Sorry again for the wait. Next time's the final chapter! So, stay tuned!


As GB Hood's question boomed repeatedly within Dipper's mind, the world around the overwhelmed boy began to weigh down on him. Vic Macallan's fiendish grin, the ever-growing concern on Mabel and Wendy's faces, as well as the cheers and mocks of the crowd each played their part in chipping away at his psyche.

Part of Dipper wished that he could simply pull his hat over his eyes and wish the world away. He asked himself how such a thing could have happened. Was the deceitful showman telling the truth? Could he really hold Wendy's fate in the palm of his hand as he claimed? Any way he attempted to spin the situation all resulted in the same conclusion – this nightmare would not have happened had he kept his big mouth shut.

A stern voice broke through the madness, bringing Dipper back to reality:

"So, what do you say, fella?"

"Huh?" Dipper raised his head to see Macallan's arm opened towards him.

The man held his microphone closer to his lips, "You made it more than obvious that you want me to release your lumberjack friend from our "previous arrangement." I guess the real question here is what are you willing to do for her sake?"

Dipper stole a quick glance towards Wendy in the sky before meeting the devil eye-to-eye.

"Whatever it takes…"

"Is that right?" Vic stroked his chin with his free hand. "In that case, perhaps we can work out of a deal…"

"Oh, here we go! Well, kid, see ya in the funny pages!"

"For heaven's sake, Ty! He's just a boy! Don't do it, son! You can't trust the monster in the fancy Italian suit!"

"What – What is it you want from me?" Dipper stuttered onward.

"Indeed a worthy question." Macallan boasted, holding an index finger upwards. "What is it that you, a mere peon, could give to someone like me who has everything that this world has to offer?" He walked back and forth, turning his back on Dipper as the audience chattered mindlessly.

"Wait…" The promoter stopped in his tracks and spun back around, "That's it!"

"What's "it?"" Dipper asked.

Macallan took a few steps towards the confused pre-teen, making him jump back. "You are "it", my young adversary. You claim that our OCW Universe is nothing but grown men playing pretend, correct? That any simpleton could do this with ease? Well, that's what I want from you…"

He pointed up towards the cage holding Wendy prisoner. "You really want me to let that girl go? Okay then, go up there and get her!"

"Wha – " Dipper's mouth instantly dropped.

"You heard me." Macallan challenged him. "That is the deal, Mr. Skeptic. Climb up there and touch the outstretched fingers of your girlfriend, and I'll set her free…"

"Ah, the "Dustin Hoffman" proposal…"

"Gosh, I love that movie…"

"…you have my assurance…"

"A Vic Macallan "assurance!" The only thing more honest and pure is the actual word of the Almighty!"

"You mean, more like the twisted falsehoods of the fallen one, Ty! Stay on your toes, son! Be ready for anything!"

With the offer given, Dipper stared up towards the monument before him. The Triple Decker seemed to stretch out beyond its limits, growing longer and taller with each passing second.

Dipper forced his shaking knees to a halt as his nerves went supersonic.

"You…want…me…to climb that?!"

"Oh, what's the matter?" Vic bent down to address Dipper. "There's nothing to be afraid of. After all, we're only make-believe, right?"

"But – "

Dipper turned back around, where GB Hood had moved to the side of the entrance ramp with another frosty snack.

"What?" The fighter asked. "I'd love to help, but you know…" He shrugged and took another bite. "…ice cream…"

A new whisper-chant could be heard flowing through the masses, "No chance. He's got no chance in hell…"

"Well, go on!" Macallan stood up and threw an arm into the air. "Wendy's waiting for you…"

Upon hearing her name, Dipper returned his sights to the top of the arena. His redheaded main squeeze was on her flanneled elbows and jeaned knees on the floor of the cage. With her fingers wrapped around the nearest grate, Wendy lowered her body as much as possible and shouted down to her friend in hopes that he could hear:

"C'mon, Dip! You can do this! I know you can!"

