PLEASE READ: Dipper and Mabel end up copying two thousand clones each. Wow. Major waste of paper. Well, it is an army right? Lol. So try to remember: it's fiction!
"Okay, guys, I want everyone to find a twin. Pair up and line up behind Mabel Classic and I when you're done. Understand?" Dipper asked. Two thousand Dippers and two thousand Mabels nodded in the now hot sunlight of the forest.
"Are you sure this is going to work?" Mabel whispered.
"You hadn't doubted it before," Dipper replied back.
"Do they all have a gun?" Mabel asked.
"Pretty sure," her brother answered. "The machine copied everything that we had."
"I had one."
"Me too."
Miraculously, each clone paired quickly and lined up behind the twins. Chatter rose up amongst them, and some even started to whoop.
"We're going to kick Mel's butt!"
"And smash it to pieces!"
"Can I shoot my gun now, as a sort of test run?"
"Nartz, safety lock."
"The sun's hot."
"I have to pee."
"Sorcha is going to follow us there, isn't she?"
"Mabel Classic, can I lead the line?"
"I wonder if one of us is going to turn on each other..."
"I want to go back!"
"Am I going to die?"
"What kind of war is this?"
"Okay, okay, okay! Guys! We're ready to go. Emma? Anything else you have for us?" Dipper Classic asked. Emma stepped out from behind a tree. Gasps and rude comments were tossed about until Emma grabbed #89's gun and fired. The clear gunshot rang through the air and caused a moment of sheer silence.
"No," she said clearly with a hint of defiance. "There is nothing else. All you need to do is call Mel's name. And your war has begun."
For a minute, silence bounced off the trees. Hearts pounding, toes tapping, quiet whimpers...
Soon, Mabel could bear it no longer.
"Mel. We're ready for you."
A snap could be heard in the distance, and soon nothing was left in the clearing but the whistling wind drifting through the trees.
Mabel opened her eyes.
It was the arena. Mel's arena, the one that very much resembled a football arena, but with no seats or cheering crowds.
Then she heard a voice. It echoed through her head, and by the way everyone else was rubbing their temples she knew they heard it, too.
"It's me, Mel. I. See. You've come. Come to. Fight. Please, as a. Token. Of my. Hospitality, please feel free. To. Take. Any weapons. As. Needed. From the table," the voice said.
Almost simultaneously, the army turned their heads to a giant round table stocked with knives, spears, swords, heavy bats, poison balls on sticks, chainsaws, and countless others. Mabel #1987 squeaked and vomited.
"Enjoy, brave. Fighters. Now, let my. Personal. Army commence. Please take care. Of my dear friends."
Each Mabel clutched each Dipper's arm, and vice versa. The arena was overcome by silence. You could hear a pin drop.
Then, all of a sudden, an unseen door squeaked open. The army drew a sharp breath.
The next moment, an enormously loud army call sounded through the arena. Heavy footsteps pounded the ground. Then, they came into view. Bronze helmets shining in the light. Dense armor clinking in rhythm with the footsteps. This was no modern army.
"Assyrians," Dipper #701 whispered.
"Assyrians!?" his partner asked.
"The Assyrian Empire is considered to be the most powerful to exist. The empire was at its height from 1000 BC to 612 BC. Mel must've used time travel on us again. But I think she only took A few; the general Assyrian army had about 50,000 men. Some of the Assyrian's battle tactics were to kill everyone in sight, and take some away to be slaves," Dipper #701 explained and gulped. "We're going to die."
As the time captives lurched even more forward, the army gathered weapons quickly. Finally, the first Assyrian to reach the army pulled his bowstring taut, and let an arrow fly. Dipper #17 ducked, and it flew right past his head. There was no time to cheer, though, because the Assyrians were gaining on them. Bravely, Mabel #1267 fired her gun at the first one to near her. He fell to his knees, and died.
"Yeah! Whoo! You did it!" Mabel #1267's partner shouted and held his hand up for a high five.
