Stanley Pines scowled as he walked along the beachfront sidewalk, trying to resist looking at the ocean to his left. Too many memories, too many hopeful dreams and broken promises were made by that ocean, and yet here he was, unable to resist one last moment with it before he left Glass Shard Beach forever.

He kicked a rock off the sidewalk, finally coming to a familiar area, swallowing hard when he heard the creaking of the old swing set, the seats rocking gently from the gusty sea breeze. He swallowed bitterly, walking off of the sidewalk and up to the swings, sitting down on the right one, the one that was 'his'. As he swayed back and forth on the swing, he couldn't help but think…had it REALLY been just last night that he had a home, a life, a brother? And in a day, it was gone forever?

He blinked hard, clenching his teeth to keep from crying. The last thing he wanted was to start waterworks he KNEW he couldn't stop. But still, the weight of everything crashing down at once was catching up to him, crushing at his heart in a way that was physically HURTING. He sniffled once and clenched his hands into the ropes. He couldn't break down here, not now…

A glimmer on the beach near the surf caught his attention, making him look up. At first he thought that it was a glint of moonlight on glass, but it was too shiny for that. He squinted slightly, seeing an object resting in the sand just outside the reach of the waves coming in.

Welcoming the distraction, he stood up and walked across the sand, coming up to the object, kneeling down to examine it.

It was a book…a journal, by the looks of it. The soft light of the moon was reflecting off of a golden shape on the cover that looked like a shooting star, glittering like gold. To be honest, it looked like something a little girl would buy at the dime store to doodle in. In any other circumstance, he would pit it back down and curse himself for wasting his effort investigating it, but just feeling the weight of it in his hands, picking up a distinct feeling of thick, leathery material, the seal on the cover looking too solid to be cheap foil…

He carried the book back to the swing set, sitting down and opening it, pursing his lips when glitter fell into his lap. Great. Past the glitter was writing and drawings that looked like they were done in crayon, but the art was so detailed that fact almost escaped him. He turned page after page, seeing the drawings range from stunningly beautiful to downright nightmare-inducing, picking up a few sentences in-between explaining the drawings or just random anecdotes.

He didn't know who this 'Grenda' was, but for her to guzzle five gallons of milk at once was pretty goddamn impressive.

For being done up in crayon, it was at least entertaining enough to keep him interested until he came near the middle of it, where there was a large setup that looked similar to those weird summoning circles in those nerdy D&D& More D books.

The slight reminder of his twin brother had Stan's slightly-elevated mood come crashing down again. Not even the colorful picture of the shooting star surrounded by hearts and glitter was amusing him anymore. He swallowed hard, not having the will to keep himself from crying anymore, angrily wiping at the tears that came out of his eyes.

He couldn't help it. It wasn't even two hours, but he already ached for his brother, his twin, his best friend…

A tear escaped being wiped by his hand, dripping off his chin and landing on the book, and Stan didn't see it sparkle like glitter before being absorbed into the page.

Stan jumped when he felt the book vibrate in his lap, shoving it to the sand with a yelp of shock. The book trembled in the sand before the symbols and circles on the pages began glowing pink, the image lifting right out of the book, spanning at least five feet in diameter, emitting a humming pulse of energy and the scent of the art room back at the high school.

He watched with wide eyes as an image emerged from the glowing circle, a young girl with long brown hair, a large pink sweater and black skirt, pink knee-highs and black flats. She looked up at him, smiling brightly, her pink eyes glowing just enough so Stan could make out distinct star-shaped pupils.

She hovered above the image for a moment before the image faded and she lowered down to stand in the sand, still smiling at him. "Hi!" she chirped, startling him out of his stupor. "I'm Mabel! But you can call me the girl of your dreams!" She batted her eyes coquettishly at him before shoving him right off the swing with a surprisingly powerful one-handed push. "I'm JOKING!" she laughed, hovering again to loom over him.

Stan stared up at her, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. He had to be hallucinating out of grief, or at very least those cigarettes he bummed off of Craig earlier that day were laced with SOMETHING—

He blinked when the girl—Mabel—reached over and bopped his nose with her finger. His nose twitched, feeling something stuck to it, reaching up and pulling off a purple heart sticker. Well. This just went from weird to bizarre. "…okay, first question—what the actual fu—"

"NOPE," Mabel interrupted, pressing another sticker-laden fingertip to his mouth. "Pottymouths WILL be washed out with soap." She held up her hand, a bar of pink glittery soap appearing in it. "And I'm totally serious." She shifted back, sitting on the swing next to the one Stan had been occupying. "As for what's going on, you summoned me!" She kicked her legs slightly, starting to swing.

Stan sat up, peeling the sticker off of his lips—the hell, was it strawberry flavored?—and frowning. "…the he—heck do you mean, 'summoned'?" he asked, the bar of soap being a glittering, glaring threat he couldn't help but think was real.

Mabel beamed at him. "Well," she said, "you were feeling sad and lonely. So I came here to turn that frown upside-down!" She waved her hand, the book in the sand levitating up to her. She grabbed it out of the air and handed it to him. He took it, holding it gingerly.

"So…what? You some kinda angel or something?" He shuddered when she laughed again, the sound light and airy like a wind chime, but it was like the breeze that made it clink was arctic.

"HARDLY," she replied. "The opposite, actually." She grinned, and he became aware of how sharp her teeth were. "But," she continued, pointing to him and then to the swing, his body moving against his will to sit down on it, "I'm being honest when I said I'm here to help out your sadness! I like making friends, and lonely hearts are a calling beacon for me!" She stopped swinging, smiling at him.

"So tell you what," she said, "I'll be your friend. Your BEST friend. I'll never leave you, or let anyone hurt you. I'll even help you out with your awful situation you have now, and in return, you be MY best friend, forever and ever!"

Stan dug his heels into the sand, his hands clenching into the ropes. "…Deal with the devil, right?" he asked gruffly. He looked a distance away down the sidewalk, seeing his El Diablo that held every possession he currently owned, and suddenly his options dwindled down to near-non-existence. "…Well I might be dumb as punching bag, but I'm not stupid," he said, looking back at Mabel. "The devil's in the details…learned at least ONE useful thing from Pops. What's the cost, and when do you collect?"

Mabel smiled at him, and he swore it was something almost loving and proud. "Smart," she said. "It'll cost you your loyalty, and, yes, your soul. But you don't collect until you die a natural death. And TRUST me, I'll make sure your life is long and satisfying." She held out her hand, a pink, sparkly fire flaring in her palm. "Do we have a deal, Stan?"

Stan flicked his eyes between his car and her hand a few times before he reached out and took it, feeling like he'd stuck his hand in warm carbonated soda. It almost tickled.

"Great!" Mabel exclaimed, jumping up. "Let's get going then!" She skipped off toward his car, and he hurriedly stumbled after her, clutching the book in his hand.

"Go WHERE?" he demanded. Mabel giggled, beaming at him.

"Set a course for Oregon," she replied. "I'll explain my plan along the way!"

"…Is it a problem that my license is suspended?"

"Hey, when there's no cops around, EVERYTHING'S legal!"

"Fair enough!"