Looking past the vast obstacle set before him, the shaken detective never took his eyes off Wendy as he mounted his rescue; her moral support powering him past his doubts and uncertainties. Dipper struugled as he pulled one of the ladders from the edge of the ring and towards the center. Macallan stepped to the side and chuckled as the boy attempted to line it up with the closest hanging table.

"That's it, Dipper! Keep going!"

With the ladder set, Dipper took an uneasy step onto the first rung. It violently shook beneath his sneakered feet, forcing him to cling even tighter to the sides. About halfway up the ladder – a good ten feet from the ground, Dipper's legs started to freeze up. He gulped and started to turn away from Wendy and glanced towards the ground.

"No, Dipper! Don't look down!"

His blood turned to ice as the effects of vertigo snatched him up in its clutches.

"…And I just looked down…"

The fans jeered and booed Dipper as he began to panic. Wendy raised her voice, trying her best to overcome the wave of ignorance and cruelty emitting from the patrons surrounding the arena.

"Dipper! Dipper! Look at me!"

Trembling, he turned back towards Wendy, who pounded on the bottom of her cell with both fists.

"Don't listen to them, okay? Block them out! Focus on my voice! Now, try again!"

Dipper gazed back into Wendy's green eyes and the chaotic world around him melted away. He followed her instructions as he took another step upwards…

"You got this, Dipper! You got this!"

…only to have his foot slip out from beneath him. Dipper's hands flew from the ladder's railings and outwards as he tried to regain his balance.

"WHOA-A-A-A-A!"

"Dipper! Hang on!"

His shifted weight made the ladder shake uncontrollably. With one final tilt, it began to tip over to the right. Dipper screamed for dear life as he fell from the ladder:

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Oh! Oh! There he goes, CA!"

"Watch out, small-fry! This is definitely gonna sting!"

*BLAM!*

Dipper landed hard on his shoulder as he slightly bounced on the springy mat flooring. He opened his eyes to see that the metal ladder was about to land right on top of him!

"Ah, s – "

He rolled away from danger just in the nick of time. The ladder smacked the ground and recoiled until it came to a complete stop.

Left breathless, Dipper remained motionless and gaped upwards at the bright lights above him. Wendy could no longer be seen or heard. Suddenly, a shadow blocked his sight. Dipper narrowed his eyes to see the grinning grimace of Vic Macallan.

"Dipper, wasn't it? You definitely showed me a thing or two. Halfway up the ladder? Wow!" He crossed his arms behind his back. "Maybe now, you'll learn to watch your smart mouth…"

The defeated tween held up a finger in agreement, "Way ahead of you on that…"

*SHATTER!*

The sound of glass breaking echoed throughout the stadium, sending everyone in attendance to their feet. A killer bass-intro, sounding similar in tone to that of a siren, blared over the speakers, drowning out the crowd.

To Dipper's surprise, Macallan's face instantly turned a ghost-white. The cocky promoter rushed away from him and fled towards the opposite end of the ring, scurrying through the ropes without effort. In spite of his exhaustion, Dipper turned towards the entrance and his eyes widened at the sight before him.

A new wrestler stormed out from the back with a determined look on his goatee-covered face. The bald headed pugilist sported a simple black leather vest along with solid onyx briefs. The right bottom was monogrammed with the number "3:16." The dual knee-braces above his black boots forced him to occasionally limp amongst his natural strut.

The most haunting feature to Dipper was the stranger's eyes; a polar opposite of Wendy's shining emerald ones, the man's were a stone-cold blue – marked with total callous and left without feeling. The icy glare reminded him of that which a serial killer would produce.

"And there he is, ladies and gentlemen! The only man that could send the devil himself running in fear. Former OCW Champion and Hall-of-Famer Rock-Hard Jason Studd!"

"Ah, jeez, CA! Him, too? Who else from the peanut gallery is going to pop out next?"

Upon passing GB Hood, Rock-Hard stopped in mid-step and shot him a nasty glare. Unfazed, Hood remained in perfect eye contact, and chomped on his ice-cream bar. After a few moments of silent showdown, Studd broke away and returned on his trek to the ring.