"Dipper! Look out!" she shrieked, and dove forward to push him down. But arrows can't keep soaring forever. Mabel #1267 coughed, and slumped to the ground.
"Mabel! Mabel wake up! Please! Mabel!" her partner, Dipper #1862 cried. He knelt down to her side, and just as he was about to give up, a hand rested on his shoulder.
"Come on man, we have to keep going," Dipper #999 said gravely. With a loud battle cry, the Assyrians raised their weapons, as well as the army. Finally, bronze mixed with white and orange. War had begun. The sounds of gunfire, screams of agony, and the Assyrian army's weapons deafened the arena. Some were wrestling with hand to hand combat as well as attacking from a weapon. Dipper #684 charged forward with an ax, knuckles white, and with a shaky hand swung horribly, but hit his target. A bloody Assyrian dropped dead with an ax lodged firmly in his skull.
Dipper and Mabel Classic fought at the front of the battlefield, leading their clone army. Armed with swords and shields, poison balls and, of course, their guns, they fought with every ounce of strength they had. Dipper slit an enemy's throat, and stabbed him twice for good measure. Blood oozed out of the soldier's neck in a deep shade of crimson. Dipper scraped it off and smeared it across his face. Mabel drew back a poison ball and heaved it at an approaching warrior. It hit his head with a clang, and almost immediately blue froth seeped from his mouth. He fell to the ground and into a puddle of vomit.
Mabel #321 gagged herself from a poison ball. She dropped on the bloodstained ground. Her dead body was a shade of sickly blue, and she twitched in a reactive way. Her eyes bulged with repulsive red irises and huge mucus filled sores developed on her shoulders and face. Still, Dipper and Mabel Classic led the army on. Mabel pointed her gun steadily at another soldier, when from behind an enemy clobbered her with a club. She fell, wind knocked out of her, until she could bear it no longer. Wheezing heavily, she laid down on the blood sodden and pungent smelling ground.
"Mabel!" she heard her brother cry.
"Dip-p-er-" she coughed. Soon he was at her side.
"Mabel... no. You're okay. Ehhhgh!" he said, then let out a moan. Mabel clasped the ground as it started to spin. Her throat was on fire, and a warm, sticky, substance erupted from her lips. Blood. She retched a puddle of blood right in the middle of the battleground. Why weren't any Assyrians attacking them? All of a sudden, Dipper was seized by the beck from behind, and his weapons dropped to the ground with a clatter. He gazed up into the eyes of the attacker.
It was a burly man with armor of pure gold. He had a broad face, widely set eyes, and was big boned. His curly black beard wound crazily around his face.
"A jeni një e vërtetë? Ka shumë që janë të njëjta. Por ju duken ndryshe," he said suspiciously.
"Can't-understand-" Dipper rasped. Finally, just as he was about to black out, his fingers took hold of the smooth surface of a gun. Knuckles white, he clutched the weapon tightly. It was large, and surrounded with gold rubies and emerald filigree glass. The color was a shining silver, and the trigger laced with diamond. Beautiful. The soldier's eyes widened as Dipper lifted up the gun shakily.
"Haha! Never seen one of these before?" he teased. But the victory was short-lived. His opponent roared angrily, and swiped the gun from his hands. Nothing could stop the Assyrians. Merely the show of a gun could not stop the Assyrians. Dipper rasped for air in the brief time of release, but the warrior continued to keep a firm choking grip on his neck. Air was running out. There was nothing to do. Dipper had always imagined himself leaving Mel's home victorious. Joyful all the war and hate was over. But it wouldn't be so. No. It would. Dipper instinctively kicked the Assyrian in the groin, and reached for the gem-studded gun. Firmly pressing his index finger on the trigger, the bullet flew straight into the target's chest. He fell over, dead. Dipper turned around to help Mabel. But all that was left was the thrown up blood puddle. "Mabel!" he shouted. But nothing was heard over the roar of gunfire, the enemy, and death.