'Lil Ol' Me
Note: This story contains some cursing and racial slurs.
"Thank you! Thank y'all for coming to my 'lil ol' birthday!"
"Happy birthday, Gideon!" the party goers cheered.
Gideon Charles Gleeful kept up is bashful smile. Let them think I'm slightly embarrassed by all the attention, he thought. "Now, I'm just a bit tired from all that celebrating; you fine folk s surely won't mind if I retire to my room for the night?"
He flashed his cute look, his eyes widening to soulful saucers, a finger impishly raised to his lips.
"Aw!" his guests sighed in adoration. "We don't mind!"
"Thank y'all for understanding!" Gideon told his guests. "You just go on having a good time!"
He was glad to get away from them. As so on as his back was turned his bashful s mile was replaced with a dark sneer. He h ad nothing but contempt for the stupid hicks that flocked to his show, and he longed to leave for someplace more upscale , but Gravity Falls, Oregon was home to many occult secrets that he would have to be a fool to turn his back on. Besides, the people there were easy marks, all too willing to be taken in by his performances.
Taking a few slices of cake with him, Gideon headed upstairs to his room, glad t o finally be alone after hours of shaking hands and pretending to enjoy the com p any of those idiots. Well, alone except for his guinea pig Cheekums...and Mabel.
It wasn't really Mabel Pines, unfortunately; just a doll in her likeness he had crafted, but eve n so he never felt alone as long as he h ad it with him. It had taken Gideon so me time to decide on the look of the doll; at first he had considered giving it a delightful hand-stitched sweater, just like Mabel liked to wear. He watched from afar, taking notes on her different sweaters, how much care when into each one. It wasn't enough though, not for his bashful Queen Mabel. So in the end he g ave Doll Mabel a beautiful pale pink dress and a gold crown instead of her usual hairband. It had taken a while of scrounging around town, especially outside the Mystery Shack, to collect the hair samples—only Mabel's real hair would do for his doll. One night, rifling through their trash, he was about to give up and try again later when he hit the jackpot: a broken pink brush full of tangled brown hair. He had fallen to his knees, thanking the Lord before inhaling deeply at the lovely strands, doing his best to ignore the liquid garbage and focusing on the scent of Mabel's shampoo.
"Oh, welcome back, my king! Happy birthday!" Gideon spoke, imitating Mabel's voice as best as he could. He danced the doll across his desk, twirling his little queen around his partially assembled second mystic amulet. He smiled wistfully and set her down.
"Why thank you, Mabel!" he replied, for once that night not faking his happiness . The real Mabel had rejected his birth day invitation, but he didn't hold it against her. It was her family keeping her away from him, turning her against him. She was innocent; she was pure.
"I swear on Jesus my lord and savior to one day make you my queen, Mabel!"
"Who?" Mabel asked. "What do you mean?"
Gideon sighed softly and stroked the beautiful brown hair. "You see, Mabel; they haven't even told you His name. Let me rescue you, and show you the light of God!"
"Like at the church?"
Gideon chuckled, his expression darkening. "No, not the church. The pastor...disapproves of my miracles, says they glorify me instead of the Lord. Well, what's that old fool know? These miracles were given unto me! There's a reason I found the book!"
He cast a furtive glance at 2, holding an incomplete recording on the secrets of the town. His teeth clenched as he remembered the pastor scolding him. "He doesn't like it when I call your great uncle a Christkiller, but that's what he is! A fucking Christkilling kike! Him and those putrid Pines! Pardon my language Mabel, but that rotten Jew Stanford's filled your head with his lies!"
"My family's so wicked and sinful!" Mabel wailed. "How could I ever be clean enough for you ?"
"You're different from them!" Gideon assured her. "You may be a Jew, but you're worlds apart from the likes of Stanford and Dipper! I mean, shucks! My 'family' isn't much better!"
"But your mom and dad are kind and friendly," Mabel pointed out.
