There was silence after Mabel's declaration.

The man gave a nervous laugh. "You're joking. This is a joke, right?"

Mabel and Dipper exchanged a glance.

He slumped to sit on the floor with them. "Okay, you're not joking. Okay. 2017." He stared at a dinosaur for a moment, then abruptly jumped back to his feet and started pacing. "I'm not even in the same century! What the hell?" He aimed a kick at the sap next to him, submerging his foot, then fell over in his attempts to pull himself free. He lay there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm in the future."

Despite the severity of the situation, Mabel let out a little snort of laughter. "Yeah, that must be pretty awesome."

"Don't know about that yet." He sat up and yanked his foot free. "Can we get out of here? I'm kinda tired of all this sap."

Mabel nodded knowingly. "Oh yeah, completely understandable. You were stuck in that stuff for like . . . thirty-five-ish years."

He groaned. "Please, don't remind me."

Dipper led the way out of the cavern and through the tunnel; the man took notice of the first human skeleton and began to studiously ignore the floor afterward. There was a bit of a dilemma when it came to getting above ground, what with the shortness of their rope, but after waiting around in a geyser for long enough they were shot into the air like a trio of bullets. The church was further destroyed by their landing, but Dipper didn't think anyone would care too much.

"So," Mabel said to the man, pushing herself off a broken bench. "I'm Mabel. What's your name?"

"Uh, Stan. Stanford. Stanford Pines."

Mabel let out a dramatic gasp, and Dipper's mouth dropped open. "You're a Pines?"

Stanford Pines scowled, hoisting himself out of the coffin he'd landed in. "Yeah, you got a problem."

"We have the same last name!" Mabel exclaimed. "Maybe we're related."

Stanford frowned. "Come to think of it, you guys look kind of like . . ." He trailed off, then turned to Dipper, who was just getting up. "What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't." For the second time in two days. "It's Dipper Pines."

Stanford raised his eyebrows. "Huh. Weird name."

"It's a nickname."

"Oh, that explains it. I thought your parents just had weird taste, or something."

They left the church with aching limbs and splinters. This time they managed to remember the way from the church to the town, so they made it there no problem.

"You're really sticky, aren't you Stanford?" Mabel commented.

"Just call me Stan. And yes, I am really sticky—I need a shower. You're pretty sticky too, ya know." He gestured to her arms, which were covered in sap. More of it was on her face and in her hair; Dipper was in about the same state. Stan was much worse off than either of them, though, having been buried in the stuff for decades.

"We can go to our hotel and shower," Dipper decided. "And I guess we should get you a change of clothes too. That can't be comfortable. Anywhere."

Things were quite normal when they reached town. People shopping, teenagers being rowdy, older townsfolk staring at them—wait, what was that all about?

An old couple pointed at Stan and whispered. The enormous red-haired man they'd seen the other day stopped in his tracks and just stood there. Maybe it was all the sap?

"Hey Stan," Dipper muttered. "Who were you before you got stuck down there?"

"Uh . . . Well, I ran a little place off in the woods called the Murder Hut. Don't really like the name that much, now that I think about it. Too cheesy."

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance. Dipper frowned. "Do you mean that old shack to the northwest?"

"Yeah, probably. I bet it looks even worse than way back when . . ." He trailed off and didn't start talking again.

Hm . . . Stan must've been pretty well known around town to elicit this kind of response. He did run the local tourist trap. Dipper pulled out his notepad and pen as they were passing Soos's shop and wrote STANFORD PINES at the top of the first clean page in large letters. Under it he listed in bullet points, Last name is "Pines", Looks like Dad, Ran the Murder Hut, and— "When did you get stuck in the sap?"

Stan sighed. "Mid 1982. What month is it now?"

"June."

"I got stuck later this month. They didn't change the calendar while I was gone, did they?"

"I don't think so . . ." Dipper scribbled down this new information.

"We're here!" Mabel announced.

Dipper looked up. "Since when were we going to the mall?"

