Morning broke on the valley town of Gravity Falls, Oregon.

Stanford "Ford" Pines woke up and looked at the attic ceiling. It had been a little over a week since he, his twin brother Stan and college friend Fiddleford McGucket had moved there, and into the house that Ford had had built with part of his research grant money.

Ford sat up and stretched. He had come to Gravity Falls to study the anomalies that he had heard/read were there—but so far nothing more unusual than finding out some things about his old college roommate and that someone had mysteriously left a pie on their front porch.

"Stan, are you—"

Ford turned to greet his twin brother in the bed on the other side of the nightstand, but there was no one there. The bed looked as if it had been hastily made.

"Huh. I guess you are awake. "Ford mumbled, rubbing his eyes and reaching for the horn-rimmed glasses on the nightstand. After putting them on, he got up and got dressed.

Leaving the room, he closed the door and went down the short flight of steps, where he found himself in the hallway. He smiled when he heard the strains of a banjo.

Walking down the hall a ways, he knocked on the first door to the right. "Fiddleford? "

"Be there directly." Came a voice with a distinct southern twang to it. After a moment the door opened, and a young man put a pair of rimless spectacles on and looked up at him. "Good morning, Stanford." He said cheerfully. "I was just gettin' the ol' juices flowin'—I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

Ford chuckled. "Not at all, Fiddleford. I was just wondering if you'd seen my brother. "

The smaller young man looked thoughtful a moment. "No—haven't seen him, but I did hear footsteps in the hall about ten or fifteen minutes ago. "

Suddenly the clattering of dishes came to Ford's ear. "Never mind, I think I know where he is. "

His friend smiled. "I hope nothin' too drastic is happenin' down there. I'll be down in two shakes. "

"See you then. "

Ford went down the stairs, past the living room of the house and to the kitchen.

His identical twin brother Stanley stood at the stove with his back to Ford. Ford thought it wise not to surprise his brother when he was at the stove, which might be on. He went and sat at the kitchen table.

"Dum-dum-dum…cookin' up some pancakes…" Stanley hummed, when he turned with a pan held in his oven-mitted hand. "Oh, hey, Sixer. Didn't hear you come down. "

"Didn't want to disturb you." Ford said with a smile. "What got into you this morning? "

Stan shrugged and slid the large pancake in the pan he held onto the plate waiting on the table. "Well, you and Fidds have been cooking everything so far—I figured I should do something around here. "

Ford shook his head. "Stan, I couldn't do anything without you or Fiddleford's help. "

"Yeah, well—I wanted to make breakfast anyway." Stan said as he poured more batter into the pan. "Sorry—pancakes're all I know how to make. "

"Mmm. Sounds mighty good to me. "

The twins looked to see Fiddleford, now dressed, enter the kitchen. He went around the other side of the table to sit, then realized the table wasn't completely set. "Oh—let me get the plates out for you. "

"Actually, kid, I've got the other plates over here." Stan told him. "You can get out the silverware, though. "Stanley informed him as he lifted the edge of the pancake in the pan to see if it was ready to turn.

"Sure thing, Stan. "

Ford watched his smaller friend leave the table to go to the silverware drawer. Suddenly his waking mind remembered something.

"Oh, hey, I have something I wanted to show you both. "

Both Stan and Fiddleford turned and looked over their shoulders at Ford.

"Really? "

"Ya do? "

"Yup. You guys keep doing what you're doing, I'm going to go and get it. "

Ford ran back upstairs. Stan and Fiddleford looked at each other quizzically.

After a bit, Ford came back down the stairs. Stan and Fiddleford noted that he had a thick book in the crook of his arm with a dark reddish-brown cover and gold tabs on the corners.

Coming back to the kitchen, Ford placed the book on the table. Both of his housemates immediately noted the six-fingered hand silhouette done in gold leaf on the front, a numeral one in black ink in the center. Stan couldn't help but grin a bit—Ford had obviously traced one of his own six-fingered hands.

"Wow." Fiddleford said, looking the book cover over. "That's a right fancy book, Ford. What's it for? "

Ford sighed. "Well, it was meant to be a journal of my findings here in Gravity Falls, "he said, a disappointed tone in his voice. "But so far there's been nothing unusual here that I've observed."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Ford, we've been here what—four days? What—you think that all of the anoma—whatsits are going to jump out of the wood work now that you're here?"

"I still haven't retrieved the cameras I set up out in the woods the other day." Fiddleford offered. "Perhaps one of them caught something."

Ford sighed. "I sure hope so. I'd hate to think that all of this was a waste of time and my grant money. "