Valley Station, the wooden sign said. Gravity Falls' new railhead was a rusting but irresistibly charming location; a crooked little log cabin alongside a few bits of railroad. There, on one of the spurs, sat a growing testament to the town's dedication.

It glittered in a deep, dark blue, sat upon red wheels, every corner wrapped in brass.

"Spitterin' banjo-doodles." McGucket mumbled as he rolled a wheel onto its axle. The new locomotive was proving a difficult beast to assemble, though - in any other eyes - it'd be damned impressive to see the progress that they had made.

His crack team - which, in practice, was nothing more than him, Manly Dan, Toby Determined and Bud Gleeful - were a group of dedicated workers, and all followed his instructions to the letter, eager to see the locomotive prepared for service. If they weren't working on the station, they were riveting, welding or bolting.

The engine was already standing on most of its wheels, its rods and pipes readily assembled. The tubes were in place, the bolts tightened, and the wheelsets - for the most part - were properly laid upon the slither of track that stood underneath the cattle shelter they had acquired from farmer Sprott.

"Ah say, it's lookin' like a fine piece'a machinery." Bud smiled, polishing up the lamp lens. "Y'all think this'll go some way to improvin' mah reputation round here?"

"I already haaave a good reputation!" Toby said excitedly from underneath the locomotive's frames. "I just reeaally like getting covered in oooil!"

Bud twisted his lip and figured that his current company was in no place to offer advice.

The Gleeful patriarch's offer to help, at first, had been quite a surprise to the townsfolk. After all - he wasn't in the best repute, especially since Gideon had ended up back behind bars. Again. All the same, he was a welcome one.

Bud had a certain knowledge of mechanics from his time selling used cars, could lift more than Toby and McGucket - and, most importantly, seemed genuinely interested in helping. Perhaps it was all down to a faint guilt of the long-forgotten Society of the Blind Eye. While he wasn't sure why, he couldn't shake an odd feeling that he had wronged the likes of McGucket, somehow...

Gravity Falls was nothing if not a place to give people a chance, and the rotund, bucktoothed Texan had rapidly carved his place out for himself on the after-track crew. Truth be told, it could be said that every member of the crew - despite a certain lack of knowledge - was more than paying for their keep. The pile of discarded parts was already looking ready to turn its first wheels. Even if they weren't all there yet.

Fiddleford continued cursing away to himself as tightened the nuts on the locomotive's driving wheel. "Ah jus' can't believe we've had to rebuild th'thing, dagnabbit!" McGucket said, firmly. "She wus meant to be ready - ready for testin' an' trainin'!"

Bud sipped his fine imported coffee as he listened to the Hillbilly's concerns. "Now, Fiddleford, ah reckon it won't be too long. Besides, with yore brains, she'll prolly run better th'n ever once you've gone over it."

"Ah can't drive this danged thing with mah cataracts, Bud! We need the fuel, we need the crew, th'wagons're barely ready and- and-" Fiddleford huffed and sat on a stray sandbox. "Ah can't deal with th'idea of lettin' the town down."

"I'm sure it'll all be worth it when th'profits come in, Fiddleford."

"The railroad's gonna be useful fer mah factory, ain't no doubt - but you really think the passenger railroad is gonna be a huge money spinner? It's a symbolic gesture, Bud. Y'all may not be as principled, with yer used cars an' freaky kid, but dangit, I wanna give somethin' back!"

"Back for what?"

"When I was in my worst spot, Gravity Falls just accepted who I wus! I built a gobblewonker to get sum attention, and a giant device to block the sun to kill my ex-wife's flowers... I wus a messed up McGucket. But the town? They jus' accepted me."

Bud raised an eyebrow and looked to Fiddleford. "It's an acceptin' place, Fiddleford, but surely that means they'll accept a few delays, huh?"

"I've only been to jail four tiiimes!" Toby chirped excitedly, rubbing the thick locomotive oil into his shirt. "This town is like a woonderlaand!"

Fiddleford huffed and - with a lightly renewed smile - got back to work. "Y-you're probably right, Bud. I saw some paperwork that said these things took days to assemble, while we're doin' it in one."

"An' we've still got two days for the inspector comin'." The car dealer smiled, tipping back his straw hat as he picked up a polishing rag. "She's gonna be the finest engine they've ever seen. Y'thought of a name for her?"

"We could run a contest in the Gossiper!" Toby piped in.

"Now, come now, Toby. You an' I both know that nobody reads your newspaper."

"Why must you hurt me with your truuuuths?!"

Manly Dan, meanwhile, was carving, sawing and chiselling the railroad's cars into a fine rake of coaching stock. His workload - and pace - was more than assisted by the fact he was a man strong enough to tear a tree-trunk with his bare hands, and capable of using his teeth as a chisel on all but the strongest mahogany.

Every carriage was properly assembled, and already receiving its first coat of specially-chosen paint. It was a testament to Dan's craftsmanship if ever there was one. And a substantial testament to his restraint, considering he hadn't carved a single beard or moustache in the resulting rolling stock.

"ANY IDEA WHEN THE COAL'S GONNA GET HERE?" He yelled as he planed the latest piece of decorative awning.

"I've got a group down there as we speak gettin' the stuff dug up, Dan!" McGucket beamed (as much as a largely toothless man can beam.)

"THERE'S A LOT OF STORIES ABOUT THAT PLACE, MCGUCKET." Dan said, his distinctive brow furrowed. "YOU CAN'T DISPENSE 'EM ALL."

"Shucks, we only need a few tons. If we catch any funny business, ah guess I'll just import."

"You aren't waitin' to see what Ford Pines manages to dig up?" Bud asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Naw." Fiddleford replied. "I love the Pines, but they sure are a paranoid bunch. What could go so wrong with coal? A buncha smoke? That coal mine was workin' for over eighty years. The only thing I ever heard of were a bunch of crazy miners."

"Well, they sure are a moral family." Bud shrugged. "Can't blame 'em for the concern. They've saved the town before, prolly worried about it going wrong again, huh?"

"You're danged right. That buncha kids an' old men are heroes, Bud." The old engineer replied with a smile, lubricating the locomotive's giant limb. "Y'can always expect the Pines family to always do the right thing."