Seeing the look on Old Man Northwest's face after stuffing the piece of paper into his mouth made the experience of sacrificing the money it would have given him totally worth it. Stan gave it another vindictive chew, wondering if he could make it into a good spitball like in high school.
Funny how he doesn't even seem surprised at the possibility of his family legacy bein' a fraud as much as he is interested in tryna cover it up.
...Unless he knew that was the truth all along.
Well, he did say that stuff about the town needing someone ta look up to...
Geez, what a jerk. He's worse than the kid.
As he pushed the wad of paper into his cheek with his tongue, his eyes landed on Preston, still standing meekly behind his father. The boy was staring at them in bug-eyed disbelief, probably not used to people defying his Old Man this blatantly, if at all. Stan waggled his eyebrows at him; to his surprise, for a half second the kid looked like he was trying to smother a giggle, as if there was a real human soul in that suit.
Finally Old Man spoke, in tones of sharp, clipped rage.
"If you bring this story to the press, you will regret it."
"Oh yeah? Why?" Ford challenged.
Old Man's eyebrows did a little dance up and down his forehead. "I wonder if you're aware, Stanford, of the amount of trouble your brother has gotten himself in with the law during the years before he came here."
Ford rolled his eyes. "Yes, I already know about that, we've been through this already-"
"But do the people around here know?"
Old Man Northwest's air of superiority returned. "How safe do you think they would feel, knowing that that cabin in the woods not only harbors an eccentric mad scientist, but his hardened criminal of a brother? Someone who's spent time in prison, and has several false identities on his record?"
Stan felt his gut clench and burn with anger-but also with a touch of fear.
Old Man went on, "Of course, it wasn't for anything serious, like murder, but who knows what crimes he committed that he wasn't convicted of? Or what he might be up to right now?" He stepped closer, staring down his nose at them despite being barely an inch taller than the Pineses. "Like those large amounts of gold that you've been taking to the city and selling in different pawn shops every few weeks-where do those come from, I wonder?"
"It's nothing illegal!" Ford interrupted.
Probably, anyway, Stan hoped. He wasn't exactly up to date on whatever statutes there might be regarding sales rights with supernatural creatures.
"That's what you say, of course. But I wonder; I really do. And of course, in a small town like this, if they've been stirred up against one small person, or group of people-" he clicked his tongue. "It doesn't bear thinking about."
Stan stepped up to his brother's side, readjusting his grip on the handle of the sword. Old Man's eyes flicked towards him, looking for a moment like he feared he might actually use it. Stan just asked in a flat tone, "You really think people'd get as worked up about my petty crimes as they would about all the crap your family's pulled?"
Old Man shrugged. "Perhaps not...but the fact remains that if you attempt to bring destruction on my family, rest assured that I will do as much to you."
Ford looked positively incensed that he would dare to misquote Sir Arthur Conan Doyle at them. He was opening his mouth, probably to correct him on the parts he didn't get right, when Old Man turned away and stalked towards his car.
"Come, Preston-we're going home."
The boy slinked after his father. As he got to the door, he hesitated for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something to them-but then he just climbed in.
For a minute, the little group silently watched the fancy car drive away.
At last Stan spat out the spitball and said, "Well, we uncovered the truth about a major conspiracy in Gravity Falls, but it's gonna be difficult for us ta do anything with what we know. On the other hand, it means that if they try ta dig up the dirt on us we can expose them too. I think that's what they call mutually assured destruction, right?"
"At least you didn't take his Judas money," Dan growled, as he resumed dragging Ghost Eyes and his buddy to the car. Trembley, finally paying attention to what was going on, sprang down from his perch on top of the tombstone and wandered over with interest to see what this strange "horseless carriage" was.
Stan's shoulders sagged. "Sorry, Sixer. Looks like I messed things up again."
Ford's head whipped around towards him. "What-? No-this isn't your fault, Stanley. You shouldn't blame yourself. And even if we didn't get the end results we expected, we still found some fascinating-artifacts!" His eyebrows raised in sudden realization. "We need to close up that entrance so they will be safe until we can bring them home! So go do that."