Mabel gave him a weird look. "We're here to get Stan clothes."

"There were other clothing stores we passed along the way . . ." Dipper sighed. "Y'know what, never mind. We're already here, might as well."

Finding a clothing store was easy enough. Unfortunately, they had to guess Stan's clothing sizes, since he didn't remember his and there were no changing rooms. At one point, Stan checked a price tag, and—

"HOLY— Ten bucks for a ratty t-shirt?"

Dipper and Mabel stared, and she was the first to speak. "Uh . . . yeah?"

"That's—" He sighed. "Right. Future"

After this incident, they purchased their stuff (the cashier seemed displeased with the stickiness of their money) and managed to get back to the hotel with less "is it just me or is that the Murder Hut guy" stares and more "why the heck is that man covered in sap" stares.

"I get to go first, right?" Stan asked once they had entered their room.

"Oh, totally," Mabel agreed. "Being that sticky is only great when it has something to do with sugar."

Stan gave her a weird look, then sighed, shook his head, and entered the bathroom. A minute later there was a cry of, "How does this shower work?"

Mabel laughed, and Dipper grinned. The moment the water was on, he whipped out his phone, regretting it a moment later when he remembered how sticky his hands were. He scrolled through his contacts anyway.

"Who are you calling?" Mabel asked.

"Dad," was Dipper's short reply. "I'm going to ask him is we have a relative called Stanford Pines." He held if phone to his ear and waited. It was picked up almost immediately.

"Dipper! How you doin'?"

"Pretty good, you?"

"It's a bit quiet without you two, but we're doing fine. Is your sister there?"

"Hi!"

"She says hi. Anyway," he rushed on before there was a reply, "I wanted to ask you if we're related to someone called Stanford Pines?"

There was silence for a moment. ". . . Ah. I haven't heard from him in a while."

Dipper grinned. "But we are related to one?"

"Yes, he would've been your great uncle—have you found him?"

". . . Maybe."

"If you're unsure about it, the surest way to tell is his fingers."

"His fingers?" He turned to Mabel, who looked confused.

"He has six on each hand."

Dipper raised his eyebrows. "Okay, cool, we'll get back to you on that, bye!" He quickly hung up. "All right," he told Mabel. "The good news is, we're related to Stanford Pines. The bad news is, I don't think this is him. Dad says he's supposed to have six fingers on each hand."

"Huh. I don't think Stan has that many fingers."

Dipper nodded. "Yeah. Maybe he had them removed, or something."

"Yeah, maybe . . ."

Once Stan emerged from the bathroom looking much cleaner and had plopped himself into a chair, Mabel hopped in, leaving Dipper alone with him. He decided to test his hypothesis.

"So, Stanford . . ."

Stan looked around quickly. "Huh? Oh, yeah. That's me."

Okay, that definitely wasn't right.

"I thought I saw some scars on your hands earlier." Come on . . .

Stan raised his eyebrows, then lifted his hands in front of him and turned them slowly. "Uhhh, nope. No scars here."

Dipper winced. This wasn't good—he was stuck alone in a room with a guy impersonating his great uncle. He could be dangerous . . . but it was still kinda strange how he looked so similar to Dad. Well, might as well dive in. "Oh, um, must've been my imagination. Anway, I just got off the phone with my dad."

Stan looked confused. "Yeah?"

"And apparently Mabel and I are related to a Stanford Pines. He would be our great uncle, in fact. However . . ." Stan was beginning to look nervous, so he trudged on. ". . . According to Dad, Stanford's supposed to have six fingers. So who exactly are you supposed to be?" Dipper was pretty sure he had sounded awesome just then. He was like some kind of detective who had found the culprit. Or something like that.

Stan definitely wasn't comfortable anymore—not that he'd looked comfortable in the first place, he just looked less so now. "Look," he said. "There's—there's a lot going on you might not understand, okay? Just—" He ran a hand through his hair, and immediately had to pull it out to avoid getting tangled up. "I guess . . . You're family, so you deserve to know.
He gave a heavy sigh. "I'll . . . I'll explain when Mabel gets out here."

