He clicked the mouse.
It opened a creaky old door in the game, and Dipper, as first-person Nancy Drew, stepped into the room. A Victorian era four poster bed was made up as if for a guest –save that it was covered in cobwebs. A fire place mantle had several clocks, all long stopped. The paint-chipped dresser contained old letters of yesteryear, and a forgotten jewelry box. It was all extremely realistic for being made of pixels, and Dipper shuddered at the memory of Rumble McSkirmish and Giffany.
But nothing was transported out of the laptop. All was right with Nancy Drew. But one thing was missing from the picturesque scene.
"See? No ghost," Dipper said confidently, with only a hint of superiority.
Mabel squinted at the screen, wondering if perhaps, it was a very, very, tiny ghost. In which case it would be adorable. But there was not a ghost, tiny or otherwise. She scratched her chin, and, enclosing her eyes with her fingers, put on her skepticals.
"I'm sure it should have popped out at me by now…this is the ghost's old room!" she took off her skepticals in order to flail her arms in exasperation.
"Well, you know," Dipper shrugged helplessly, "ghosts are temperamental, and games can have glitches…"
"This. is. the. ghost's. room!" Mabel screamed. "There is only one explanation for its absence."
"Actually, there are several, and I already listed two–"
"The ghost has been kidnapped!"
Dipper shuffled back to the bathroom to rinse his mouth. He wasn't about to tell Mabel he had played a few minutes on her file and that the ghost had popped out…at him.
But now he was hooked. He had to find out who was behind the haunting of Thornton Hall!
The next morning Mabel brought her laptop down to breakfast. While she shoveled bites of Stan-cakes into her mouth, she also clicked the mouse to navigate Nancy Drew through the mysterious, broken down manor.
"A puzzle!" she screeched. "This calls for my thinking sweater!" she sang out.
She scurried upstairs to change into her light bulb sweater that actually lit up. Dipper leaned over, inconspicuously reaching for the outdated bottle of syrup, and glanced at Mabel's laptop.
His fingers itched. Sparks went off in his mind. He could solve this in thirty seconds flat. If you just moved the red tile to replace the yellow one, and rotated the blue tile to fit by the purple…
Dipper jerked away as he heard Mabel's cheerful steps descending the stairs. He took a big bite of Stan-cakes and grimaced. He added some of the outdated syrup he had reached for. It didn't help.
Mabel turned her light bulb sweater on, momentarily blinding Dipper, as Grunkle Stan turned from the stove with another stack of Stan-cakes.
"Ugh! Turn that off, Mabel! It's too early for sunshine," he shuddered. Sunshine.
"Oh, Grunkle Stan," chided Mabel, "sunshine is for anytime and all the time!"
She got up to draw back the dusty curtains, but Stan picked her up and plopped her back into her seat.
As he dished up the latest batch of Stan-cakes, he observed Mabel's laptop.
"Can't you shut up that idiot box?" he grumbled, as a dialogue had begun.
"I have to hear Nancy talk to the suspects," Mabel explained enthusiastically.
"The words are on the screen," pointed out Stan.
"It's not enough to see the words – you have to hear the inflection…and…and tone," Mabel said. It was her best serious person impression. It sounded like a depressed llama. (Everyone knows llamas are never depressed.)
"It sounds stupid," muttered Grunkle Stan. "But then, what do you expect from a girl's game?" he laughed, elbowing his nephew. "Am I right? Men like us need something more macho, like Super Fabio Bros!"
"Mario, Grunkle," Dipper corrected with a sad laugh.
It was official. What Dipper knew in his heart had been given voice. Nancy Drew was for girls. And only girls.
But that stellar plot line…those scrumptious puzzles…it would be his secret addiction.
It needed to be fed.
Hope you are enjoying the story! Have suggestions? Ideas? Comments? Feel free to review! :)
