"This area is quarantined!"

Dipper stood by, his prepared bowl of cereal still in his hands as Mabel slipped pages of newspaper over the dinner tabletop. His eyes roamed over the carving knives and empty bowls stacked in a neat little row towards the edge. He knew why he had such an uneasy feeling the night prior; Mabel loved October, and he should've known she'd had something up her sleeve.

Mabel patted the newsprint like a fond family pet, smoothing out wrinkles and clasping her hands to her chest as she fully scrutinized her work. She seemed to give a nod of approval before glancing at her brother over her shoulder. "So shoo."

Dipper sleepily blinked through stray locks of brown bedhead hair. He'd been awake for a whopping ten minutes. "Repeat that."

Mabel sat back on her haunches on a rickety chair, her festive sweater with candy corn colors too bright for Dipper's eyes at this hour. "Ford was growing a patch of science-y pumpkins about a mile from the Shack, Dipper! And he said they're finally ready and you know what that means?!"

"He grew something without me." Dipper sounded hurt.

"No! Well, yes, but besides that! That means we're gonna be cuttin' pumpkins and decorating pumpkins and carving pumpkins! It's the first day of fall, Dipper!" Mabel stood again, the excitement tinging her voice reminding Dipper of her last bout of excitement over their first day of school. "And this entire table is reserved just for that!" She waved a sparkly hand over the newspaper before pointing out the kitchen doorway. "So shoo. No eating here!"

"Mabel, it's a dinner table." Regardless, Dipper grabbed a spoonful of cereal and shoved it in his mouth. Standing or not, he wasn't ready to go hungry. "And a breakfast table and a lunch table and a whatever table. I think I oughta be allowed to eat here."

"Well, you're not," Mabel bluntly replied. She patted her cheeks, one of which sported a face painting of a black cat. Dipper had no clue how she managed to get herself festive in such early hours of the morning, but a lot of Mabel's abilities pointed to secret witchcraft. "It's gonna be Halloween, Dipper! That's more important than Stan's boring bran cereal anytime."

"One, anything is better than Stan's bran cereal. And two," Dipper pointed his spoon at his sister. "It's the first of October, Mabel. And six in the morning. I was woken up against my will, I deserve to be grumpy."

"Noted. I'll carve you a pumpkin with a grumpy face." Mabel turned the corners of her mouth down, but her grumpy face looked ridiculously forced. "Anyway, you gotta get dressed and ready! Ford says he's got a lot of pumpkins to bring!"

"No one's bringin' anythin' in my house," Stan spat, shuffling through the doorway in a rumpled suit and making an immediate beeline for the coffee machine. "Not from out there, unless it's from an honest-to-good store."

"The safe option," Dipper remarked, taking his bowl of cereal and heading back upstairs.

"But Grunkle Stan!" Mabel whined, leaning against the table and shuffling a newspaper. "Grunkle Ford is gonna bring pumpkins! Pumpkins! It's the very first step to autumn cheer besides multicolored leaf stamping and pumpkin spice lattes!"

"Pumpkin spice lattes are for hipster teenagers," Stan grumbled through his coffee.

"You only say that 'cause you're old," Mabel huffed, bringing her candy-corn striped sleeves into a pout.

"Look, kid, I don't need holiday messes in here anyway unless it's to appease the masses. And since I've already got autumn-themed stuff in the shop-"

"You spray-painted the shirts orange!"

"...autumn-themed stuff in the shop, I'm satisfied." Stan snatched a newspaper from the table, ignoring Mabel's protest as he sipped at lukewarm coffee and ambled out of the kitchen. Mabel refused to end it there and jumped from the chair, prancing after her Grunkle with determination flashing in eyes Stan would've sworn oughta be sleep-deprived from this ungodly hour.

"You can't just forbid us from fun autumn stuff!" Mabel declared, as Stan headed for his couch in the living room. "It's tradition! Dipper and I do stuff every year!"

"At your house, I bet."

"Once, we had October fun in the middle of an abandoned park but beside the point!" Mabel hopped up on the backrest of the couch, brown hair hanging down as she tilted her head to face her Grunkle. "Every day of October, we'd do something fun and autumn or Halloween related. And no matter what, we always did it even if the odds were against us! We went leaf-collecting in a thunderstorm!"

"Sounds ridiculous," Stan muttered over his coffee mug before pausing. "Or the thunderstorm deal anyway."

"Dipper cried at one point."

Stan hummed, seeming more and more disinterested as he returned to his newspaper. "Yeah, well, last thing I need is you kids makin' messes around the Shack. October's a busy year, kid. And with Soos outta commission with his kid, it's a lot more work than I was used to."

"We won't make a big mess," Mabel assured, ignoring the incredulous look Stan shot in her direction. "I mean, it's not like we're gonna bring about the end of the world again. The most we could do is a teensy accidental fire."

"Emphasize on the accidental."

"Accidental." Mabel hopped off the couch, propping her hands on her hips with a hopeful smile stretching across her face. "Sooo...is that a yes?"

Stan grunted, sipping from his coffee and locking his gaze back on the newspaper.

