Mabel got the job with ease. Spending every summer with your great uncle who happened to be a professional conman definitely had it's perks. She knew just what to say to her customers to close a sale. Even the ones who were troublesome, and spent most of the time bickering about the size, or texture of the clothing. Some would even make snide comments about Mabel's appearance, and she always retorted in a positive way. When you don't let bad customers get to you, working in retail wasn't so bad.

Her manager, Cheyenne, was impressed with her ability to turn a customer's frown upside down, as she put it. Always laughing and socializing with them at the end of the sale she made. Cheyenne noticed an exchange of phone numbers and Blog-Space information, which was against store policy. She made a mental note to talk to Mabel about that later.

She wasn't a hundred-percent comfortable with hiring the teenager at first. The last few that she hired almost got her fired for missing merchandise, and mouthing off to customers. Oh, she watched this one like a hawk indiscriminately, but after the first couple of weeks she decided that hiring the bubbly girl was a good move. She got a slew of emails from customers who loved Mabel. Some even stated that they wish they could take her home instead. A bit creepy, she must admit, but she figured it was meant to be charming.

Cheyenne was working one of the registers when Mabel bounced up to her to ask to be released for her lunch break. She nodded at her, and told her to take the rest of the day off instead as it was slow. "And don't forget to pick up your paycheck!" Mabel nodded and headed to the back room to gather her items, wave goodbye and headed out the door.

As soon as she was outside, Mabel let her demeanor fall; her shoulders slump and she let out a nice, drawn in sigh of relief. While she loved her job, it was exhausting. At least talking to people was. She couldn't fathom just how stupid customers could be before taking this job. Once, it took her a full twenty minutes to convince an elderly woman that their back room was not a warehouse where they have loads of stock waiting to be unboxed. There was maybe an extra package or two of extra orders that needed to be mailed back, and the rest was paper rolls for the registers, and cleaning supplies. Why did everyone think otherwise?

She trudged through the summer heat to the car she and Dipper shared; A '92 sported the ugliest shade of teal blue Mabel's eyes have ever had the unpleasantness of gazing at. Maybe at one time it shone brilliantly, but now, it looked weathered. The paint was peeling in random spots; the mirrors were crooked and wouldn't move when you used the knob inside of the car, so you had to press against the window with your bare hands to make sure your line of sight was visible. The back windows didn't roll down at all, and the two front passenger ones were missing, so James had ordered plastic sheets that snapped on and off for them. The speedometer was off by five miles forward, their gas gauge didn't move at all, so they manually had to figure out how much gas to use and when to fill the car up before they got stranded. James had placed a full gas tanker in the trunk for just in case. When they first bought the car, the back left tail light was busted, so they had to shell out money to replace the bulb and casing.

Mabel got in and adjusted herself in the rock hard seat. "Piece of junk. You weren't worth the six-hundred bucks Dipper and I combined for you."

The interior wasn't much better: the seats long lost their padding, ceiling looking like it would fall apart at any time, holes dug into the floor of the drivers side near the gas pedal. Of all the vehicles listed near their area on Greg's Listings, it was the only one that was under a thousand dollars.

They had bought it from a woman down in Oakland who looked to be in her late thirties who explained how special this car was to her, and how it was her first "baby", etc. The twins father, James, who was with them managed to talk her down from the original price of $800 to $600.

Mabel wondered if Stan taught him how swindle people like he taught her. Or maybe it was just in their family genes given how in-famous her great-grandmother was on the east coast for her psychic evaluations. They were told by James to not say a word; that he would do the talking. He and the lady hit it off pretty well. Telling stories about when they were young, and where they graduated from.

She and Dipper, in the meantime, looked the car over, and took turns sitting in the drivers seat. The best part was that it wasn't a stick shift, although the lever that stuck up in the middle between the two front seats was a bit stiff. The woman had claimed to take good care of the car. Looking around, the twins determined that was far from the truth. They took turns driving it around the block with James in the passenger seat, and both stated that they loved it afterwards. Despite the car's issues with the meters and gages. It was because of this that the woman was willing to go as low as she did, and that no one would buy it from her in the past. They didn't want to take the time to fix it up. Mabel didn't really blame them. Unless cars were a huge part of your life, you weren't going to spend thousands in repairs for a piece of junk car.

