The moment they entered town, the result was instantaneous. It was like they had driven straight into a cloud of thick, choking white smoke. As if a gigantic locomotive had been erupting exhaust into the air around them.
It swept along the sides of the golf cart, licking into every nook and cranny of the thing as it rumbled along the poorly maintained highway. Pacifica almost instinctively sped up, just in case some crazy junk was about to take place.
Dipper listened intently. "Can you hear… a, like, squeaking? Or a snuffling noise?"
"Huh? All I can hear is this thing's engine. What, do you think there's kinda wild animal or-"
"BEAVER!"
Pacifica yelped and just barely swerved around the vacant, fluffy, buck-toothed creature as it stood there, in the centre of the road, drenched in silhouette, its tiny little ears twitching as it seemed to barely even acknowledge the fact it had almost been turned into a fluffy pancake.
Rather, the beaver turned slowly to face them - its eyes piercing the thick smog.
"What the hell?!" Pacifica snapped. "What kinda stupid animal stands on its hind legs like that in the middle of the freaking high street?!"
Dipper nodded, and stared from the back of the careening golf cart at the two bright red pindots from the dark, furry silhouette. He chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his head. "Man, that's creepy. The brake lights make the thing's eyes look bright red-"
"Dipper, the brake lights are out." Pacifica replied, swerving through Geron Street.
The two fell quiet for but a moment as they tried to come up with their own internal denials, excuses - anything, really, that could justify a beaver having its eyes lit up in crimson.
Pacifica looked up in the rear-view mirror at her boyfriend. "Dipper…?"
"...Keep driving. I'm- I'm sure it's fine." He gulped - though his eyes were still fixed on the queer, loaf-shaped animal's silhouette and its sinister, glowing red eyeballs as it stared.
And stared. And stared, blankly. Its luminous, scarlet pupils piercing like electrical lights through the enrobing fog. As it disappeared into the horizon, out of the view of that rattling little golf cart, shunting through the mist as if it was a bulldozer ploughing through snow, it seemed to only grow more haunting.
The two went very quiet as they travelled through the town towards Gopher Road in their rattle, plastic-clad steed. The air was growing colder, the darkness penetrated only by the cart's dim headlights and that strangely glowing haze that trailed around the place like ivy, wrapping, crawling and throttling everything it encountered.
Buildings seemed to disappear around them, soaking into the clouded atmosphere and fading from view as the soft, curling fingers and limbs of the thick mist continued their terrible grasp.
"Faster! Pacifica, this stuff isn't a normal fog, we need to get out of here!"
"I'm going as fast as I can, Dipper! You think I can't see that?!"
With a screech and eruption of burning rubber, the cart flew round the bend of Gopher Road and careened into the carpark, the two holding on desperately as it threatened to overturn while negotiating the corner.
They were only more fearful when they realised Ford was sitting on the porch, drinking his twelfth espresso of the evening. He didn't seem to particularly react to the sight of them, and instead simply glanced at his watch, his eyebrow raised.
He reacted more to the sight of Soos in his Hoo-Ha's Jamboree pyjamas. And even then, it was just rolling his eyes and putting on the most artificial smile he could.
"Hey, dude."
"Soos. How are you?"
"I'm fine, dawg. You see the game last night?"
"No."
"That's a shame, bro. You just lost it! Haha hahaha! Ahah! Ha!"
Silence ruled between the duo in response to the portly man's wit.
Ford's tone was increasingly less accommodating to Soos's… Soosness. "What are you doing awake?"
"I have a GPS on like, all of these golf carts, bro. Wanted to see what the power couple were up to. And get some popcorn."
"Hm."
"You uh… you don't talk very much, do you Mr. Pines?"
"Some people talk too much and say too little."
"Dude." Soos replied solemnly. "That's deep. You get that from a Smoothie Bottle? Those things are like the Threepac of our time. You ever listen to Threepac, Mr. Pines? Guy was the voice of a generation before he went to live underground-"
Soos was silenced by Ford holding up his hand and standing to meet the duo."Where on Earth have you both been?!"
Dipper grimaced. "We were just-"
"Your Uncle Stanley and I were worried sick!"
"Pretty sure he's asleep, dude." Soos corrected - before being silenced by Ford holding up his hand again.
"Sorry, sorry." Dipper huffed. "We just wanted to spend some time together, with summer nearly being over and all-"
"Dipper, you seem to forget that you're a teenage boy and Pacifica is a teenage girl." Ford replied, sharply - before his tone softened up again. "We can't just have you running off out of sight like that! We need to keep an eye on you to keep you safe and stop you both fooling around!"
Pacifica flushed red from the thinly veiled accusation and raised her voice. "Look, we're sorry, but something weird is going on!"
"Weird?" Ford replied, his tone changing once again. "Weird how?"
"Some kind of crazy fog is coming in from the lake and we almost hit a beav-"
Ford blinked and twisted his lip as he watched the thin, vaporous tendrils following the route that the golf cart had rattled down. His eyes widened, and, hurriedly pulling up his sleeve, the ageing, dour scientist looked at the date on his watch.
His face dropped like a stone. Any scolding he had for the two fell swiftly to the wayside. "Kids, Soos, get inside. And lock the doors."
Dipper glanced at his equally confused girlfriend. "Uh… Grunkle Ford, are you alright?"
"Did I stutter?" He barked in response, pushing the door open with his boot. "Hurry! Get in there!"
Dipper and Pacifica did as they were told and scarpered into the relative safety of the Shack, though they were still damned well confused as to what the fuss was about.
"Dude, it's just a fog, bro."
"This is not just a fog, Soos."
"You think it's, like, an acid fog?"
"You don't want to know. Get inside."
"Dawg, just tell me the threat level here. We talkin' like a storm, a twister or an Earthquake?"
Ford shrugged in earnest. "Twister."
"Dude, if it's somethin' that dangerous I gotta go look after Melody and my action figure collection. Catch you on the flip side!"
"Take care of yourself, Soos."
"Don't worry bro," Soos replied as he strolled back to the Airstream, punching the air in preemptive triumph. "I'm basically the survival king. The king!"