The morning came quickly, and did so with a fierce light through the lounge's window, beating into Dipper's eyes with mocking cruelty. Pacifica was nuzzled up against his chest, the empty bowl of popcorn was being licked clean by Waddles, and they could hear Ford and Stanley going through their usual early morning arguments in the kitchen.

It was hot. Probably one of the hottest days of the summer so far. Dipper cursed to himself as he noticed the sweat patches under his arms. Man, what a great thing for Pacifica to wake up to. Him soaking wet and stinking to high heaven.

He stretched and groaned, trying not to disturb her. Sleeping in the armchair made his back hurt. At least three springs were jabbing into his shoulder blades and he was pretty sure there was something moving inside the old furniture's frame.

He just presumed Stan was used to it. Or already had a terrible spine to such an extent that it simply melded around the faulty structure. Hell, Dipper figured that he was a comfier bed than the chair was, considering how soundly Pacifica was slumbering against him.

"You kids better start getting ready." Ford smiled, holding his extra large coffee cup. "Kevin's already on his way."

"Give.. Give us a second, Grunkle Ford." Dipper replied. "It was a long night."

"You know your Grunkle and I don't approve of you two sleeping in here. It's becoming a habit."

"We just dozed off!"

"I appreciate you two are close, Mason, but you're both going through a pretty turbulent stage of your life. It's easy for these things to lead somewhere." Ford replied. "Hell, I remember in high school I did quite the same."

"Grunkle Ford, seriously. It's literally just when we're watching movies."

"You seriously want me to believe you've watched this film repeatedly, in earnest, over the past few weeks?"

"W-we have!"

"I'd bet a mathematics degree against it, Dipper." Ford chuckled, holding up his hand to silence his great-nephew. "Not another word. I think it's wonderful that you both get along so well, and I hope it lasts - but you need to follow the rules while you're in the same household."

Dipper muttered something under his breath. It didn't go unnoticed. Ford twisted his lip - but knew better than to pursue it too aggressively. "Now, Stanley's told me exactly what you have on the cards today, and I need to run you through a few things."

Pacifica opened an eye, rolled it, and closed it again - all in one quick, unbroken and unnoticed motion. She smirked as Stanford began sounding exactly like Dipper probably will in a few years.

"Number one: If you can get in contact with the Knocker down there, you'd do well to do so. I've arranged his bag of… weird British candy already."

Dipper nodded, beginning to look somewhat more determined.

"Number two: Don't get caught. If you can use the Knocker's tunnels, do so. He might let you. You should be treating this as a knowledge-gathering mission, Dipper. Not a 'topple the Clurichauns in a single swoop' mission. Do I make myself clear?"

"Wait, you aren't coming?"

"Not this time. If the Clurichauns have rebuilt anything in The Crawlspace, it'll be for their height. You kids are much more likely to fit - both literally and figuratively - in there than your Grunkle Stanley and I."

"But-"

"We'll run a command centre for you. Give you walkie talkies, give you advice when required, you know the drill."

"What will you two be doing?"

"I just told you, running the command centre," Ford replied pointedly - even a little defensively - As he sipped his coffee.

Things went quiet for a moment - but it didn't last. There was a low rumbling as, outside the shack, a huge flatbed truck arrived with the Stan O' Warnestled on its trailer, surrounded by crates, fabric and lumber. Ford tried to maintain an innocent smile as the enormous vehicle bleated its horn.

The driver leaned out of his cab side window, a bulbous, saggy-faced man of limited teeth and even more limited tact. "Oi, buddy! I've got your boat and your do-it-yourself-boat-upgrade kit!"

Ford rolled his eyes.

"And your instruction manual." He added, glancing at his clipboard. " How to Design Ship's Quarters for a Teenager. Is that right, pal?"

The older man rubbed his temples as the round trucker clambered out of his wagon and leaned in through the window. He tried his damndest not to acknowledge the less than subtle trucker.