"After months away from home, the Houston Diamondback makes his triumphant return to the OCW, and the fans here are ecstatic!"

"Never mind that, CA! That kid's going to get a mud-hole stomped in him unless he moves his tail pronto!"

Heeding the announcer's advice, Dipper hopped to his feet and backed into the further corner of the ring as the new arrival stomped up the metal staircase leading into the ring. He drew back the ropes and headed towards the nearest ring post. With one thrust, Rock-Hard pulled himself up the turnbuckle and raised his arms into the air.

The portion of the spectators in his direction cheered as their icon addressed them. He hopped down and walked across the ring, repeating the action and receiving the same enthusiastic reaction.

Dipper raised an eyebrow at the reception given off. "Who is this guy? And why are these people enamored with him?" He looked up towards Wendy, who silently watched the scene unfold with her hands over her mouth.

"Oh…that probably means this is anything but good…"

As Rock-Hard went towards the third ring-post, he stopped as he spotted Dipper hiding out against the last corner. Keeping the wary child in his line of view, Studd walked towards the edge of the ring and leaned over the ropes. He signaled the ringside attendant for a microphone, swiping it out of his hands with a snarl. "Cut the music!"

He turned back around and immediately marched towards Dipper. With a yelp, the boy slid away from the turnbuckle and backed away from the approaching pugilist, holding his hands up and out to create some distance. After a few paces, Jason Studd came to a stop and held his mic up to his mouth.

"Son," he asked, throwing his hand out in Dipper's direction. "What in the blue blazes do you think you're doing?"

"Huh?" Dipper didn't know how to answer the question.

"HUH?!" The crowd mocked him in response.

The superstar walked back towards Dipper, "That was the most pathetic display I've ever seen in all of my years!"

"HUH?!" The fans repeated in conjunction.

"Maybe you haven't been paying attention," Jason Studd continued to chastise Dipper, forcing him back into the corner. "But I don't think you recognize how much trouble you're in! You're up Crap Creek without a paddle, which means you gotta use your hands!"

"HUH?!"

"W-Wha – " Dipper tried to speak up, only to be cut off as the man raised his voice higher.

"Your mouth just got you on the wrong side of the devil himself – "

"HUH?!"

"– and not only that, but you got your pretty, little lady friend caught up in the mix here – "

"HUH?!"

Studd paused and looked upwards towards Wendy, offering a simple nod of respect, "Ma'am…"

She didn't move a single inch, watching the scene unfold before her eyes. Her grip on the cage tightened in nervous anticipation. Unlike Dipper, Wendy knew what kind of person her little guy was left all alone with.

"And what are you doing about it?" Rock-Hard demanded, pointing directly in Dipper's face. "Making a total jackass out of yourself!"

"HUH?!"

"Can't even climb a damn ladder right! That little fall of yours was nothing but embarrassing!"

"HUH?!"

"B-But…" Dipper tried to explain, his body freezing in total fear of the predator before him.

"But what?!" Studd yelled into his mic, holding it away from the tween's face.

"HUH?!"

"But I really tried – "

"Rock-Hard didn't ask if you tried, son!" He screamed even louder.

"HUH?!"

"Rock-Hard asked why ya didn't do!" The warrior walked away in disgust, allowing Dipper to take a breath of relief. He marched around the ring before to coming to a next stop. Jason moved his free hands upwards, "And what about her?" He took another step back towards Dipper. "Look at her…"

Dipper's brown eyes were dead-set on the unpredictable anti-hero moving about the ring before him. His unintentional act of defiance irked Studd's rage. He pounded his boot against the mat and repeated himself.

"I SAID LOOK AT HER!"

"HUH?!"

Forced out of his fear-stricken state, Dipper forced himself to look back towards Wendy, finding the same amount of worry and alarm across her freckled face as he had.

"Now, does it look like she need to you to "try"? DOES IT?!"

"N-N-N-No…" Dipper shook his head.