Dipper furrowed his brow—was this man who wasn't Stanford really related to them?—but nodded. "Good."

There was silence for a while, and then Stan seemed to find his voice again. "What are you two doing in this town anyway?"

Dipper contemplated answering, and in the end decided it couldn't hurt. "We're investigating the paranormal." He glared at Stan suspiciously. "You're not some kind of shapeshifter, are you?"

"What?" Stan spluttered. "Of course I'm not a shapeshifter! What kind of question is that?"

". . . In this context, I think it's a pretty good one."

"Yeah, right."

There was more silence, but it abruptly ended about fifteen minutes later (though it felt longer) when Mabel burst from the bathroom with a shout of, "I'm back!"

Stan shot to his feet, and Dipper quickly followed. Was he trying to escape? But no, Stan let out a sigh and sank back into his seat. Mabel gave both of them a weird look, and she and Dipper sat at the same time.

"So?" she said.

"He said he'd explain everything."

She frowned. "Everything of what?"

Dipper sent Stan a glare. "That's your cue. Spill the beans, Stan—if that is your real name."

"All right, all right—and Stan is my real name, thank you very much." He sighed. "I don't actually know how to explain this . . . Are you two into weird sciencey things?"

"Dipper's the nerdy one," Mabel explained immediately. "If there's lots of science, he'll love it."

Dipper opened his mouth to protest, then paused. ". . . True."

"So would you believe me if I told you there's a gigantic portal in the basement of the Murder Hut?"

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance, and he answered. "Probably not."

"I know it sounds, crazy, I—" He ran a hand through his hair— "I didn't believe it either at first.

A suspicion lurking in Dipper's subconscious rose to the surface. "Who told you about the portal? Who built it?"

Stan released a breath. "My twin brother. Stanford Pines."

When Dipper looked at his sister, she had a look of astonishment on her face. He probably did too, but he couldn't help thinking it might be a lie, in spite of all the evidence that it wasn't. "How can we be sure?"

"You can be sure because—" He paused. "I don't know. I guess you'll just have to take my word for it."

Dipper pulled out his phone again. "Wait a second."

While Dipper scrolled through his contacts list in search of his dad, again, Stan was looking at the cell phone with a look of utter befuddlement. Dipper realized he probably had no idea what it was, and Mabel took it upon herself to explain it to him.

"That's a cell phone," she said matter-of-factly. "You use them to call people."

Stan continued to stare. "Where's its cord?"

"Oh, it doesn't have one. They're also called mobile phones, 'cause, y'know, they're mobile."

"Huh. So they're like walkie-talkies?"

Mabel looked thoughtful. "I guess they are."

"What other weird gadgets do you have now?"

Meanwhile, Dipper had found his dad's number and was waiting impatiently for him to pick up. When at last he did, Dipper blurted out his question with no preamble. "Did Stanford have a twin?"

Dad sounded surprised. "He did, but we don't talk about him much. No one has any idea where he is, haven't seen him in years. I never met him, actually. Have you found him too?"

"Just a sec." Dipper covered the speaker and turned to where Mabel was now showing an absolutely fascinated Stan her tablet. "Hey, is Stan short for anything?"

"Yeah, Stanley."

"Okay, thanks." He uncovered his phone. "Was Stanford's twin Stanley, by any chance?"

". . . Yes. Dipper, what's going on?"

Dipper glanced at Stan. "It's complicated and you probably wouldn't believe me so I'll explain later, I'm just gonna hang up now, bye!"

"Mason Pines—"

He tapped the end call button with a loud breath. Dad was going to kill him later.

Stan was peering over Mabel's shoulder now while she played Candy Crush, looking downright speechless. Dipper cleared his throat and he looked up, appearing a bit dazed.

"So Stan . . . would you mind showing us this portal?

"What—? Oh, of course."

