- Hey, guess who has two differently coloured thumbs and finished painting the study? - Dipper proudly announced his feat to his wife, pointing to his equally messy shirt.
- Good job, Dip!
The tall, red-haired woman emerged from behind the door, holding set of brushes, her skin and white top as pristine and clean as when she begun decorating their bedroom about an hour ago.
- Hey, it's no fair, you should be way dirtier, you had more to paint!
- I can find one way to fix it. - Wendy snickered.
She put the cans on the floor, and closed her arms around Dipper's neck, pulling him into a deep kiss, allowing his freshly painted hands to grab her waist.
- See, now we have to take a shower. - she winked. - It's a good thing I did all the plumbing first.
But before the newly-wed couple could take a break from decorating their small house, a sudden rumble from downstairs alerted them both, and at once they sprinted to the ground floor. Wendy arrived there first and it was her scream that only hastened Dipper, who grabbed the only weapon in his reach on the way down.
Armed with the telescopic paint-roller, he jumped the last three steps and aimed it at the sight that froze Wendy to the ground, ready to defend their household.
But instead, Dipper Pines found himself as astonished as his wife, when he spotted a round, see-through blob hovering above their sofa, staring down at the broken vase, whose pieces laid scattered on the floor.
- I do apologise, it does sometimes happen. - the stout ghost turned his disproportionally small head towards them. - I still have trouble controlling my ethereality.
Though initially shocked by the unwanted visitor, Wendy has managed to recover first, grabbed a pillow from the nearby chair, and took first cautious step into their living room, slowly approaching the spectre.
- Alright, who are you, and what do you want?
With her eyes fixed at the ghost, she was already thinking ahead; Wendy knew she would have to get to the kitchen for salt, and she might need to roll over to grab a can of nails from the other edge of the room if the intruder decided to attack. But instead, the ghost grabbed the edge of his bowler hat and bowed, or at least moved his head in a similarly looking manner, and greeted them.
- Good afternoon. My name is... well, was, Anadol Porcupine. At least I think so. It has only been about a day or two since I died, it's still a bit fuzzy for me.
- What do you want? - repeated Dipper, circling the ghost from the other side, watching Wendy's face for signals.
- Well... I'm here to stay and haunt. - the ghost spoke nonchalantly, and with severe disappointment in his voice. - I didn't want to, but that's the job.
Dipper waited again for Wendy to make the first move, but the lumberjill was exactly as baffled by his statement as he was, and even lowered her makeshift shield, which only now she realised how useless would be.
- You are here to... haunt?
- And to stay? - added Dipper, alerted by that part of his response much more.
- Yes... - the ghost turned around, shifting his stare from Dipper to Wendy.
They both flinched when he suddenly floated back and onto the couch, this time without damaging any of the furniture.
- Ah, now it works better. - he said politely - Where were we? Oh, yes, I'm afraid this is the place I will now forever haunt. But don't worry, I only have to do it every few days, and between us, I'm terrible at it, I don't want to cause any discomfort, so I'll just, I don't know, jingle some glasses, or make the floor creek, nothing heart-stopping. Please, sit down.
Before either Dipper or Wendy could accept the offer to sit in their own house, the ghost reached his chubby arm and, to both their and his surprise, grabbed the remote, and somewhat clumsily managed to turn the TV on. With his see-through eyes gaping at the flashing screen, he paid little attention to neither Dipper nor Wendy, who used that distraction to exchange a few important words.
- We have to trap him... - she mumbled, keeping one eye on the ghost, admiring a soda commercial.
- How? - Dipper whispered back through his teeth, sidestepping behind ghost's back.
- You grab the nails, I grab the salt, we have to ensnare him in a circle. - she pointed to the salt and pepper shakers on the coffee table - Then we'll have to make the iron cage...
But then, a sudden movement of the see-through blob caused them to cease their talking, as the ghost floated to the kitchen, opened (with some difficulty) few cupboards, and amazed Dipper and Wendy again by bringing a bowl of popcorn with him. Before the ghost could sit, or at least hover above his seat, Wendy decided to advance her plan and launched herself forward, grabbed the salt shaker, and was about to open it, when the ghost's cold, slimy hand took it from her.
- Oh, thank you ma'am.
He once again tipped his hat, emptied the contents of the shaker into the bowl, gave it a few solid shakes, and begun munching on the salted popcorn, still mesmerised by the never-ending stream of ads.
- Okay, scratch that, then. - Wendy raised to her feet again, stepping between the ghost and the screen - Listen here, you... what was your name again?