"I'm not hearing a no!" Mabel tapped her fingers on her chin, knowing they'd been greenlit, but it was going to take extra effort to drag Stan into the activities too. She'd find something fun. Eventually. "Are you gonna cut pumpkins with us?"

"Cutting pumpkins is a useless art. You're carving faces into a dead vegetable."

Mabel opened her mouth to protest, but found she couldn't really find an answer for that. "But Grunkle Sta-"

"Mabel!"

Both niece and Grunkle turned their heads to find Dipper clambering down the steps, his dark blue jacket slung over one shoulder and his knit cap shoved lopsided and covering one eye. He nearly tripped down the remainder of the stairs, stumbling to the floor with an audible "oof!". He gestured wildly towards the door even as Mabel shrugged in his direction.

"Grunkle Ford..." Dipper pointed again, flipping his jacket and beginning to slip it on backwards. "Grunkle Ford's back! And look what he brought!"

"Pumpkins. I told you this, bro-bro-"

"No, look!"

Intrigued, Mabel rushed to follow, hooking a hand on her brother's elbow. It only took a few seconds for Stan to jump to his feet and follow directly after.

Outside, Ford was pulling up with a trailer hooked onto the new truck they'd bought only a month prior. He had piles upon piles of pumpkins within the trailer, tangles of vines and leaves hanging from the edges and fluttering in the cooling wind. Stan pushed past the children and rushed to the car's window, motioning for his brother to open it. Ford, being a smart man, did not.

"Oh, man," Dipper gasped, finally fully awake as Mabel grinned.

The trailer was full of giant pumpkins.

They were of varying sizes, but all of them surpassed the twins' height. The trailer dipped from the weight, nearly scraping lines into the ground. A hacksaw, shovel, and chainsaw could be seen through the vines, and as the trailer bumped a bit, a smaller one of the monsterous pumpkins landed with a heavy thud on the grass.

Once Stan had quit yelling, Ford opened the car door and hopped out sans coat. Dirt was smudged over his face, caked in his hair, and covering his forearms. He looked pleased with himself, strolling to the trailer even as Stan demanded they just burn the things then and there.

"Where the heck did you even get these?!" Stan huffed, throwing his arms up and behind his head. His forehead wrinkled in frustration, but Ford didn't seem to notice. "Oh god, don't tell me you're buying stuff from the Man-otaurs again."

"Hardly. I pocketed quite a bit of cash just by selling some to them actually. They use it for an autumn ritual." Ford withdrew a wad of bills from his pocket, and a grin grew on his face once Stan ignored the money for a second before predictably snatching it up. He thumbed the bills and gleefully headed inside.

"...the Man-otaurs use cash?" Mabel asked hesitantly. "I thought they use sticks and animal pelts and manliness or something."

"I heard they're taking jobs in town now." Ford rolled up his sweater sleeves, gripping the edge of the trailer and heaving himself over the edge as the twins ran forward. "Anyway, I grew these myself. They're genetically modified to not only be giant, but to last for longer than three months! Well enough for the rest of autumn."

"Yes!" Mabel cheered, reaching her arms up to be lifted into the trailer too. She shrieked with laughter as Ford stooped and brought her up, and Dipper peered at the smashed pumpkin only a few feet away. The insides could very well be enough to swim in.

"You grew them without me," Dipper stated, pointing to the remains of the pumpkin. "These are huge and impossible and a breakthrough and you didn't let me help!"

"I was growing these far before October, Dipper," Ford assured, as Mabel giggled madly and crept around the enormous pumpkins in the trailer. "These took very long to grow. And I wanted it to be a surprise for you two. But, I will let you in on the little secret for the possibility of its size soon."

Dipper huffed, kicking at the pumpkin rind. "I guess."

"Dipper, look!" Mabel climbed over a pumpkin big enough to sustain her weight, and she crept on it like a skulking cat. "I want this one in the front yard!"

Ford held out his hands, motioning twelve fingers up to beckon Dipper over. The boy pouted at first, wondering if shunning his Grunkle could be a possibility. But after a second, the giant pumpkins were calling, and he ran to his Grunkle's arms.

"Are we gonna have to use a crane to get these out?" Mabel questioned, hopping from pumpkin to pumpkin. Dipper jumped up and crashed into her and the two of them went sprawling into the pile with loud matching yelps.

"We'll need to roll them down. Carefully." Ford jumped out of the trailer, dusting off his hands and pointing out towards the wall of the Shack. He moved his finger across in a straight line where wall met grass, mentally counting out the amount of pumpkins he could fit. "Yes, we'll line them up along the Shack wall here. I'm sure Stanley can use some for his attractions, but the rest's fate will be left entirely to you."

"Jack O' Lanterns!" Mabel gasped, clasping her hands to her face and looking towards her brother excitedly. "Giant jack o' lanterns, with giant candles, and giant shovels to scoop out the insides!"

"Now let's get those down. Gently. I'll grab a board and we'll roll them down here. No squishing any extremities." Ford left to seek out the right board as Dipper crept over the nearest pumpkin, a leaf fluttering in his face.

He spat it out of the corner of his mouth, glancing towards Mabel with a knowing look. "We're gonna need a bigger table."