But they needed something to get them around town, and their parents grew tired of driving them around everywhere now that they were both old enough to get their licenses, which they both passed with flying colors, even though Mabel nearly gave her instructor whiplash near the end of her course run. Other than that, and the parallel parking part, she got perfect scores. Dipper, naturally, got a clean score of one-hundred on his. Mabel made him promise her to teach her the magic of parallel parking. She would need it if she was going to be visiting San Francisco when she got her fashion career off the ground. The city was notorious for it's near ninety-degree slopes, and need for weird parking.

Mabel pulled her paycheck out of her purse and grinned with delight. She really wanted to open it and see what she made for her first two weeks working, but her mom, Kara, made her promise to wait until later tonight so that she could get a couple of pictures of Mabel with it. Avoiding temptation, she placed the check back into her purse, started the car up, and drove home.


Mabel pulled up to the curb in front of her house which was their parking spot. Her parents had rightfully claimed the driveway, and the garage was full of storage that didn't need unpacking. She walked across the stone pathway that lead up to the front door. To the right of the door, and in front of the family room window was a small landscape garden that her parents had installed. In the middle was a three-tier koi pond with two waterfalls running down either side meant to filter the water.

"Hello, I'm home!" She called out as she entered onto the linoleum and took off her shoes. "Dipper, are you home?"

The ceiling above her creaked in response and she followed it towards the staircase. Before she step foot on it, an extremely colorful figure landed in front of her, and caught her by surprise.

"Damnit, Dipper!" She began to hit him with her purse. "What have I told you about surprising me like that- what in the name of god are you wearing?"

Her own twin brother stood before her, posing in an incredibly stupid way with both of his arms spread out, and he had this massive, dumb grin on his face. The outfit he wore was atrociously mismatched: A royal purple polo with random shape designs such as yellow circles, and bright blue squiggly lines, and magenta triangles. His pants were checkered white and turquoise and she could swear they resembled hammer pants. The shoes he had on - Dear lord that was an unholy shade of yellow. The legs of the pants ended at his ankles where the blinding high-tops began. Mabel looked up at his face to say something, but stopped when she saw the hat upon his head. The front of it was turquoise while the back was black. On the front of the cap, with bold letter stitching read, "Whacky-Dee's" in bright yellow thread.

Mabel gasped as she stared Dipper dead in his eyes. His features started to falter and he lowered his arms to his side almost in shame. He pursed his lips together before he spoke, "It's stupid, isn't it?"

"You look like a clown."

"I know!" His arms went up in the air, defeated. "But it was the only place I could find work on short notice, and with the weird bus schedule this town has."

"I'm confused. Why do you need to work? Also why would you ever subject yourself to working at Whacky-Dee's?"

Dipper took off his hat, and walked into the living room. He motioned for Mabel to sit next to him on the couch. "I'm not doing this because I need money. I'm doing this because there's someone who I really care about and love who thinks that she needs to work hard all by herself to get into her dream school." Mabel began to protest, but Dipper stopped her short. "Please let me finish, Mabes. Listen, I know that you're gonna try and deny that you need or want help, but I want to do this for you. I don't want you to be neck-deep in student loans, and unable to pay them back when we're older. I mean, look at mom! It's been almost twenty years since she graduated from college, and she still has thousands of dollars to pay back. It's a lot of stress on her!"

Mabel cupped her hands around her brother's, "Dipper, I can't take your money. If you do this, then you need to keep it all. You deserve it, especially since you're working in the food industry, which I hear is another circle of hell."

Dipper laughed, "Yeah, I hear that too, but I am willing to go through with it, if it means you get the future you've dreamed of since you were thirteen. Don't worry about me, it will only be for a couple of years. Please, let me help you."

Mabel sighed, "There's no talking you out of this, is there? Fine, but we need to establish some rules about this, okay? First of all, you are not going to give me all of the money you make. You deserve some of that for all the hard work you're about to put yourself through. Think of a reasonable amount to divide between us, okay?"