"You're damn right, son! That girl needs you to "do!"" Studd pointed down at one of the many messages and logos printed on his vest in rhinestone. "You see this, kid? It says…"

The viewers chanted along with the phrase, as they knew by heart, "…D.B.N. Don't believe nobody!"

Rock-Hard continued on as the crowd calmed, "That means you want something done, you gotta do it yourself! Ain't no one gonna come and help ya outta this one! You want your girl down from that cage? Well then, get your tubby lil' butt up there and bring her down! Let nothing, come hell or high water stop you from reaching her!"

Speaking out against the roars surrounding him, Dipper meekly asked, "But then, why are you here?"

"Because…" Studd answered, now pointing downward towards where Macallan stood at ringside displaying a frustrated sneer. "If there's one thing I hate in this company, it's that lying, sniveling, good-for-nothing "sumbitch!" And if giving you a swift kick in the ass to get you up that ladder is the one thing that'll ruin his night, then, I'll be damned if I'm not gonna go and do it!"

The two men traded scowls; an unconditional sign that their rivalry would never be over before Jason returned his full attention to Dipper. "But maybe you need a little something extra. Perhaps some liquid courage might give you a little boost…"

"Liquid courage? He doesn't mean – Oh, no, Ty! He can't be serious!"

"Yeah, Jason! He's a minor! I mean, I know we're in Oregon, but still…"

Jason Studd walked back to the edge of the ring and waved his arm towards the group of attendant waiting on hand. The furthest one hustled to a nearby cooler and returned with two aluminum cans. The fighter motioned again and the roadie gently tossed them.

Catching the drinks in one swipe, Rock-Hand turned around to offer Dipper a can. Noticing something amiss, Studd looked down at the ice-cold drink in his hand. Disgusted, he spun back around and hurled the beverage back at the aide, missing his mark by mere inches.

"How 'bout something non-alcoholic for the kid, you jackass!"

"HAHA!"

"Now, that's the good, ol' Rock-Hard I know, folks…"

The now-extra-careful attendant personally handed him a can of Pitt Cola, to which Jason swiftly grabbed, "Gimme that!"

Before Dipper could react, the beverage was pitched into his gut with an "Ugh!"

"Drink up, squirt!" Jason Studd raised his can. "You're definitely gonna need it!"

Dipper popped the top of his soda and went to take a sip, stopping as he spotted Rock-Hard tilting his head backwards and messily pouring his adult beverage down into his open mouth. A thick layer of foam splashed over his goatee and downwards into the flooring.

"Eh, when in Rome…" Dipper shrugged and mimicked the superstar, hoisting the cola over his mouth and letting its sticky contents empty down his throat and over his clothing. As the audience applauded this new change in character, the tiny sleuth gagged on the sweet swill, as it accidentally went down the wrong pipe.

Even from stories above, Wendy covered her mouth and laughed at such a scene, knowing that she was baring witness to an once-in-a-lifetime-moment from her usually introvert companion.

""Atta-boy!" Studd took his half-empty can and cracked it against Dipper's, making their contents flying into the air. "Now, you're getting it!"

"I can't believe what I'm seeing, CA. I've never seen this side of Rock-Hard before…"

"You're telling me, Ty. Looks like ol' Jason Studd has an apprentice in the making…"

Once finished, Rock-Hard threw his empty container behind his shoulder and out of the ring while Dipper merely set his down on the ground.

"Thank you…"

The much-larger adult reached out and offered an open hand. As Dipper was about to shake it, he could hear a shriek coming from overhead:

"Stop! Dipper! Dipper! No! Get away!"

His attention instantly went back to Wendy. All of her mirth had been replaced with a sense of urgency and fear.

"Don't get too close to a Houston Diamondback, Dip!" The ginger warned. "They'll turn on you and strike at any given moment!"

Dipper looked back at Jason Studd as the sleuth took a few paces back with hand overdrawn. Studd's smile vanished as his serious expression returned. He held up both palms and forced a chuckle. "Heh-heh! You got me." He pointed up towards Wendy. "That lady of yours, kid? Definitely a keeper; girl sure knows her stuff…"

He chortled again before immediately spinning into a rage, "NOW GET BACK UP THAT LADDER BEFORE I TOSS YOUR SCRAWNY BEHIND UP THERE!"

