This is what happens when myself and E350 get creative. We make a poorly-thought-out collab.

...It seemed like a good idea at the time.


Prologue

July 2012

It had rained heavily the night before, and the surrounding woodland was damp and misty.

Sam Scotford drove down the muddy back-road, humming to himself as the early morning sun filled the interior of the white Ford V8. He scanned the sides of the road – he was looking for something.

Sam was a largish man, broad-shouldered and tall, with fair skin and brown hair that reached a short way down his neck. He wore a faded fireman's jacket over a white t-shirt and somewhat ragged jeans, heavy boots on his feet. He wore sunglasses – not because of any affinity for shades, but because he happened to be driving in the direction of the sun.

He was on his way to a meeting.

He turned a corner in the road. A black Tucker Torpedo was parked across the road, a man leaning against the side. Sam braked and pulled over, stopping his car in a small mud pile. He jumped out, splashing into the sludge as he walked jovially over to the other man, who narrowed his eyes in annoyance.

"You're half-an-hour late, Scotford," sniffed the man.

"Maybe you're just half-an-hour early, Gordon," shrugged Sam.

Gordon was a pale, skinny man with short black hair. He was unusually tall in stature. He wore a pale grey suit with a blue tie – a rapier was sheathed at his waist. Narrowed grey eyes gazed into Sam's.

"So," he grunted, "I suppose by now you have the gist of what's going on here?"

"Something about that one town, right?" shrugged Sam.

Gordon pulled a map out of his suit jacket, opening it up on the bonnet of his car. He winced somewhat as Sam leaned over him.

"Gravity Falls," nodded Gordon. "Everyone's favourite pain in the backside."

"So what is it this time?" asked Sam. "Because I've told you, we don't actually have any authority over the gnomes..."

"I don't care about those stumpy gits," snapped Gordon, "and neither does Winter. This is about the Morrigan."

There was a long silence.

"Come again?" said Sam.

"The Morrigan," repeated Gordon, his tone somewhat testy. "The Morrigan has turned up in Gravity Falls."

Sam looked down at the map, his face falling.

"Does anybody else know about this?" he asked.

"Difficult to say," replied Gordon. "Outside our respective benefactors, hopefully no-one. Hopefully."

"So," mused Sam, "What do we do?"

"Isn't it obvious?" snapped Gordon. "We kill her, Scotford. We're basically hitmen after all, even if you keep forgetting that."

"We're not hitmen," protested Sam, "we're..."

"...hired agents ordered to deal with living problems on a permanent basis," interrupted Gordon, "Otherwise known as hitmen. God, Scotford, do you have to be so annoying?"

"Only to you, Gordon," replied Sam, wryly.

"Oh, joy," muttered Gordon. "Right, we're going to have to scope her out, lest we accidentally get somebody who happens to look like our charge – again. Which, I might add, was your fault..."

"I was trying to save the guy!" protested Sam.

"You ended up pulling him out into a six lane..."

Gordon groaned and pinched his nose, deciding not to pursue the argument.

"Not important right now," he said. "We'll split up – cover more ground, plus I don't have to deal with you as much. I'll handle the town, you scout out the woodlands. You'll like it, you can mingle with the other animals."

"I'll have to ask the boss," reminded Sam. "We're not usually on the same team..."

"The Morrigan is not a usual issue, Scotford," replied Gordon. "Get a line to your benefactors and meet me in Gravity Falls. Don't get lost."

He turned to his car.

"Ugh, who am I kidding?" he muttered, "I'll be lucky if I ever see you again."

"I cherish these moments too, Gordon," replied Sam brightly.

Gordon shot Sam a very nasty glare as he climbed into the driver's seat of his car. With the roar of an engine, he drove off into the distance.

Sam shook his head, reaching into his pocket and producing a phone. He pressed a button and held it up to his ear.

"Yep, it's me...you already know what Gordon wants? ...okay, sounds good, I'll get to it...thank you, my lady."

He hung up and walked over to his car, climbing in and putting the key into the ignition. The radio turned on – Sam grinned.

"Well," he said, "Gravity Falls, here we come."

He drove off into the distance, singing along to the radio.

"I've been everywhere, man,
I've been everywhere, man,
Crossed the deserts bare, man,
Breathed the mountain air, man,
Of travel I've had my share, man,
I've been everywhere...


JO. XQYXPE FP LRQ LC LCCFZB RKQFI JLKAXV. TB PELRIA YLQE YB EBOB YV QEBK.


AN: There is no possible way this can be bad news. No sir.