"Alright, I'll do that." He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. "Love you, sis."

"Yeah I love you too, you walking disaster. Seriously, Dipper, Whacky-Dees? Why would you want to work at a 90s themed fast food restaurant?"

"Hey I told you, it's the only place close enough to home that I can get to on time and take the bus back and forth." He stood, and headed back up the stairs. Mabel tailed behind.

"What are your hours?" She asked.

"Six in the morning to two in the afternoon." He replied.

"Hey, we almost have the same schedules! Mine are just set thirty minutes ahead of you." Mabel stopped Dipper at the door to his room. "How about we car pool, that way you don't have to waste money on a bus pass?"

"Sounds good to me. I'm gonna go change into something that's less of an eye sore." He turned into his room and shut the door.

"Thank goodness!" Mabel shouted on the other side of the door. She laughed as she heard a muffled 'hey', and went into her own room. "Waddles, I'm back!"

The pig stirred under a heap of blankets on top of Mabel's bed. A snout popped out and sniffed the surrounding area. A squeal rung out into the room, and the blankets got tossed out onto the floor one by one. Waddles got tangled up in them, and ended up rolling onto the floor. He scrambled to get up and ran over to Mabel bounding with excitement.

"Oh, Waddles you goofball!" She knelt down and cuddled up to him. "I missed you too. Hey, wanna go outside? Yeah, you've been stuck inside all day, haven't you?"

Mabel led Waddles downstairs who ran next to her, almost knocking her down. "Alright, calm down. You almost made me trip, silly pig."

Mabel opened the sliding door that led out to the backyard, and Waddles zoomed past her out to his mud hole, and troph. She giggled at his joy, and closed the door. She turned to face Dipper who was retrieving the vacuum out of the broom closet.

"I dented the carpet with my work shoes," he explained. "Gotta get rid of the evidence before mom sees it."

Mabel nodded, and went into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of orange juice. She leaned against the entry way between the kitchen and the dining room and watched Dipper as he attempted to flatten out the carpet.

"I still can't believe you're going to be working at Whacky-Dee's." She laughed.

"Yuck it up now, sis," Dipper turned to point at her. "You'll be thanking me when you graduate from your fancy dress school without having to worry about student loans!" He turned off the vacuum and observed his work. "Think mom will notice?"

"Not if you're lucky." Mabel watched him roll up the cord around the side of the machine, and place it back into the closet. "Thank you again for doing this, bro. It really means a lot."

Dipper smiled at her. "Hey, anything for my favorite sister in the whole wide world!" He wandered into the kitchen, and opened the cabinets above the dishwasher pulling out a stack of plates. "Hey, grab some silverware and napkins? Let's get the table set up so it's one less thing for mom to do when she gets home tonight."

Mabel did as she was told. She followed Dipper's steps around the table, and lined up the silverware to the right of the plates. Dipper came up behind her and encased her in a bear hug. He lifted her up off her feet and she screamed at him to put her down. He obeyed while laughing, and ran off before she could knock him over the head.

'It'll be alright,' he thought to himself, closing the door to his room. 'This is going to work out. It'll end up being the best decision I've ever made.'


It was the worst decision he had ever made in his entire life; and that's saying something for someone who wasn't even twenty yet. Dipper stood at the counter in front of his register with the fakest happy-look he could muster. He hated customers. He hated how stupid they were. He hated how rude they were. He hated how loud their kids were. Most of all, he hated having to speak to them with a fake surfer accent and use 90s lingo.

"Here's your change back, miss. Stay rad!" The woman giggled at him as she stepped aside to wait for her food. He felt so embarrassed just being in the building.

Everything in the place had stereotypical bright colors, and weird shapes plastered on them. The walls, the furniture, the floor, even the kiddie playground. There were paintings of the restaurant's animated mascot, a white rat in pointy sunglasses who uttered the catchphrase, "Rattical!" In every god-forsaken commercial this billion-dollar company flushed out.

Dipper was positive about two things: first, the CEO of this company kept reliving the 90s through rose colored shades; second, they had to have used pictures they found on the internet for the interior design. He was sure that he has seen the weird static and pink circles on an old cartoon before.

