Quentin shuffled through his trenchcoat's pockets eagerly, throwing all manner of debris, shrapnel and butterscotch candy as he rifled through his suspiciously large collection of odds and ends.
Electrical parts, pipes, nuts, bolts, a mace, a miniature replica of the Chrysler building and a jar full of crickets were all part of his hoarded junk, each resting in front of the confused Pines family as he continued his search with reckless abandon.
Out of his left breast pocket, a shard flew out and wedged into the floor at Dipper's feet. A familiar, glassy substance in the shape of an elongated diamond, carrying a delicate bi-colour hue.
Dipper's sharp mind immediately cottoned onto it. "Quentin, this is perfect!"
"Eh?"
"You have a shard of size-altering crystal!" He grinned, holding up the chunk of the rare gem. "If we shrink down the giant goose, the rest of the army might go back to being like… normal geese."
"Oh. I was going to construct a bird call that encouraged them to walk off of the cliff."
"Like lemmings!" Mabel piped in enthusiastically.
Ford figured it was best not to bother correcting Mabel on animal behaviour. After all, they had just seen geese being laid by a tree.
"That sounds.. Incredibly convoluted, Quentin." Dipper replied, not carrying the same amount of enthusiasm as his sister.
" That's what they said about maple syrup."
The family decided not to pursue that plan - or bizarrely irrelevant point of conversation - any further. Mabel made a mental note to ask later; she was all about learning the history of Maple Syrup.
"Hey, wait a sec - don't we need a flashlight or something?" She asked. "Y'know, to do the crystal magic?"
Dipper's face dropped. "Y-yeah. We do."
Pacifica and Dipper - to their horror - found that they had managed to exhaust their phone batteries by texting so much, while Mabel's photography hobby had drained hers by 11 that morning.
Ford and Stan hadn't really considered the idea of their phones having flashlightes. Or needing to be plugged in. They tended to treat theirs as paperweights. In any sense, they were currently occupied by punching and kicking the ever-advancing troupe of waterfowl out of the vicinity.
Dipper grew more and more anxious as he frantically tried to trick his cellphone into turning on, failing each time. "What do we do? What do we do?! We need a light source!"
Mabel didn't even have any candy to distract them. It was developing into a pretty messy circumstance.
Pacifica squirmed. She had an idea but felt… Pretty reluctant to speak up, as per usual. This wasn't her thing. It just wasn't . She wasn't comfortable being one of these nerdy monster hunters!
She was Pacifica, not Mabel or Dipper.
She should stay quiet, really-
"What are the chances that the headlights on the cart are still working?"
Nevermind. She said it. There was a pause, the family turning to her as she shrunk back and pretended she hadn't said a word. It was still a bit new to her, having family listen to her.
"I could kiss you!" Dipper laughed, throwing his arms around her. "That's an amazing idea!"
She blushed and smiled, holding her boyfriend with more than a generous touch of gratitude. "I won't stop you. But... maybe wait until you've tried it."
Dipper froze. "Wait. Me?"
"You did technically free the thing, Dipper." Ford said, taking the role of the responsible guardian - something which, compared to Stan, he was pretty competent at. "What were you even doing coming up here? You were told to stay at home!"
He pointed at Dipper's cast accusingly.
Dipper tried - in vain - to pull his t-shirt's sleeve down over it. "I uh…"
Ford and Stan both glared at the increasingly sheepish Dipper. It was, after all, one thing to be given an ordinary stern look - a Grunkle stern look was a pretty intense experience in comparison. Their bushy grey eyebrows lowered, their faces unflinching, arms crossed…
Dipper cringed. "Look, I just thought-"
Ford interrupted him. "You can explain later. And you will ."
Dipper huffed. "I was-"
"Consider yourself grounded. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Grunkle Ford…"
Stan punched a goose as it tried to lunge at his brother, sending it flying in a burst of feathers. "This guardian stuff is all well and good, but we've kinda got a situation here. We're gonna have to get through the damned things if we want to reach that cart!"
Pacifica took a deep breath. "Then we'll have to storm the things together."
"But you're petrified of geese!"
"Doesn't matter, Dipper. I'm scared of a lot of things we've come up against, I still dealt with it."
"Then it's decided!" Quentin snarled dramatically, arming himself with a clawhammer. "Let's break some tailfeathers."
"You need to stop with the action hero stuff, Quentin. You're way too old and posh for this stuff."
"Old and posh like a fox. "
The 8th and a half president of the United States cracked his neck, pushed his feet against the floor, and took a deep breath. Then, with barely a second of hesitation, he ran - ney, stormed into the flock of advancing birds, his arms swinging wildly as he screamed inarticulately in some sort of mid-Victorian war-cry.
Geese flew skywards as they lunged towards him, a narrow path developing through the troops as they scattered in fear from the maniacal president.
There was nothing like enthusiasm.
The Gooseliath stared, and honked in fury as his army began to fritter, releasing a series of strategic squawks and hisses with its surprising levels of intelligence.
Pacifica and Dipper's eyes widened.
With a chorus of splatters and splutches, reinforcements began to arrive from their purple berries, flooding into the battle, still slick with thick, sweet smelling juices and membranes.
It was war. A particularly bizarre war that would never reach the history books.
The Great Gravity Falls Goose Battle of 2013 was upon them.