shades while saying "Stay cool!", complete with a sticker that says the same thing right next to it. "Yeah, but that's nothing new. I just got one question, though."
"What's that?"
"What exactly were you doing back there?"
Mabel's perma-smile widened an inch. "I bet you'd like to know, wouldn't you?"
"Are we going to have to go through this again?" Dipper sighed. "Can't you just answer me honestly instead of leading me around circles? Besides, it sounds like you broke something back there."
Mabel's smile grew another inch. "I would tell you, but you didn't say the magic word!"
Dipper slapped his forehead, almost pushing the baseball cap off his head in the process. "Please."
"Okay, now I know for sure you're not Grunkle Stan! Come check out this cool thingy I found," urged Mabel as she waved Dipper behind the attraction.
As Dipper peered over his sister's shoulder, there was what looked to be a metallic box jammed between the wall and the base of the Lovebird. "What is it?" asked Dipper, doing his best to trying to make out what exactly the various exposed dials and levers on the device do.
"I think it's one of those kid toys that make a bunch of sounds when you mess around with it, but it's a bit too noisy for that!" She grinned. "That, and it's in desperate need of a Mabel makeover!"
The boy ignored her words as he squeezed himself past Mabel and kneeled down beside it. The box was coated with a thick layer of dust, save for the fingerprints left behind by his sister. "Maybe Stan left it back here and forgot about it?"
"C'mon, Dipper, you know that's a load of baloney! Grunkle Stan would totally have one of these out for the kids, especially if he made it coin-operated."
"That's… actually a good point, Mabel," responded Dipper. "But for all we know, this thing could be a control box to something. Let's hope it's not the, ugh, Lovebird. Last thing I need in my life is to see that thing come to life."
"Count me in, yeesh," Mabel chimed in, summoning her entire willpower to avoid staring the beast in the eye. "Do you think we can pull that thingamajig out from there?"
Dipper brushed away the thick dust, seeing the faint outline of a plaque embedded on the side of the box. "I wouldn't count on it. However," he added, blowing away the last of the fine dust resting upon it, "this seems to have been made by a company or something judging by the label here, but I can only make out one of the letters."
"What's it say?"
Dipper tried to wrest the box out from the cranny before answering Mabel with a shrug. "All I know is that it starts with an 'N'. And whatever it is, it's not going anywhere anytime soon."
Mabel's eyes lit up, her whole body springing up in place with energy. "I know just the trick! You stay right there!"
And before he could even reply, his twin sister was gone like a flash of lightning. Now it was just him and this… box thing. Upon closer inspection, there were three dials and two levers that could be fiddled about with, the rest of the device's various bells and whistles being stuck behind the base. Seeing as there was nobody else around, he gave the largest dial a small tweak to the right. The faint noise of unstable, crackling electricity greeted his ears, which was enough for him to decide against fiddling with it further. The thing could be a ticking time bomb waiting to blow up the whole shack! Whatever it was, it was another mystery that was waiting to be solved.
A mystery.
Dipper reached under his vest and procured his journal. It was a long shot, but it was better than sitting around and doing nothing until Mabel came back. The tattered, aged pages flew by in a blur, the inquisitive boy poring tirelessly over the text to find some nugget of information about this device, even if it was wishful thinking He never once saw the apparatus in the text, so why would he now?
Frustrated, he slammed the cover shut. But as luck would have it, a leaflet fluttered out from the loose binding of the journal and onto the floor in front of him. Picking it up, he unfolded the page and examined it closely.
"The… Prognosticator Apparatus?" Dipper mumbled to himself as his gaze was drawn to an illustration of the device below. No, it couldn't be. His eyes widened as he lowered the page, looked at the trapped device, and then back at the page again. There was no doubt in his mind that this was the very same machine– even the author of this journal knew of its existence. Jackpot!
"Hey, uh, Dipper, why are you pumping your arms in the air like that?"
Dipper felt the hairs on his neck stand up on his end, having been caught off-guard in yet another embarrassing moment of his life. "O-Oh, uh, hey Soos, what's, uh, heh, what's up?" he managed to stammer out before regaining his composure and tucking the leaflet and journal back under his vest.
"Beats me, dude! Your sister asked me to come down and move this thing over so you could get something that fell behind it?" Soos shrugged and took a long look at the Lovebird. "Is it me or is this thing more intimidating than usual?"
Dipper shrugged and stood up, dusting off his shorts. "I'll let you be the judge of that, seeing as how you've been working here way longer than we've been in school. Say, that reminds me, do you know where Mabel went?"
"She said something about bringing in emergency supplies and rations in order to fight a bad guy and save a prince, not necessarily in that order."
The boy's expression was nothing short of deadpan. "So, uh, do you think you could move this thing out an inch or two so I can get whatever's back there?"
Soos nodded and gave him the thumbs up. "Can do, dude! But if you don't mind me askin', what exactly is back there that makes you want to move this thing out of the way?"
"Honestly? I have no idea." Truth be told, Dipper never got the chance to read over the notes of the device. The only thing he knew for sure was that it had a name and the author of the journal also knew about it. "It's some sort of thing with dials and levers that Mabel found a little while ago and we're trying to get it out of there."
"DID SOMEONE CALL FOR ADMIRAL MABEL?" boomed a shrill, high-pitched voice from the doorway. Dipper found himself taken aback at the sight of his sister dressed up in makeshift armor. Two pillows were strapped to her body by a rope, one for her front and back, complete with a metal bucket perched haphazardly upon her head.
Soos clapped and cheered raucously, while all Dipper could do was sigh quietly. "Mabel, is this even necess-ow!" A lemon cookie hitting him square across the nose was her response.