Mabel glanced up briefly, then went back to her game. "Can it wait till I'm finished? I'm halfway to beating my high score.

Dipper snatched the tablet away with a grin. "Sorry, Mabel, halfway isn't good enough. Seriously, it would take you like, half an hour to beat that."

She sighed. "All right portal it is."

They dropped their clothes off at the laundromat, and then they were on their way.

"So, Stan . . ." Dipper started conversationally. "Why did you decide to call it the Murder Hut?"

Stan shrugged. "Because is sounded cool, I guess."

Dipper frowned. "What, really? That's all?" He paused. "Yeah, I get that."

They entered the woods then and continued on more warily, on the lookout for stray gnomes. None were spotted, much to Mabel's relief. Stan had no idea what they were looking out for.

They arrived at last at the Murder Hut. The hinges and floorboards sounded just as terrible as Dipper remembered.

Stan stared around with a possibly regretful look on his face. "This place really went to waste," he muttered. "What happened to all the stuff?"

"No one knows," Mabel said with a shrug. "Candy and Grenda told us it disappeared." She grinned. "Kinda spooky, isn't it?"

"Eh, it was probably just stolen. Stan, where's the portal?"

"Killjoy," Mabel muttered, but Dipper and Stan ignored her.

"Here." Stan led them to the vending machine with the sad bag of chips inside it, punched in a code, and stood back while it opened. He grinned at their looks of amazement. "I know, pretty cool, right? I installed the vending machine myself." He started down the stairs, and Dipper snapped his gaping mouth shut and pulled Mabel along.

They made their way down the steps to an elevator, where Stan put in another code with complicated characters (Dipper did his best to memorize them), and hesitated when the doors opened. "I'm not sure this is structurally sound . . ."

Mabel peered around Stan into the elevator. "Hm . . . Well, might as well try it." She hopped inside and turned to face Dipper and Stan's horrified faces. "Oh, come on! How else is Stan going to prove there's a giant portal under here?"

Stan hesitated a moment longer before stepping in. Dipper looked even more horrified. "What? It's not like I haven't done more dangerous things before.

Dipper stood there for a while longer, Mabel and Stan staring at him cajolingly, and finally joined them when he determined that the elevator (probably) wasn't going to drop them all to their deaths.

It creaked and groaned the whole way down, sending unpleasant chills up and down Dipper's spine. At one point there was an unpleasant jolt, and he was sure they were going to crash abruptly to the ground. He was out as soon as the doors shuddered open. Stan and Mabel were right behind him, and they all took a moment to recover from their traumatizing journey before taking a look around.

The room they were in held a multitude of strange, non-functional machines which Dipper could only guess the purposes of. So where was the portal Stan was talking about? He pulled out his phone for light and took a better look; there was a door on the other side of the room next to a desk. He looked at Stan and gestured to the door. "Is the portal through there?"

Stan shrugged. "See for yourself."

Dipper narrowed his eyes suspiciously, though he was pretty much convinced Stan was telling the truth. "Keep an eye on him, Mabel." He marched over to the door, ignoring Mabel's little, "Okie-dokie!" and, with some difficulty, pulled it open. He stared out into the darkness beyond; it was too dark to see the other side of the new room with just his phone. He took a couple steps in, stretching his arm as far as he could, and the light hit something metal and shiny. He let out a little gasp of surprise, then looked over his shoulder. "Come on, Mabel. And Stan," he added after a moment of deliberation. His voice echoed through the cavern. It had to be enormous.

With Mabel and Stan now following him and his confidence boosted (a little) he strode farther in. The metal thing came into view—a wall? No, it was more like an upside down triangle . . . And there was a hole in the center . . . He moved his phone up, and up, and craned his neck to see the top. He could barely make it out in the gloom.

Stan had not been kidding when he called the portal gigantic.

Sorry it's been such a long time! I've got a lot of issues with writer's block. Hope you enjoyed, please review if it's not any trouble!

-Quiet Leaf