"Them?" Gideon spat. "Oh, my so-called dad's nothing more than an ex-con, a carjacker and petty thief! I turned that fat fucker's life around after finding him, cleaning him up and making him the used car dealer he is today. And my 'mother ' ? Shit, she was giving blow jobs for crystal meth under an overpass when I found her! It didn't take much to get her to quit the drugs; with my powers I beat her around until she was too scared to ever disagree with. Dad's still not quite gotten the big idea yet though. I swear, if he tickles me again, the first thing I'll do when I finish the mystic amulet is make him cut off his own pinkie!"
The fat little miracle worker's chest heaved as he hyperventilated, his teeth clenched painfully tight. Sweat beaded on his forehead, running down his face in drops, bits of his make-up coming off with it. His eye caught his reflection in the mirror, and he hastily dabbed his face with a handkerchief. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "That's no good at all," he muttered. Just like being tickled, getting too excited at the wrong moment made his make-up run, and he couldn't have that.
"Look at 'lil ol' me," he chuckled. "I'm a right mess now, aren't I?"
He turned to Mabel. She stared at him, her brown eyes boring into his blue ones . Shocked, he stumbled back, raising his arms to his face. "Now, stop that, Mabel!" he scolded.
"Stop what?" she asked innocently.
"Looking me in the eye!" he yelled. "You know I can't let the wrong people make eye contact. They might really see me, and the thought, well...it distracts me from my miracles!"
"But I'm not one of the wrong people, Gideon!" Mabel insisted. "What's wrong?"
"Stop it!" he shrieked. "Stop looking at me!"
Before he knew what he was doing, Mabel was in his hand, and he hurled her into the wall with a sickening crack. Her body shattered into pieces, landing in a broken heap upon the floor. Gideon let out a strangled gasp and scrambled to the remains.
"No! My queen, I didn't mean it!" he wailed, collecting the broken pieces.
"Gideon...I still love you..."
His doll—no, his special Mabel that really did love him—slipped through his fingers, sprinkling over the carpet. Gideon sobbed noisily and stumbled back to his desk, burying his face into his hands to cry. Loud, shuddering sounds gurgled up from his breast, tears and snot smearing his face.
He quieted as he began to think. Was it really his rage that cost him his doll? No; Gideon knew he would never hurt Mabel no matter how angry he got. Could Stan ford have done something, jinxing him from the Mystery Shack? Not likely; the old kike was certainly petty enough to try, but he was too cheap to make the first move. No, it had to be Dipper Pines. Th at boy encountered too much on his own for it to be a coincidence; Dipper must have learned something from one of the mysterious books.
"Dipper..." Gideon seethed, looking up from his hands and into the mirror. A soggy face gazed back at him with puffy red eyes, chalky white make-up running off in snotty globs, an enormous white regent falling out of place. Look what that sneaky little Jew did to him.
"Oh, you think you can mess with me, boy?" Gideon asked as he wiped his ruined make-up off, the spots and wrinkles o hands showing up. "You can't even begin to imagine what I've seen!"
His cheeks sagged under his make-up, his piggish eyes sunken. Gideon giggled. "You see, Dipper, I've been in this business a lot longer than you think!"
He removed his wig, exposing his receding hairline, what hair he still possessed scraggly and his scalp reddened. It didn't matter what medication, surgery, or magic he tried; there was nothing to fix his condition. The best he could do was hide it behind his make-up. Such was the price for dealing in the occult, getting closer to God than any mortal had a right too.
Setting his dentures aside, Gideon grinned, only a little under half of his original teeth remaining in his mouth. It was so easy to pretend he was a child with the right make-up though, forever a cute nine-year-old psychic wonder.
"Happy 38th birthday, 'lil ol' me," he rasped.
Author's notes: So, another April Fools' Day. This story came about after thinking about some favorite personal memes my younger brother and I hold about Gideon, namely "raging antisemitic Gideon" and "38-year-old man Gideon" to make him even more outrageous and creepy. My first Gravity Falls story. I would like to do something longer and more conventional, but I like how this turned out. I hope you never quit e look at Gideon the same way again after this. Happy April Fools' Day 2013!