Speaking of which, that's all the TVs in the place ever played. From a marketing standpoint, he could understand. But dear lord in heaven the quality of a lot of these shows were just awful. Save for the superhero shows, he thought they were okay. The only complaint he had about them was that a lot of the hero's dialogues were inward thinking and not much interacting with the other characters.

Dipper did his best to drown out the bad acting, and the bright colors. He reminded himself that he was doing this for Mabel. He needed to be strong for her. This was all for her.

"Hey, what's up, Mikey?"

Dipper shook himself out of his thoughts and focused on the customer in front of him. Who happened to go to school with him, and even hang out with him sometimes.

"Hey, Jarrod." He greeted. "Not much here, just working."

"I see," Jarrod eyed Dipper up and down. He bit down on his lips to keep from laughing aloud. "Love the outfit. You trying out for a teenage prop show on the Matinee network?"

Dipper glared at him, "Are you gonna order or what?"

"Yeah, sure," Jarrod turned his attention to the menu above. "I'll take the, uhh… 'Mad Fresh Combo'? The fuck? Who names these?"

"Corporate." Dipper answered bluntly.

"Jesus Christ, you look dead inside. You know, you always hear all the time on the internet about how great the 90s were," Jarrod gestured around the building. "But if it was anything like this, I'm glad that I was born in 2001."

"I agree, now is the Mad Fresh what you want?"

"Sure," Jarrod pulled out his wallet and took out a hundred dollar bill. "Got enough change for this?"

Dipper stared him down. "Really? You're going to pay for an eight dollar meal with a hundred?"

"It's all I got!" Jarrod opened up his wallet and spread out the money inside. "See?"

Dipper snorted at the column of one-hundred dollar bills, and grabbed the one out of Jarrod's hands. "So which bank did you rob?"

Jarrod leaned in over the counter and whispered just enough so that Dipper could here. "I'll tell you if you meet me later tonight. When do you get off work?"

Eyeing him carefully, Dipper handed his friend the change back. "Um, at two? Should I be worried?"

Jarrod sighed, "Look, Michael. Do you really want to spend your summer in this dump making chump change? Or, you wanna make some fast cash?"

"Fast cash doing what exactly?"

"If you meet me across the street over at the food court in the mall, I'll tell you, okay?" Jarrod leaned back and started to walk away. "You got my number. Text me."

"I'll think about it," Dipper assured him. "Um, peace out."

Jarrod's laughter made Dipper's face beat red. He greeted the next customer in his fake accent and realized even more how ridiculous he sounded. He did want to make a lot more money for sure. Since he was only part time, he'd barely be making more than $400 a month. That won't cover even one of Mabel's classes. When school came around again, he would be forced to working only fifteen hours a week if he could get that.

The thought of not being able to make enough money to help his sister before he graduated worried him. He only had one year of high school left, and then he'd be off to whichever university he chose. He'd be unable to lend her a hand financially.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught Jarrod getting up from his table and heading for the door. Dipper grabbed his manager, and asked for a break. After gaining approval, he darted out after his friend and stopped him in his tracks at the corner.

"Hey, Jarrod," Dipper frowned at the smirk growing on Jarrod's face. "Don't give me that! Look, I've thought about what you said. I'll meet you at the mall."

Jarrod slapped Dipper's back in approval. "Great! I'll see you over there at around six tonight, 'kay?"

"Okay," Dipper confirmed. "At six, got it. Later."

He turned and walked back to the place of his current employment. Before heading in, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone to text Mabel. Just to make sure she didn't need the car at all that night. He got a ping a couple of minutes later from her, giving him a green light. For some reason, Dipper felt dreadful. It was almost like he shouldn't be doing this, and that it'd lead to a bad situation. He didn't want a bad run in with the cops, especially considering that his dad was on the force as well.

However, all that money in Jarrod's wallet looked too enticing for him to say no right away. He'd at least check it out first, and make sure what Jarrod was going to offer him was a legitimate job, and that he wouldn't drug him to sell his organs or anything like that. He hoped everything worked out and that nothing bad would happen. Maybe it would, and if it came to that, Dipper promised himself that he would back out entirely.