Tad Strange strode purposefully up to Dipper, his hand extended. "I don't think we've ever been formally introduced," he said, shaking Dipper's hand with a firm grip. "I'm—"

"I know who you are," interrupted Dipper. He turned to the Multibear, and asked, "Are you sure you understand what the human phrase 'the big guns' means?"

The Multibear chuckled, a deep rumbling sound, and said to Tad. "Come now, my friend, it is time to drop the farce."

Tad rolled his eyes and sighed. "You woodland creatures have no sense of whimsy." Glancing at Dipper's costume, he remarked "Now he looks like he could use a little whimsy, himself. Seriously kid, I'm flattered, but the outfit's all wrong. And the hair? Ehhh, I've seen better. So nice you took the time, though."

Dipper narrowed his eyes. Clearly he was missing something. "What are you even talking about? I'm dressed like Puck, from A Midsummer Night's Dream."

"Ugh. Frickin' Shakespeare," spat Tad. "Should've never granted his wish to be a great writer. Writers take waaay too many liberties."

"I—what?" Dipper was beyond confused.

"Really? Still clueless?" Tad said with a wicked grin. "Yo, Multibear, you said this kid was supposed to be smart."

"Robin, please just explain yourself to the young man," said the Multibear, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Robin? But you're Tad Strange…" Dipper trailed off.

"Ugh, the name thing," groaned Tad. "Always the name thing. The ancient peoples never could come to a consensus on what to call me. Well, I've always heard showing is better than telling, so—"

Tad Strange popped out of existence. In his place, stood a short, twenty-something man, with shaggy brown hair and a goatee, a mischievous glint sparkling in his vividly green eyes. He was shirtless, and quite fit. Dipper didn't pay attention to the majority of the young man's appearance, however, being that he was distracted by the gigantic ram's horns sprouting from his head, and the fact that he had goat legs.

"Puh… Puck?" stammered Dipper.

"I've been known to go by that name, yes," the satyr said. "Also Pan, Robin Goodfellow, Hobgoblin, Pooka, Jack Robinson, the list goes on. Like I said, nobody could ever come to a consensus as to my 'official' name. It's really quite tedious," he stated with disdain.

"His name tends to change depending on the region and time in history," supplied the Multibear.

"Oookay," said Dipper slowly. "So… who are you really? And why were you Tad Strange?"

The satyr laughed loudly, the echo within the cave making him sound maniacal. "This kid gets straight to the point! Teddy here calls me Robin, but thanks to Will Shakespeare's dumb play, I am most well known as Puck, so I guess call me that. And I've always been a tad strange," he quipped, winking at Dipper.

Dipper stared at Puck blankly.

"Oh, c'mon kid, lighten up. If you must know, I was taking an extended vacation. Being a god isn't all sunshine and daisies." He paused and grinned, a small bouquet of daisies materializing in his hand. He tossed them over his shoulder, and they burst into a cloud of shimmering glitter. "I mean, it could be if I wanted it to. But sometimes a god just needs time to unwind, you know? Mingle among the mere mortals. Be normal."

Multibear huffed. "You had better clean that up. If you don't I'll be finding glitter in my fur for months. I don't want to sparkle."

"Ah yes, glitter, the herpes of the arts and crafts world," said Puck. "We can't have you spreading herpes, now can we?" He snapped his fingers, and the pile of glitter vanished.

Dipper crossed his arms. "Right. So we've established you can do magic tricks. How exactly are you supposed to help me rescue Wendy from the Green Realm?"

"Dipper, you must try and show some respect," chided the Multibear. "Robin is not your average satyr. You heard him—he is a god."

"God of what, exactly?" asked Dipper. "Look, if we're going to be talking for long, I'm going to sit by the fire. This mere mortalis getting kind of cold." He walked over to the fire and sat in front of it, cross-legged. Multibear padded over and sat next to Dipper with a sigh.

Puck continued to stand, and began pacing as he attempted to answer Dipper's question.

"Okay, Dipper, here's the thing. I'm a nature god, but also a trickster. I can conjure things out of thin air. Pretty much anything—if I can imagine it, it happens. I can grant the wishes, or come to the aid of mortals who I deem worthy. However, if I deem you unworthy, or I just don't like your face, I can cause all sorts of chaos for you."

"So what you're telling me is I need to stay on your good side, then?" asked Dipper sarcastically.

"Well, yeah, that's kind of a given," said Puck. "Although I already deemed you worthy of my aid before you even needed it. I kept an eye on you all summer, you know."

Dipper furrowed his brows. "Why?"

"Cause you got spunk, kid. I like the cut of your jib," said Puck, and then muttered quickly "Plus you thwarted an apocalypse that I might have accidentally had a hand in."

"Wait, what?" asked Dipper.

"Let's just say, Bill Cipher? Not one of my better ideas."

"I—you—he—what?!" Dipper sputtered.

"Dipper, you are losing sight of why Robin is here," interjected the Multibear. "He agreed to help you rescue your Wendy from the Green Realm—a task you can certainly not do without him."

"Fine," said Dipper. He glared at Puck. "We'll just have to discuss thatlater. How do you propose I rescue Wendy, when humans can't get into the Green?"

"Uh, durr," mocked Puck. "By not being human, dummy."