"First order of business is the liberation of the Doohickey Discobombobulatoritator from Baron von Lovebird!" commanded the girl, pointing over to the statue. "Soos!"
"Yes ma'am!" Soos replied with a salute.
"Your first order as the newly appointed Captain-of-Moving-and-Fixing-Stuffs is to move the evil Baron von Lovebird away from the wall!" Mabel punctuated this with a closed fist, accentuated by a fit of maniacal laughter.
"Right away sir, er, ma'am!" Soos resounded as he doubled over and held the statue by the metal base before leaning back and pulling with all the might he could muster. The weight of the metal pushing across the wood unleashed an unholy din and screeched across the floor, forcing Dipper to cover his ears.
"Mabel, what's with the-!" Dipper was once again cut off by a lemon cookie, this time hitting him in the chin, courtesy of his twin sister. He quietly picked up the two cookies by his feet and shoved them into his mouth, mumbling to himself while he waited for Soos to finish up.
Finished, he pear-shaped giant of a man doffed his hat and wiped his brow before flashing the twins a thumbs up. "Job's done, dudes. Now if you don't mind, I gotta take care of some biz for Stan."
"Excellent! You are hereby dismissed and temporarily relieved of your duties, Captain Soos!" Mabel affirmed. Without any further fanfare or applause, Soos fixed his hat back on and left the room. "As, for you, Swabbie Dipper, retrieve the booty posthaste!"
"Fine-ow!" he uttered before recoiling from yet another cookie smacking him square in the arm.
"Get in character," Mabel urged as she held aloft a cookie in her hand and a malicious smirk on her face.
Dipper sighed. "Aye-aye, ma'am." He scooted himself towards the wall and found the device perched upon its side. Picking it up, he now had a more complete view of the Progressicator Apparatus. Or was it the Proctologist Apparatus? There was a lot of small dials and levers on the obscured side of the device, along with what looks to be a small screen of sorts in the corner.
Mabel abruptly chimed in by jumping on Dipper's back and shouting a war cry of victory to the heavens above. "Wooooo, we got it! My-ster-ry Twins! My-ster-ry Twins!"
Dipper chuckled, turning to face Mabel as she planted her feet back onto the ground. "I think I may have found out what this thing is!"
Mabel's eyes lit up. "Really? I thought you didn't know!"
With a self-assured smile, he handed the machine over to Mabel and pulled out the page he tucked away under his vest. "While you were out, I found out that the author of the journal knew about this machine and wrote a page on it! But for some reason, it was torn off and tucked away within the journal's bindings instead of being with the rest of the pages."
The girl hummed to herself, quizzically looking over the object in her hands. "That's funny, does it say anything about what it does?"
"Can't say for sure," he answered with a shake of his head, "I didn't have a chance to read it over before Soos came in-"
KZZCZKH!
Both of the twins winced from the sickly pop that gurgled forth from the machine. Mabel removed her hand from one of the dials. "Sorry, couldn't resist. Continue on, bro!"
Clearing his throat with a stern look, Dipper put on his reading voice and began to read aloud in earnest. "The Prognosticator Apparatus. This device is of unknown origin, with the only lead I've been able to find was that it was produced by a company by the name of… Huh, the author seemed to have scratched it out. Anyways, I found it during one of my excursions out in the wilderness of Gravity Falls. It was propped up against an abandoned mailbox in the woods, so I decided to take it home for further study since I've never seen anything like it-"
"Blah, blah, blah, get to the good stuff already!"
"Fine, fine, alright," he replied as his eyes scanned towards the next paragraph. "After much deliberation, I've come to the conclusion that this device is actually a rudimentary fortune-telling device that offers limited insight into the future. Over the course of testing it for three weeks, it has been impeccable and flawless in its predictions, but I cannot vouch for anything long-term as I have a limited amount of time before I… I… Well, it looks like he stopped writing here."
Mabel's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. "Wait… so this thing can read the future?!" squealed Mabel as she hugged it tight against her chest. "Oh my gosh, just think of all the things we would be able to know! Like what kind of jobs we would end up having, who we will fall in love with and marry, or maybe if we become rich and famous!"
Dipper paused for a moment, laughing nervously and attracting an odd look from his twin sister. "Well, easy there, Mabel, we don't even know how it works yet, but uh, it seems the he wrote a list of instructions on how to operate it." Dipper brought the page closer to his face as he continued. "Many of the dials are as listed below, and used in some conjunction, spell out words as described. The largest lever acts as the on-off switch for the device, with-"
KZZCHHBLRRKRKRAK!
A puff of black smoke blew out from the apparatus. "Hey, Dipper, I don't think this gizmo works anymore," Mabel stated sheepishly.
"Here, let me take a look at it," Dipper said as she handed the contraption back to him. "Normally I'd ask Soos to fix this, but this seems like it would be out of his league, you know? But I got another idea. If we're lucky, we might be able to find the company or person that made this thing and we can have them repair it for us," he asserted before rotating it around and inspected the nearly-illegible label. The first letter was still visible, but the rest seem to have been scratched off on purpose. "Mabel, do you happen to have a spare piece of paper and a pencil?"
And without missing a beat, Mabel reached into one of many sweater pockets and pulled out a small notepad and paper before handing it over. "Do I! Wait a minute, I thought you already have a pencil and some paper on you?"
Dipper set the device on the ground, plaque side up. "For one, I only have a pen on me, and second of all, I don't want to tear something out of my journal for a quick trace." Taking the pencil and a piece of paper in hand, he began to rub the graphite against the faded letters with alacrity.
The both of them looked on in growing anticipation, each letter slowly coming to life before their very eyes. But just as the last word became legible, they both gasped and blurted out in unison. It couldn't be!
"Northwest Industries?!"