Ford was striding down a long corridor in the castle, the back of his long coat trailing behind him in a very dashing, impressive fashion.
To his surprise, it was clean, at least comparatively so; granted, it had been a while since anyone had taken a broom to the floor, but at least there were no dead leaves or spiderwebs anywhere, and there was a clean blue carpet laid out in front of him, and one or two tapestries decorating the walls. Lanterns hung from braziers every few feet, but he and Fiddleford had been working on a new invention that would create a more consistent light source, and planned on setting it up throughout the castle.
The experiment had been going very well; he was certain that he just needed to give it another try.
Up ahead of him, at the end of the corridor, was a large door: his intended destination.
It was unique among the doors in the castle; unlike the rest of them, it was made of iron. There was also a peculiar design on the front, like an upside-down triangle with a large, pale blue hole in the middle.
Ford grinned in anticipation as he reached it, and extended a hand towards the doorknob-
-and nearly jumped out of his skin when a horrible screaming noise assaulted his ears, shocking him into wakefulness amidst a flurry of tangled limbs and alarmed cries from all sides.
It took him a bewildered moment to remember where he was, and what had happened the day before, followed by realizing that the pressures at his sides were the children, while the heavy weight that had made his legs fall asleep was that dog who had knocked him to the floor yesterday, who had apparently decided that he hadn't made Ford's life hard enough.
He sat up anxiously, trying to determine the source of the new, unfamiliar noise and whether it was a threat that he'd have to fight-and then did a double take as he registered the bird standing in the window.
It was very large, pale white, and had several impressively long tailfeathers.
As soon as it saw him watching, it raised its head and let out that high squawk again.
"Whoa," Mabel said at last, rubbing at her eyes, "Check out the funny chicken!"
The bird let out a slightly-less-piercing noise that almost sounded shocked, or even offended, and did a little agitated dance back and forth that made its talons clatter on the windowsill.
Part of Ford wondered how it had managed to get the window open from the outside, even as he pulled his glasses on to take a better look at it.
"That's not a chicken, Mabel. It's a very unique specimen of white peacock. Though-" he tilted his head thoughtfully- "come to think of it, it might actually be a peahen. It lacks the wide crest of tailfeathers that the males are known for."
The peahen's head dipped up and down, almost like she was nodding. Then she turned on her heel and hopped back out the window, evidently satisfied that she had completed her mission in waking them up.
"Just how many animals live here?" Dipper asked in bewilderment.
As it turned out, when they had dressed and made their way downstairs the answer was, 'at least one more.'
When they found the kitchen, there was a large, old-looking gray cat lying curled up next to the stove, who opened its eyes and greeted them with a soft, whispery "mrow."
Soos, who had accompanied them, immediately wandered over and licked her cheek in greeting; she patted his nose with her paw in a way that seemed almost affectionate, before getting onto her hind legs and proceeding to wash his ears.
...Ford was really starting to suspect that these were enchanted animals of some kind.
He wasn't sure whether to be more relieved or perturbed that the kitchen was the cleanest part of the house.
Even though the floor was still pretty dusty, the table and countertops looked as though they had been recently scrubbed, and there was a large platter on the table adorned with a loaf of bread, some butter and honey, and a jug of water. There was no sign of the beast, but his pawprints in the dust showed that he had been here recently.
Mabel didn't hesitate; she just went over to the table and ripped a hunk off the loaf, before she began generously smearing it with honey.
"Mabel, wait!" Ford held out a hand to stop her.
"Why? I'm starving!" she protested.
It occurred to Ford that this was the first meal any of them would have had in around half a day; his stomach inadvertently grumbled.
"...All the same, we should be a little careful," he said, even as he pulled up a chair and sat down. And almost jumped out of his skin for the second time that day when a voice behind him rumbled, "Oh please, if I wanted ta kill ya, I wouldn't waste time with poison."
The beast grinned toothily as he stepped into the kitchen; everyone started to get up, but he waved a paw at them until they sat down again.
"You can get started whenever ya get enough ta eat."
Taking that as her cue, Mabel started eating, and after a more hesitant second Dipper followed suit.
Ford's eyes narrowed, but at last he took a slice of bread for himself, adding a small spread of butter on top.
For a while everyone ate in more or less silence, while the beast leaned against his cane and watched them, looking lost in thought.
Once the last crumbs of bread had been devoured, he scratched the fur behind his ear and started opening his mouth to speak-but before he could, Mabel turned to him and smiled brightly.
"I just realized, we haven't introduced ourselves yet! I'm Mabel, this is my brother Dipper and our Grunkle Ford!"
The beast wrinkled his nose. "...Grunkle? What's that, some kinda chieftain title?"
Mabel giggled. "No, it's just short for 'great uncle'!" She bounced a little in her seat. "What's your name?"
The beast looked oddly taken aback for a second, before his eyes darted towards the floor.
"...Don't have one."
"What?!"
"Monsters don't have names, kid."
"That's not true," Ford felt obligated to point out. "There's plenty of myths about creatures with names, like Scylla and Charybdis, or Jenny Greenteeth, or-"
"Well, this one doesn't have one," the beast growled, shooting him an irritated glare.
"We need to call you something!" Mabel protested. "Something that's better than Mr. Beast."
He rolled his eyes, and finally muttered, "Just pick something, I don't care."
"Okay, your new name is...Fluffy Snuzzleface!"
Dipper cracked up laughing, and even Ford couldn't help chuckling at the beast's facial expression. He could tell, without even asking, that he was contemplating a future of being referred to as Fluffy Snuzzleface.