- Andole Porcupine. Or it might have been Antonio. Or Angela. See, my mind is already going blank.
- Whatever your name is, unless you haven't noticed, we live here, you can't just butt yourself in here!
- Well, sadly, I have to. - he explained, slightly annoyed by Wendy and Dipper blocking his view.
He solved that problem, to Dipper and Wendy's annoyance, by floating through their bodies, handing Dipper the bowl of popcorn, and taking it from him once he was behind their backs.
- See, I'm bound to that place, so I have to haunt it. - he took another mouthful of popcorn, which somehow disappeared in his blobish form - It's natural for ghosts to haunt their graves after all.
- Wait, graves? - Dipper raised his brow. - You... you're buried here?!
- Oh, yes - the ghost spoke politely - In the ancient burial ground underneath your house.
- Ancient burial ground?!
Wendy and Dipper shared the same accusatory look, though they both backed up equally fast.
- Wendy, honey, I swear I checked! This parcel of land had nothing! - he kept explaining - No background radiation, no anomalies, and definitely no burial grounds. No native tribes were on this place even for a day.
- Yeah, and I checked it in the mayor's office. This land is freaking clean!
- Excuse me...
The low, but somewhat warm voice of the ghost interrupted the couple's bickering.
- I beg your pardon, but this one is right. - the ghost spoke softly, pointing to Dipper - There is no burial grounds underneath your house...
- But you've just said... - Dipper shook his hands in act of desperation.
- Oh, yes, there is no one right now, but it will be in the future.
The two live beings in the room blinked.
- So... you're... a ghost from the future? - Dipper asked, scratching his head. Wendy remained astonished for another minute or so, her face twisted in a shocked grimace.
- I suppose, from your perspective, yes. - the ghost replied. - I had nowhere to go. The future is overcrowded already. You do realise there are more dead humans than alive ones, right? I'm surprised the management hasn't started shifting people temporarily before. And by "temporarily", I do mean moving them in the fourth dimension.
- Well, lucky for you - Dipper interrupted, clapping his hands. - You've managed to end up in Gravity Falls, Oregon, and if there's one town with more freaky places than anywhere on Earth, it's here! - he stretched his arms in a showman-like routine - So we're gonna find you a nice place to live in no time. Auch!
Dipper immediately cowered when Wendy nudged him in the ribs.
- You can't say "live" to a ghost. - she whispered, though once she met Dipper's confused stare, she turned to the ghost herself - Uh, can you?
- Honestly, death is pretty new to me as well. - he sighed - But yes, I presume it is a bit offensive.
- Well, as I said, we will find you a nice abandoned house, or mine, or cave for you to, er, haunt...? - Dipper raised his brow - Inhabit...?
The ghost once again sat, or rather floated onto, Wendy and Dipper's sofa.
- It's very kind of you, but even if you do find me that place, I will have to return here. I'm bound to my grave, even if it has not been made yet.
Once more, the two adventurers exchanged looks of utter confusion and helplessness.
- Well, we can't let you stay here... - Dipper started.
- We've just moved in ourselves, we're newlyweds!
- My congratulations. - the ghost bowed - I'm sure we will find a peaceful way to coexists her- Oh, see, "exist", that's another bad word, since I do not exist anymo-
- No, we damn won't! - Wendy roared, slamming her fist on the wooden coffee table. - I mean, this is ridiculous!
She grasped the hem of Dipper's shirt and ragged him towards the doorway.
- Come on, Dipper, we need to find an expert.
- Oh, you mean Ford? - he cheered - He would be able to come up with something-
- No, I meant an actual expert!
And with that, the bickering couple left their house, slamming the door behind them. The ghost moved his hand to try scratching his head, realised he couldn't anymore, shrugged, and went back to watching the television.
Dipper thought that seeing a ghost in his living room (which, as it now occurred to him, was a misnomer) was the strangest thing he would see this afternoon, but the sight of Robbie Valentino in a suit was far, far weirder. He still had vivid memory of his look as a teenager, and his current one changed drastically. His untidy goatee and earrings were gone, and only his hairstyle remained of his old, gloomy demeanour, though of course his job made up for it tenfold.
Sitting in the chair once occupied by his father, Robbie took a sip of his coffee, blinked a couple more times at his two friends, and repeated his concerns.
- So... you guys have a ghost in your house.
Wendy and Dipper nodded.
- And how exactly can I help you? - he asked hesitantly.
- Who else would knows about that stuff more than you? - Wendy threw her arms into air again in another explosion of emotions.