With a yelp, Dipper sprinted across the ring, took hold of another ladder, and once aligned beneath a low-hanging table, began to scale to the rescue for a second time.

"And there he goes, folks! Our unsung hero's ready to give it another go!"

"And with great timing, too, CA! Especially on the part of the lady in the cage above. She probably saved that kid from receiving a "Rock-Hard-Shocker," courtesy of the Houston Diamondback himself!"

His job done, Jason Studd headed up towards the end of the squared circle and lifted the ropes to make his exit. Vic Macallan instantaneously rushed to the opposite side of ringside to maintain some safe distance from his long-time nemesis.

The fighter took a metal folding chair and set himself up next to Mabel, who remained parked in the seat provided to her by OCW Security. The small metal-mouthed pixie sat pouting with crossed arms as her brother and friend were unwillingly tossed into the spotlight. Her jealously quickly faded as Studd opened another drink and focused on the action in the ring.

"Ooh!" Mabel analyzed the man from head to toe, memorizing his every detail. She raised an eyebrow upon seeing a strange marking on his jacket.

"Um, excuse me, mister?"

Jason let out a burp, his sights never faltering for a moment. "What is it?"

"I was wondering about your vest. What do the initials, "B.M.F. mean?"

"Well, little lady," he said, taking another swig, "What'd you think it stands for?"

"Hmm…" Mabel held her chin in her palm as she thought, "Wait, I got it! It means "Be My Friend," right?"

Rock-Hard slowly turned to his side and stared down the naïve girl with complete affection in her shining brown eyes. To her surprise, the burly man let out a hearty laugh and slapped the back of Mabel's chair. "HAHA! Kid, you're alright!"

Back in the ring, Dipper made his way to the top of the ladder. With both feet planted on the last rung, he shifted his weight as the support beneath him started to sway again. The wooden table leading upwards was within his grasp.

Wendy saw what was about to happen, "You're right there, Dipper! Now, jump!"

"JUMP! JUMP! JUMP! JUMP!" The entire stadium joined along with the captive high-schooler as Dipper bent his knees and leapt upwards as the ladder tipped over and landed back on the springy ground. In mid-air, the boy dug his fingernails into the rounded corner of the table. He strained and flailed about until he was able to pull himself safely onto the top of the swinging platform. From there, Dipper collapsed and lied back as he struggled to catch his breath.

"I – I can't believe it, CA! The chubby, little pisher made it up there! I thought for sure he'd be wheeled out on a stretcher by now!"

"Believe it, Ty! Never underestimate the abilities of a young man in love!"

"Oh, CA. You big softie…"

The crowd gave him a congratulatory round of applause as Wendy flashed a toothy grin, knowing that she was another step closer to freedom.

"You still with me, kiddo?"

The fact that her voice was a lot closer gave some much-needed comfort to her attempted rescuer. Dipper nodded along to answer back, "Uh…Uh-huh…"

Her appearance reverted to that of a serious one, "I know you're super-worn-out, Dip, but you gotta get up! There's two tables left to go…"

"Two…more…tables…?" Dipper's eyes focused away from Wendy and towards the remaining obstacles suspended above him. He let his head smack the wood under him, "Oh, man…"

"Dipper, listen to me," Wendy insisted. "You're so close, buddy…" She sighed and looked out of the corner of her eye for a split moment, "I – I know I messed up bad, okay? I got myself stuck up here. But I can't do this without you, Dip. I need you to keep going…please…"

With the plea said, Dipper opened his eyes. He staggered back to his feet, only for the table to start rocking from under him. "WHOA!" Dipper sunk to one knee and planted his hands to retain his balance.

"How the heck am I going to get up there if I can barely stand?"

"Hang a sec, Dipper!"

He raised his head to see Wendy pointing down at his table.

"Use the momentum!" She swung her arms back and forth like a cradle. "Get yourself high enough, and then leap for it!"