After a second he said, "Okay, you are no longer on the naming committee."
"Oh, come on! That's a beautiful name!"
"No, it's stupid."
Mabel looked a little hurt, but the beast didn't appear to notice. He was busy scratching his head again, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. At last he said, "...Soledad."
"Huh?"
"That's a name I can live with. Soledad."
Mabel wrinkled her nose. "Sounds kinda foreign."
"That's cuz it is." And the newly christened Soledad headed for the door, gesturing for them to follow him.
In the main entryway they found a pile of mops, brooms, buckets, dusters, rakes, and other cleaning supplies.
"Where did you get these?" Ford asked curiously.
Soledad shrugged. "Eh, you know-found 'em lyin' around."
Meanwhile, in the village of Gravity Falls, several people woke up to find that various cleaning supplies had gone missing, and in their places were a few pieces of wood that had been roughly carved into the shape of coins. On one side there was a messy etching of...something vaguely animal-shaped, and on the other side there were words, looking like they'd been written by someone who had never tried their hand at woodcarving before: "Beast Euros! It's money!"
Dipper saw Ford's eyes narrow a little, but he didn't speak; he just folded his arms.
"So," Soledad said, "for your first job I want you three ta make this whole castle spotless, however many days that takes. Sweep, mop, whatever it takes ta get all the gunk out. Cuz after that, the real work begins!"
Dipper tilted his head. "What real work?"
"Well, this place is a creepy castle out in the middle of the woods that a lotta folks are scared of, right?"
Mabel nodded. "Uh-huh. There's lots of rumors about it in the village that we heard before we came here."
...Granted, those rumors had all come from one person, and it was just the one time, but Dipper supposed that the point still stood.
Soledad grinned, and rubbed his paws together. "And yet you little gremlins came here anyway. I think you're not the only ones who'd do that if ya had the chance, especially if ya thought there was somethin' here worth lookin' at."
"What are you getting at?" Dipper asked.
The beast raised his arms dramatically into the air, twirling his cane. "I'm gonna turn this whole place into an attraction!"
"The thing you gotta understand about people is, as much as they claim ta hate weird, creepy stuff like monsters and old castles, they're also really into the thrill of it. That's why they like tellin' ghost stories, and why teenagers sometimes come here and dare each other to try and knock on the front door or whatever."
As if on cue, the one side of the door that was still hanging abruptly fell off its hinges. Soledad glanced at it.
"You gotta fix that, too."
He spun back to face them.
"So, I bet if we offered folks a chance ta come here, see a real haunted castle and all the weird stuff it has inside-not ta mention the real live, terrifying beast-they would be more'n happy ta pay for a chance ta do so!"
It was a pretty crazy idea...but the way he talked about it, using that big theatrical voice of his...Dipper couldn't help thinking that it was just crazy enough to work.
Wait a minute.
"What kind of stuff are you thinking about showing people?"
Soledad shrugged. "Eh, sure I can put together some weird taxidermy, maybe a few fake gold necklaces I can pass off as 'cursed amulets'." He cackled at the idea. "You wouldn't believe the kinda stuff people can be suckered into believing! And hey, it might also get the occasional angry mobs off my back-"
"I can't believe you."
Dipper looked at Ford in confusion-which turned into shock at the sheer rage burning in his grunkle's eyes.
Ford marched towards the beast, fists clenched at his sides and appearing to have completely forgotten that he was facing down a seven-foot tiger.
"You-you would take advantage of other people's curiosity, just for profit?!"
Soledad tilted his head...and then nodded.
"Yeah, I think I would."
"That-that is the absolute lowest form of-how can you-!" Ford was apparently too angry to even form a coherent sentence. At last he spluttered, "What do you even need money for?! You're a monster who lives all alone in a broken-down castle, what would you even spend it on?!"
Dipper winced at the way the beast's ears flattened, and the fur on the back of his neck began to rise. "Gee, I'd almost forgot, thanks for reminding me!" he growled back. "And what I choose ta do with it is my business, not yours!"
"It is my business when you're planning to make a mockery of my entire field of work! I go out of my way to study real anomalous creatures, and actually learn things, and you-you're planning on doing the exact opposite! I can't let you-!"
A large claw grabbed the front of his shirt, lifting him until they were eye to eye.
"Look, marshmallow head." Soledad's voice had lowered to a deep, rumbling snarl that made the hair on Dipper's arms stand on end. "Last I checked, this wasn't your decision to make. This is my castle, and my rules, and I'll do whatever I want with it! And you don't haveta like it, but we made a deal, so you can just shut. Your. Yap!"
The last word was accompanied by a flash of his fangs that had Ford flinching back, before the beast half-lowered, half-dropped him to the floor, and then stormed off into the depths of the castle.
Ford turned away, and with a frustrated noise ended up kicking the remains of an old chair lying on the floor nearby into splinters.
Dipper and Mabel flinched away, instinctively grabbing onto each other.
They gave each other nervous looks, and after a second decided it would be best to make themselves scarce.
They both grabbed brooms from the pile, and made their way upstairs to get started working.
Well, well, well!
Looks like the gang's all here-and with a couple of new faces in the crowd too!
This could be a bit of a game changer, am I right, folks?
Unfortunately, thanks to that stupid deal, ol' Six-Fingers's head is off-limits. For now, anyway.
But hey, maybe Pinetree or Shooting Star could be a little more...open-minded...
Even when they don't remember each other, the boys can still find something to fight about.
So sad.