Stan managed a smile, and a mock salute. "Aye aye, Captain."
"We're not at sea, Stanley-you don't say 'aye aye' when you're on land."
"Whatever." And he headed back to that part of the cemetery.
Just in case, Stan went down and checked inside-thankfully the rooms still had all the stuff as far as he could tell, and there was no one else down here, so once he got outside he returned to the angel statue and pressed her finger down into place. The stone slab slid seamlessly (try saying that three times fast) back over the stairs.
"See ya later, gorgeous," he told the statue, and then returned to the car.
Trembley spent the drive to the hospital marveling at their speed, and that their lungs weren't collapsing from "going over thirty-five furlongs per jiffy." Stan had long since given up trying to figure out what he was talking about.
At the hospital, Dan dumped out the hench-teenagers in front of the door, with a note attached to Ghost Eyes's shirt reading, "Please make sure we don't have concussions or anything like that. Thank you." Despite his and Stan's objections, Ford tucked a wad of cash to pay for the hospital bill into his pocket. Then they quickly drove away before anyone could see them.
When they arrived back at their home, Trembley hopped out. "Gentlemen, I am needed elsewhere-"
"...Where?" Stan asked, confused.
"-but I will return when America needs me most! Until then, remember that I am right here-" he put a hand to his heart...that turned out to actually be reaching into his coat pocket. "On the negative twelve dollar bill!" He handed it to Ford.
"Um...thank you. I suppose." Ford looked at both sides with a critical eye.
"And for you, other Stan, I have this!" He handed Stan his President's Key. Stan suddenly felt a little better about how this day had gone.
"What am I, chopped liver?" Dan grumbled.
"Oh, of course! You are now an official congressman, brave giant!" Trembley produced a folded top hat, which he popped open and placed on top of the lumberjack's head (he had to stand on tiptoe, but he managed it). Then he raised his arms, and yelled, "Trembley away!"
Before they could blink, the former president leaped backwards, landing on a horse that they suddenly noticed standing by the side of the house. It reared briefly, and then galloped off into the forest (with Trembley still sitting backwards on it).
"Remarkable!" Ford said, staring after the retreating figures. "I think that was a genuine Coinci-Horse!" He pulled out his journal and flipped through it. "I know I wrote about them somewhere…"
Stan gave Dan a look. "How much do ya give his chances for survivin' the twentieth century?"
"He seems pretty adaptable," Dan mused. "On the other hand, I think he's ridin' right into Kill-Billy territory. So the odds're maybe about fifty-fifty right now."
"We're going to have to make a closer examination of that peanut brittle!" Ford announced. "I need to find out where it came from-if it was created here in Gravity Falls, and perhaps that gave it its life-sustaining properties, or if he put something in it, or-"
Dan gave a resigned sigh. "I'll get my truck-it's got more room in the back." He set off for his cabin.
Unfortunately, Auldman is pretty good at playing dirty.
So now the Pineses have made a mortal enemy out of the most powerful family in Gravity Falls; and the Corduroys were already their mortal enemies, so Dan doesn't feel very affected, but things could always get worse for him somehow.
What a lovely way to end the day.
Of course, once they get all the stuff back to the house and stored safely in the basement, Ford starts considering possible actions they could take should the Northwests really try to use Stan's criminal history against them or find out where they're getting their gold from. He definitely doesn't want Auldman to find out about the creatures living in the forest-he can just imagine him trying to capture, exploit and/or destroy them to satisfy his own greed. During his classes about humanity he warns his students of the possible danger, and devises a plan for everyone to go into hiding should the worst occur. Dan, whose family does apocalypse training every year instead of Christmas, is all too happy to help with this.
On his tours, Stan takes the assortments of cryptids by the Northwest mansion so they can thumb their noses at it, and forces himself to resist the temptation to use his key so they could sneak in and loot the place. Even when he learns from Dan about how his ancestor was killed building it, after being banned from the celebratory party.
Instead, he looks into possible curses that they could place on the Northwest family. So far he hasn't found one that seems like fitting enough punishment.