- Yeah, except we only deal with dead. Like, properly dead dead. - Robbie Valentino stressed. - The dead that are, uh, not really dead, that's more of your style, guys.
- But this ghost said something about his grave.
And Dipper relayed the ghost's story, hoping they would finally gain Robbie's attention, even if prospect of working with his old rival wasn't up his game.
- Okay, graves I can deal with... Though not sure what about the ones that haven't been made yet.
Robbie reluctantly stood up and grabbed his black jacket, heading towards exit.
- Mother, I'm going out. Call me if there's a problem.
- Bye, Robbiekins! - a cheerful, female voice reached their ears from another room of Robbie's family house - Don't forget to give out pamphlets to anyone looking miserable and depressed as if their whole world suddenly collapsed!
- Mom!
A few minutes later, Robbie was faced with the same unimaginable sight that Dipper and Wendy were still refusing to get used to. The ghost, from the looks of it, moved from popcorn to cookies, was still watching the same channel, and hasn't given a single moment to acknowledge Robbie's presence until he spoke, or rather emitted a faint noise of confusion.
- Uh...
- Oh, hello there. Do you live here as well? The more, the merrier!
- Okay, that's it, this is freaking me out. - Robbie spread his arms out, and ran towards the front door, but he was promptly stopped by Wendy and Dipper, who grabbed him by his arms and forced to sit next to the ghost.
Wendy took a deep breath, cracked her knuckles, and shifting her determined stare from the ghost to Robbie, begun what Corduroys would call a "conversation".
- Alright, I'm fed up with all of that. You said there is... will be a grave of yours here, right?
- Yes, we're almost directly above it. - he spoke somewhat proudly.
- Great. So, Robbie, can you guys do anything about it?
- Like what? - Robbie snarled - We could relocate the grave, if we had tons of paperwork, and oh, I don't know, if the grave was there! But it's not! Not now, at least!
- Wait a minute, that's it! - Dipper suddenly clicked his fingers - You're from the future! We've been to the future!
- You what?
Robbie opened his mouth, until Wendy almost causally stretched her arm and pulled it back into place.
- Oh, shush, and ask Tambry. - she said - But, Dipper, that's an idea! We can call Blendin and let him fix everything!
Their faces, for the first time this troublesome afternoon were filled with delight. Dipper ran upstairs, and after a quick rummage through their packed belongings, he brought the time-tape with him.
- So, what year are you from? We're gonna transport you in a jiffy, but we need a number.
- Number? - the ghost asked - Oh, no, those were deemed illegal long time ago. Or will be. Tenses get a bit confusing when you travel in time.
- So... you... don't know which year you are from? - Dipper stuttered
- I am terribly sorry, but no. But it happened after the duck rebellion, because we had to demolish the old statues. And, do you guys still have two Moons? That might help you pin point my time of death...
The colour and hope from drained from Wendy and Dipper's faces as fast as they gained it.
- You know, why do I think that bringing Blendin would only made things worse? - Dipper spoke, closing his time tape.
- Yeah, it's not like things been doing smoothly at the agency... - Wendy crossed her arms. - Dipper, I think we bring back someone who would really know how to deal with a ghost.
And once again, she reached for the exit, dragging behind her Robbie's body, still mumbling to himself about the revelation of time-travel.
- Oh, boy I can't wait to hear what Ford will think of that! - Dipper cheered and swiftly follow Wendy, helping her carry Robbie's body.
- Hi there, mister ghost! My name is Mabel Pines. - Mabel Pines smiled at the ethereal being, practically leaping from her chair and onto the coffee table. - See, I've heard you've been bugging my bro and my sister-in-law a bit, and I'm here to solve any problems!
She cheered, and put a plate of cookies shaped in the form of cat's faces before him.
- There! I've heard you've got a bit of sweet tooth! All for you!
While the ghost was busy devouring the cookies one by one, Mabel leaned to her brother's ear and whispered.
- I'm playing the good cop now.
She turned her attention back to the ghost, sitting opposite of hers, and continued her would-be-polite speech.
- So, mister...
- Barnacle. Barnacle Porcupine. At least, that sounds good for me now... - the ghost pondered.
- Mister Porcupine...
Before either Wendy, Dipper or the ghost could react, Mabel leaped from her seat, stomped on the coffee table, and faced the ghost, tucking the long sleeves of her sweater.
- Okay, mister ghost, no more nice Mabel! - she shouted - You get your non-existent backside from by bro-bro's house, or I'll...