The trucker rested his arm on the window ledge, chewing gum with his mouth open. "Hey, buddy, I'm gonna need a signature here."

The scientist conceded and clicked his pen. "Yes, yes, of course…"

"Is the two tons of shipping grade lumber yours too, pal?"

"Whose else would it be?!"

"And the wholesale box of Nyum's Jelly Beans?"

"Alright, that one you can leave on the porch."

"My favourite flavour's the lime, myself." Replied the amiable driver.

"Good taste, my man." Ford smiled, politely - and a more forced polite smile, Dipper was certain he had never seen. "Just unload the rest of the goods in the car park."

"You mean the boat?"

"...Yes, the boat."

"The boat you've also bought modifications for?"

"Yes-"

"The boat you're planning to start modifying today in the parking lot, hence why I'm deliverin' it here?"

Ford held his face in his hands as the man from Exposition Couriers stood there innocently, picking his nose.

"Oh. Was the boat modification a secret? Sorry, bub. I'll shut up." The portly, hairy man got to work undoing the numerous clip-ties and bungee cords stabilising the explorer vessel and preparing it to unload.

Ford tried to maintain his innocent smile, but could now - at least - recognise the futility of trying to do so. "We've - uh - got a project to work on."

Pacifica giggled and immediately tried to pretend she didn't.

"Great, and an eavesdropping Northwest." Ford chuckled.

Pacifica finally submitted and opened her eyes. "You two are way too similar. Awkward, terrible at keeping secrets…"

"Devilishly handsome?" Dipper added in, hopefully, in a sudden burst of confidence.

Both Ford and Pacifica gave him a funny look.

"Aaaanyway." Ford continued. "Do those instructions make sense? Just because I shan't be there, I expect you both to act as if I were."

"Like, do you think you're our teacher or something? We act the same whether we're with you or not, Ford."

"Then it'll be a flawless, easy, and perfectly organised day trip for you both." the old scientist replied, indignantly. "I look forward to all of you coming back safe, sound and with a ton of knowledge."

Pacifica wrinkled her nose. "I mean, what, us not dying is the standard?"

"In this town? That's pretty impressive." Dipper shrugged. "Let's uh… let's get ready. I think I might need a shower."

Ford was about to confirm that, indeed, Dipper needed a shower - when the amiable albeit over-expository driver turned up once again to the window.

"Hey, do you guys know a man called Soos? He lives around these parts with a tourist thingy goin' on. Pretty sure he's my second cousin or first cousin or nephew or… Somethin'."

"That explains a lot," Ford mumbled to himself, before replying in a far more welcoming tone. "He lives in the luxury Airstream. Please, feel free to chat with him after you've done your job."

The trucker beamed, earnest and enthusiastic. "Oh, I'm all over that, buddy. Give me, like, six shakes of a bungee cord and you'll be all ready for your ship modific- secret ship modification. Thanks, pal!"

Ford, Dipper and Pacifica just exchanged an unamused glance - before splitting up to get ready for the mission: The return to The Crawlspace.

Upstairs, Mabel was hard at work. Brushing her hair, painting her nails, picking her sweatshirt, all to the lively tunes of Not-Quite-In-Sync. Bubblegum scented sprays abound, star-shaped earrings, the full shebang.

By her count, this was the first official monster hunt with Kevin Corduroy, and she was damned well going to make it one to remember. She was going to blow him away, and he was going to love it, and they were going to kiss, and they were going to get married, and move into a house shaped like a cat, and own several cats, and have lots of cat toys and-

And she couldn't wait for him to turn up at their doorstep, so her whirlwind summer romance could continue in style. With lots of glitter and her bestest sweater. And she might even get to punch a Clurichaun. What wasn't to like?

She might even take Waddles!

Na...They might be a pair of twins - one with an amazing intellect and fashion sense, the other being Dipper - a teenage lumberjack with a quiff and one of North America's most valuable young socialites… but a pig?

Ridiculous.

This was a serious mission.

And she was gonna kick tiny mobster butt.