With Wendy's encouragement, Dipper shakily stood back up. Following his lumberjane love's advice, he began to shift his weight from heels to toes. His slight movements made the table swing from side to side.

"That's it, Dipper! Keep it up! Now, JUMP!"

On Wendy's signal, Dipper hopped from his current standings to the next. He let out an "OOF!" as the second table's edge cracked against his bread basket. In spite of the blow, the child was able to pull himself up with ease.

"Good going, Dipper! Now – "

To Wendy's shock, her admirer was ahead of the game. He steadied his footing and repeated the sequence. Before she knew it, Dipper had already made it to the final set of tables.

"This is…truly incredible, Ty…I've never seen anything like this in all my years…"

"For once, we agree on something, CA. These two tykes are working in tandem towards the same goal. One's weakness is the other's strength! That's the kinda teamwork you just don't see in the OCW anymore…"

"Heaven willing, maybe, just maybe, they'll be able to get outta this jam…"

"Now that, I wouldn't count on, CA…"

"Whatcha' mean by that, Ty?"

"I mean, as entertaining as all of this is, there is a reason Mr. Macallan set this up…"

"Meaning…?"

"Meaning that I don't think they're out of the woods just yet…"

"Hoo, boy! Let's hope you're wrong, Ty. For their sakes…"

"GAH!" With one last thrust, Dipper flung himself from the top table and reached outwards towards the top of the scaffolding. His hands clutched around the metal bars, giving them a cooling sensation. He groaned as he stretched a leg upwards, eventually finding a foothold for support. After a couple of tries, Dipper was able to pull his body onto the walkway. He huffed and puffed, finding himself only a few yards away from Wendy trapped in the steel cage.

The freckled auburn-haired beau beamed at her young charge. "Way to go, Dipper! You're almost there!"

"A-Almost?" He asked, as his body started to come back down from the adrenaline rush.

Wendy dropped down from her knees and lied prone at the bottom of the cage. Her dimpled face was squished against the iron grating as she forced a pasty-white arm through a hole in the cage. Dipper could see from the rolled-up sleeve and reddened skin that it was definitely a tight squeeze for his crush.

She stretched downwards with her hand, extending her fingers as much as humanly possible. Seeing the end of his quest in sight, Dipper stood on his tip-toes, leaving the fans watching on edge in a quiet gasp, and reached up to touch Wendy's hand…

"This is it, ladies and gents: the moment of truth. As promised by Vic Macallan, all they have to do is touch hands, and the young lady will be freed from her confinement."

…only to miss it by several feet.

"What?!" The two friends exclaimed at the same time. The audience let out a series of disheartened groans as Dipper continued to hop upwards towards Wendy, barely missing her fingertips by mere inches.

"Oh, no, CA! He's just too short! They can't reach each other!"

"He knew it, Ty! I swear to you, Macallan knew this would happen."

In spite of the odds, each teen kept going at achieving the near-impossible. Wendy grinded her teeth and extended her arm further. She cried out a bit as her shoulder blade popped against the grate beneath her. Dipper lowered himself to the floor of the narrow pathway and shot up like a rocket.

"C'mon! C'mon! Almost…there!"

"I'm trying, Wendy! I swear I'm trying…"

"I know you are! Just…keep…going…!"

The horde's heart went towards the duo; their moans and howls grew louder and louder with every failed attempt at reconnecting. No matter how hard they tried, the limits set between Dipper and Wendy was just too great to overcome.

After countless attempts, Dipper finally collapsed to his knees. Sweat poured down his back and over his face. He wiped it away from his face, and glanced towards Wendy.

"What – What do we do now?"

A dejected Wendy rose up from the cage and tested her sore limbs. She saw her devotee looking to her for any sort of guidance, but for the first time tonight, the ginger found herself completely speechless.

"I…I'm not sure…"

*BING!* *BING!* *BING!* *BING!*

Startled, Dipper began to search his surroundings for the source of the ringing echo. "What – Where is that noise coming from?"

