Somehow the Mystery Shack hadn't flooded yet, but they didn't know how long it was going to stay that way. The rain had been pouring down for almost a week straight and everyone except for Waddles seemed to be ready to throw themselves into the bottomless pit. The only thing stopping them from doing so was a game of Monopoly which had gone on for far too long.
Dipper had been sitting with his legs crossed on the floor between Mable and Wendy as the two, along with Stan, played that horrendous game while he continued to read the book with the sixth fingered hand on the cover. That was, until the phone rang.
When the ringing of the phone vibrated from downstairs, Dipper was the first and only one to head downstairs to the phone on the desk. It, like everything in the store was covered in a fine layer of dust. Truthfully, as much as he liked the Mystery Shack Gang, he had realized that they were not a group who played Monopoly in a civilized manner.
"Mystery Shack employee Dipper Pines speaking, what can I do for you?" Dipper's voice rang out through the empty first floor of the building. Maybe the Pizza Delivery guy hadn't been able to find the Mystery Shack in the woods it was located in, so he'd called to figure out exactly where to go?
"Dipper Pines of the Mystery Shack, please pass on the information that you and your comrade's flight will leave this afternoon at twelve. Don't be late." The phone line clicked dead.
"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper croaked out, already heading up the stairs. He was more confused than anything and was already coming up with hypotrophies on what could have just happened. Was Uncle Stan sending them home? Was he taking them on a vacation? Was he taking soos and leaving them to suffer through the hurricane?
Before Dipper could enter the room a scream hurtled through the house; which caused a glass figure of a In the hallway to crack. Dipper walked through the doorway, stopping when he saw what this horrible, horrible game had done to his friends. Wendy was screeching from atop dipper's bed, swinging her belt around above her head with Mable on her shoulders.
Stan was curled up on the ground-wait a minute- Was he crying? Stan was crying, yet only pure hatred could be seen in his eyes as he clutched a pen so tightly this knuckles had gone white. Monopoly had ruined them.
"Uh, Uncle Stan? Someone just called about a plane flight leaving at twelve?" scratching the back of his neck awkwardly he walked over to his own bed, sitting down on the unsurprisingly hard matress. It was one of the only things that hadn't tried to eat, maul, dismember, or kill Dipper at least once. He liked to think of himself as a hardened warrior like Jordan the Vampire Whisperer, who had made an appearance in his and Wendy's last movie marathon.
"Hmm? It wasn't the police, right? " Stan groaned, cracking his back as he sat up and. "You three go get a bag together. We're ditching this joint and taking a little trip. "