Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls!

Title: Roll the Chips

Summary: Ford learns the hard way that card games are Mabel's territory.

...

"Whatcha doin', sweetie?"

Ford forces the endearment out. He's not really used to saying them. He's still a bit surprised that Stan uses them of his own volition- especially with Mabel. Knucklehead, he got. Kid makes sense. Pumpkin sounds alien coming from his tongue, the gruff voice shaping the syllables almost seeming to shake some very thick layers of rust off to do so.

Mabel glances up from the small table she's set up. Waddles was snoring on the nearby chair. "I'm shufflin' cards!"

"I see that." He sets a hand on the back of the metal chair. "Is this one of Stan's little chores for you?"

"Ha! Oh, please, Great Uncle Ford." Mabel waves the notion off. "Give Stan some credit. Our chores are way harder and humiliating than this."

Ford shifts stiffly. "The chipper way you say that concerns me."

She sets the stack down with a small smile. "Eh, what can I say? I take after him."

The old man sucks in a breath, trying to figure out the best route to take. Normally, he'd go into genetics and the old nature versus nurture argument, but he doubted Mabel was into that type of thing. "You... wanna play some cards?"

Mabel's eyes dart up to him, widening just a little. They almost look glassy as she smiles. "You mean it?"

"That's why you're shuffling, isn't it?" he asks. "You like to play?"

"Mmhmm!"

"Then let's play something." Ford slides into the seat across from her, patting Waddles for good measure. "Kids still like go fish, right?"

"Ford," Mabel says, getting up to get a box of crackers out of the cupboards. "You insult me."

"What're you doing?"

"Getting our poker chips. Duh."

"What?"

She began to lay the them out in tiny rows, scattering tiny crumbs all over. "Grunkle Stan says he's less likely to get in trouble if we use crackers."

Ford leans back in his chair, calling for his brother. "Stanley!?"

"I'm comin', I'm comin'!" Stan grumbles, slowly shuffling his way into the room. He stops when he sees them at the table, scanning them dryly. "Got yerself a new victim, eh?"

"You bet I did, Grunkle Stan!"

"Stanley," Ford insists. "Why does she know how to use poker chips?"

"They're crackers, Poindexter, not chips." Stan slips into the kitchen, returning with the gallon of milk. "And don't look at me. She practically begged me to teach 'er."

"It's true!" Mabel chirps, smiling just a bit too wide. "I'm a card fiend."

"She waits there every few days, trying to get new prey." He spins the cap off to take a long drink straight from the jug. "She's like a venus cardtrap."

Ford's face fell. "Oh, dear. Uh, Stanley? You know I've never really been all that good at these things..." Ford noticed that Mabel's eyes had lit up at his admission. "Maybe you should-"

"Nuh-uh." Stan shakes his head, tapping his chest with his fist. "Take it from me; don't bet yer soul. I owe her half of mine."

"I was being generous," she deflected, sprawling the cards out on the table. "Pick a game, Great Uncle Ford. It's all the same to me."

"I've made a terrible mistake, haven't I?"

Stan pats his shoulder. "Yup. Good luck, sucker."

Author's Note: I dunno, I just enjoy Card Goddess Mabel, but I also know like 0 of all the card games. I know no cards ya'll.

-Mandaree1