"I dunno…" Wendy replied. "Maybe it's – " She paused as her eyes locked on the giant video screen mounted across the arena. "Dipper! The videotron!"

They watched in horror as the display projected the ghastly visage of Vic Macallan. The well-garbed elder stood at ringside with mic in hand next to the time keeper's table.

"Hold on! Why did Mr. Macallan have the bell rung? I thought he said that this was the main event?"

"I don't like this, Ty. I think you were on to something about him having an ace up his sleeve…"

All of a sudden, nearly two dozen wrestlers of different types came storming out from the back area. Smaller luchadors and cruiserweights hurried alongside beefcakes, jobbers, and heavyweights. Within seconds, they swarmed around the outside of the ring, as if in wait of an unknown signal.

"What in the world – I think that's nearly everyone from the back; you know, except for – "

"There's definitely something funny going on, Ty!"

"All right, all right!" Vic addressed the masses. "I think we all had enough of the silliness happening up there. So allow me to spice things up a bit…"

Dipper and Wendy shared a worried look among one another as neither knew what to expect next.

Macallan pointed directly up at the stunned boy and bellowed in his microphone, "…Whoever tosses that child off from up there will be $100,000 richer!"

Several screeches and shouts were heard from within the audience, followed by a collection of "Boo's."

"What?! That son-of-a – he's finally lost it!"

"CA, you know I usually try to be a company man, but this – this is crazy. Even this kid doesn't deserve that!"

Dipper's jaw opened upon having the death sentence placed upon him. He helplessly watched as the gang of wrestlers entered the ring and began to head towards him using the numerous discarded ladders.

"Dipper, what are you doing?"

He turned around to see Wendy back on her knees at the cage's bottom. "Don't just stand there! They're coming up this way! You have to get outta here!"

Dipper thought for a second, then stood up. "I'm – I'm not leaving you here, Wendy…"

She grew crossed, "Maybe you missed the part where the nut bag down there placed a bounty on your head! Just – don't worry about me, okay? You need to split before they mess you up real bad!"

He refused again, shaking his head, "I don't care what happens to me! I won't leave you trapped up there!"

"That's a sign of real beauty, folks. The purest love – truly poetry in motion…"

"*SNIFF* CA, would you risk everything to save my sorry behind from the brink of imminent danger?"

"Well, that depends, Ty. How much would you pay me to do so?"

"Stupid, stubborn…" Wendy lightly banged her forehead against the cage in frustration as she gripped the bars in front of her. "Gonna get himself killed…"

However, Dipper wasn't going to give up without a fight. He peered over his shoulder, spotting a ladder to his left on the slender end of the scaffolding. He followed it, seeing that it led to the front of Wendy's cage.

"Wendy?" Dipper called out. "Hey, Wendy?! The door! What about the door?!"

She lifted her head, her face now blotted with matted copper hair, "I tried it already. It's locked."

"On your side maybe," the detective theorized. "But what about my side?"

Some of the darkness and doubt faded away from Wendy's expression. "I…don't think so. But whatever you're going to do, I'd do it fast!"

With her approval, Dipper rushed towards the ladder. He skid to a stop as he spotted a muscular hand rising up from beneath the girder. The mere sight filled Dipper with dread.

"It's too late. They're already here…"

"Dipper! Look out!"

Wendy's warning came a second too late as another hand seized Dipper's right ankle. He kicked and squirmed towards freedom to no prevail, as the mystery palm pulled him closer towards the edge of the scaffolding.

"Hey, let him go right now!" Wendy pounded on the gate with her fists, trying to creating a distraction. "Don't you dare hurt him! Just wait until I get outta here! You'll be sorry, pal!"

But it was no use. With one more tug, Dipper was yanked off the platform and flung back towards solid earth.

"Oh, heaven have mercy! There he goes! One of those madmen actually did it!"

"CA, CA, I just can't look…"

The last thing Dipper heard as he fell was Wendy shrieking at the top of lungs after him; her cries overlapped his very own:

"DIPPER! DDDDDDDIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPEEEEERRRRRRR!"