"You didn't see what that evil triangle did to my father's face! The holes were all rearranged." She took a few deep breaths. "I mean, sure it's back to normal; but sometimes I'm afraid to look him in the eye because it won't be in the right place. I'm… I'm afraid to run my own hands over my face right now. It's not vanity that keeps me checking the mirror."

"I understand, Pacifica," Dipper placed a hand on her back in empathy as she took her break from the stand. "I tried to blast away Uncle Ford's memories. The man had a metal plate installed as a precaution against Bill. Seriously."

"So why," her big blue eyes searched Dippers, "WHY?" she looked at Mabel, "Why are you parading around with that thing like it's a friend?"

Mabel bit her lip and looked down at the weeds peeking out of the cement. She picked one up and twirled it in her fingers. "Everybody hates a dandelion when it's a destructive, yellow weed. It breaks up everything humanity has established as normal: lush green lawns, paved roads and walkways... Somehow we forget that it was here long before we were. You try to eradicate it, yet deep down you know it will always persist. It seems to hate us right back." She blew the white globe of seeds as they danced easily on the breeze. "But isn't it magical when it changes?" She paused, "Maybe… an enemy is just a friend you haven't made yet. Maybe it makes sense to coexist."

"What, were you born in the sixties? Changed? 'Cha right." Her lower lip jutted out. "He's only adopted some hipster sheen to gain your confidence. He'll be right back to tearing up the town when you let your guard down." She poked the brunette on the collar, "You'd better not loosen those reins for the safety of- I don't know, the universe?"

"Pacifica," Dipper placed his hands on either of her shoulders, "Look at me," His brown eyes were set on hers, "breathe in when I do, out when I do." Her breaths came shakily. He nodded after a long while, "That's good." The three sat on a grassy knoll by the carnival rides. "I know," he looked up at banners streaking the blue sky, "believe me I know this sounds stupid. And I was angry at Mabel for putting us in danger, at first. But do you know what I feel now?" He looked at the blonde.

"What?"

"Free," He laughed. "I'd spent the last five years of my life worrying about this very moment. I did everything I could to stop it, but nothing worked. We'd even moved the protection to the edges of Gravity Falls with the most extensive technology and Bill still got in."

Because he was inside Waddles… Mabel mused.

"Like Mabel said, we were trying to eradicate something that had been here longer than we could ever imagine. Yet we knew in our very souls that our efforts were likely in vain. Do you know what it's like to live with that rolling around in your head?"

She shook her head, "No. I mean, I thought he was gone for good."

"Now he's here," Dipper gestured, "and it's literally not the end of the world. Sure I worry that things will go downhill and that's why I'm still preparing. But I don't have that paranoia Ford has, I don't worry every day. That's because my trust is stronger than fear. I trust my sister. Even if she dates douchebags-"

"Hey!"

Pacifica laughed.

"Even if she does- I can only give her my two cents and trust that she has everyone's best interest at heart. She always has. Besides, if she broke up with the guy he'd be dust in a matter of weeks." A genuine smile broke out on Dipper's face. At that Mabel pounced and began tickling him into submission.

/-\

Ah, Pine Tree's girlish squeals of torment could bring warmth to any demon's cold, dead heart. Bill eagerly ran forward to take a peek at his tortured expressions.

"My break's up." Pacifica briskly stood at the boy's entrance. She narrowed her eyes towards him as she brushed herself off. "Hope I don't see you later, Dusty."

"Dusty?" Bill furrowed an eyebrow.

"You aren't the only one with stupid nicknames," She quirked a smile as she flipped her hair and walked away.

"Bye Pacifica!" Mabel waved enthusiastically.

"I'm here if you need somebody," Dipper chimed in.

"I am rather low on servants," she waved as she walked back to the cotton candy stand.

"Shame that girl had to suffer from her parents mistakes," Stan shook his head. "What's her deal with you, though?" He turned to Ben.

"Exes. Am I right?" He shrugged his shoulders. Ex-lackeys, as it were. Little did she know how generous he'd been towards her when her parents were willing to give so much more than their money.

"Ben, you scoundrel," Mabel's lips curled like a cat's maw.

"I've been called worse in my time," he grinned back proudly.

"You two are gross," Dipper sat up with fresh grass clippings littering his chestnut hair. "You're gross." He looked to his grunkles, "Can we leave this love fest and get some funnel cake?"

Smart kid, Bill observed, he wants to draw Sixer's attention away from me. Too bad that method won't work.

"All right," Ford offered, "But first I'd like to play Ben in a game. See what type of shot he is if he wants to date my niece. Never know what type of enemies could be afoot."

Dipper swallowed against his dry throat. Mabel dared not wipe the smile from her face. Bill stared with his confident grin, "Eh, I could take 'em."

"Humans maybe," Sixer prodded, "but demons?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Pops." Bill tilted his head.

"The name's Stanford."

"Let's see what I call you if you lose," Bill grabbed a bb-gun from the shooting range nearby. "Unless you're scared."

Mabel could feel her pulse rocketing when Ford picked up the gun attached to the table beside him. "You two make it sound like a duel, heh heh…" She inhaled, "It's not, right?"

There was no response as the two picked up the guns and aimed for the tiny, red star in the center of a square piece of paper a yard away. Ford was finished in a flash, not a piece of red remaining. He blew off the barrel and looked over to his competitor. To his surprise, the boy had his tongue out and was taking sporadic shots that ranged far from the target. The old man's jaw dropped. Maybe his suspicions were wrong. Even if he was missing an eye, he really did act like a teen; talking a big game, giving people monikers. The probability was likely that he was just trying to look cool in front of Mabel. He sighed, perhaps he had been paying attention to a lost triangle for too long. He'd even begun to wonder if he missed the challenge that Bill presented. He suddenly felt awful for projecting. Ford clasped Ben on the back, whose eye jolted open in response.

"Here," The old man said, "let me show you how to shoot that thing."