But Mabel couldn't finish her threat, as the see-through body of the ghost disappeared, letting Mabel fall to his seat, forcing her to wonder for a moment what was she exactly pressing her nose before. Th ghost appeared a few feet next to her, slowly drifting back to his place as Mabel hastened from it back to hers.
- I told you already, I have to stay here. And, really, am I that big of a nuisance? - he asked, opening a jar of pickles.
- Yes! - Wendy and Dipper roared in unison, but Mabel fixed her hair again and sat on the edge of the table.
- Let's try this again, nice mister ghost... See, my brother here and his wife just moved in, and, well... - she rolled her eyes - ...they would like to have time for themeselves. And even if they didn't, well, it's just not nice to just go to other people's house and...
- ...demolish their living room? Eat their food? - Wendy and Dipper added - Why do you even need food, man? You're a ghost!
- I miss it! - he suddenly cried - And... I eat when I'm nervous.
- There, there...
Mabel moved closer to him, and placed her arm where she thought the ghost had his back, and gently patted it.
- I know it can be hard to... uh, die. - Mabel looked in confusion at Wendy and Dipper - We've all b... been through it...? Will be, at least.
Her confidence was sapping away; this was not a preschooler that had his toy stolen or had to go to the dentist for the first time. But nevertheless, Mabel refused to help this soul, even if it lacked a body.
- I can't! - he cried again, letting the jar of pickles smash on the ground - I don't even want to haunt you, but I have to be here, see?
And with that, he whipped out, from an invisible pocket of his ephemeral coat, a piece of what looked like paper. he lay it on the table, partially covered in bits of food he has managed to gauge on, and went back to crying his milky eyes.
- What on Earth is that...?
- My haunting contract. - the ghost replied - See, it states I have to haunt in this place.
With some reluctance, Dipper took the simultaneously old and futuristic looking piece of slightly translucent paper and tried reading through it. And as Wendy, Mabel's and Dipper's eyes moved from top to bottom, suddenly, the same idea popped into their mind.
- I think we need an expert.
The ghost currently identifying himself as Capybara Porcupine was delighted when an old man presented him not just his old contract with dozens lines scratched off, but several additional pieces of paper clipped to it, saying that he won't have to bother the nice living beings in the place he was bound to haunt.
He produced a silvery, glowing pen from his pocket, pressed it to the paper, and just when he was about to sign it, he looked once again at the wide smile of the man in front of him. The golden tooth shone as much as his pen, and nearly as much as the light reflecting in the man's square glasses.
- Are you sure this will work?
- Of course! You can trust the best lawyer for mythical beings in town! - Grunkle Stan laughed joyfully, pushing the paper hastily closer to the ghost.
No sooner than the ghost ended signing the document, he burst into flames, leaving only an odd-smelling scent in the air where he once was.
- Is he gone? Like, for sure? - Dipper asked, leaning out from behind Grunkle Stan's back.
- Yep, should've asked me first, kiddo. - he stood up, grabbed the slightly burned paper and begun rolling it - No matter which century, folks never read the whole thing. Have I told you how I once was able to sell part of Washington's monument that way?
- Grunkle Stan, where did you exactly sent him...? - Wendy asked, taking the document from his hands.
- Oh, I just added a bit of this, and a bit of that... - he spoke - I mean, the fool hasn't signed the contract, so I just rolled with it, and sent him to Honolulu.
- Grunkle Stan, it says "Hell"! - Mabel shouted, pointing him to the printed piece of paper.
- Does it? - Stan took it, squinted his eyes, corrected his glasses, and shrugged - Oh, well, blame the auto-correct thingy, he was annoying you anyway.
Stan took his fake briefcase, ripped the equally fake suit he was forced to wear, revealing a Hawaiian shirt underneath it, and reached for the exit, followed by Mabel.
- Call me if you'll need my legal help again! I'll send you guys a bill via a woodpecker.
And with that, Dipper and Wendy were left alone in their house, with their ground floor covered in bits of food, ectoplasm, and with a smell of sulphur around the sofa.
- I'm gonna grab a mop. - Dipper started
- And I'll take the flamethrower, good thing this sofa was cheap.
- ... and that's how I came here! They were some delightful people, they were. Say, do you have more of that rotten fish, it is delicious! - the ghost cheered, accepting another plate of the regional delicacies.
It took the locals some time to adjust to their new spectral visitor, but after learning that for a foreigner he had quite the stomach, they've accepted him as one of their own, and enjoyed listening to his stories from the future. They even found him a nice deserted tower to live in, ensuring that it will bring even more tourists to the village of Hell, Norway, even at the time of year when it freezes over.