Dipper's left eye twitched. "What exactly… would I be?"

"Well that remains to be seen, doesn't it?" asked Puck with a mischievous grin. He crooked his finger at Dipper. "Let's have a look at you."

Dipper stood, reluctantly. Multibear nudged him forward, and he slowly made his way over to stand in front of Puck.

"First things first, let's get you out those rags," said Puck, as he lazily waved his hand, and Dipper's clothes vanished.

"HEY!" screeched Dipper, crouching down to cover his bits and pieces. Multibear roared with laughter in the background.

"Let's see now… centaur?" Puck muttered to himself. At the word 'centaur,' Dipper's torso was suddenly attached to the body of a large, chestnut horse.

"What the?!" Dipper yelped, craning his neck to stare at his glossy, brown equine form. He swished his tail angrily. "Seriously?!"

"Nah, too bulky," said Puck, ignoring Dipper's outburst. He snapped his fingers. "Gnome!"

Instantly, Dipper was about shin-height with Puck, a bushy beard sprouting from his face.

"Huh-uh, nope, not happening. I refuse to be a gnome," Dipper said, stamping a tiny foot in frustration.

"Yeah, gnomes are kind of useless anyway," said Puck absently, lost in thought. "Hmm…werewolf?"

Were-Dipper's hackles rose and he growled menacingly.

"Right, you don't like that one either," Puck observed. "Too cliché anyway. Ha! Pixie!"

Dipper was suddenly about four inches tall, flitting about in the air on iridescent wings. "Okay," he squeaked shrilly, "Now you're just doing this to piss me off!"

"I would never!" said Puck, feigning hurt, holding a hand over his heart. "Wait! I know what you should be… Me!"

Dipper was again his normal height, teetering as he tried to balance on his new shaggy, brown goat legs. He head felt heavy under the weight of enormous, curled ram's horns.

"No offense, but this isn't permanent, is it?" asked Dipper. "Because I'm pretty sure Wendy isn't into goat-men."

"Yeah, about that," said Puck casually, "Once I settle you into this form, it is permanent. HOWEVER," he said loudly, as Dipper started to protest, "I'm not making you an average, run-of-the-mill satyr. As I said—I'm making you me."

"What does that even mean?" said Dipper, still struggling to keep his head up under the weight of his new horns.

"Ah, sorry kid, I forgot how heavy these things really are," said Puck, pointing to his horns. "Let's give you the nubby ones instead."

Dipper's head suddenly snapped back, as the weight he'd been struggling with disappeared. He touched his forehead, and felt small horns similar to the ones he'd been wearing with his costume. These, however, were firmly rooted into his forehead. They were part of him now.

"You didn't answer my question," said Dipper, scowling at Puck. "What do you mean you're making me you?"

The Multibear ambled over next to Dipper, and put a paw on his shoulder. "Dipper, my friend, he is bestowing upon you a great honor."

"Let's just say," said Puck, grinning, "that I was enjoying my time as Tad so much, I'm thinking of extending my vacation indefinitely… so I'm making you my protégé."

"…You're making me a god?" said Dipper, bewildered.

"No," said Puck. "Well, yes, technically. You're going to be like a god intern."

"Don't I get any say in this?" asked Dipper. "This is kind of overwhelming."

"I am sorry this is upsetting you, my friend," said the Multibear. "But this is the only way for you to rescue your Wendy. Is she worth all this to you?"

"Of-of course she is," sighed Dipper. "Definitely. This is just kind of a big deal. It's going to take some time to get used to, I think."

"You don't know the half of it," said Puck with a snort. "Becoming me also means gaining my powers. Not all at once, either. Using them is going to take practice. You might not be able to control a lot of it for a while. And the complex stuff, like teleportation, that's a long way off."

"Well, I guess I'll take it as it comes," said Dipper, squaring his shoulders. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get my girlfriend back."

"Ah, young love," swooned Puck. "It's just so—wait a minute. How old areyou kid?"

"I'm thirteen," said Dipper, trying to stand a little taller, wobbling on his hooves. "So technically, a teen."

"Oh, this won't do at all," said Puck, clucking his tongue. "I dohave an image to maintain. Sorry, wehave an image to maintain." He paused for a moment, rubbing his goatee in thought. "Let's see how thislooks."

A full length mirror appeared in front of Dipper. He stared at himself in awe. The goat parts were still there, the horns slightly more prominent, and the legs a little shaggier. But what Dipper was more interested in was his physique. He was still clearly Dipper, but with some…adjustments. He was another few inches taller, his jaw was chiseled, and his shoulders broad and muscular. His chest was covered in a light brown fuzz, and his abdominal muscles were clearly visible.

"I have abs—is that? That's my voice?" Dipper exclaimed, his hand going to his throat. "HOLY CRAP I SOUND LIKE DAVID DUCHOVNY."

"You have been given a rare gift, indeed," said the Multibear, sounding impressed.

"This is a good look for you," said Puck. "And you're welcome. Now just to be clear: you're seventeen. Good luck with those hormones."

"Wait, I'm actuallyseventeen? Like, I don't just look it, I am seventeen?" asked Dipper.

"Yup. I aged your cells, all of you. I have to say, kid," remarked Puck. "You look almost better than I do. Almost."

"This is my final form," whispered Dipper. "Oh crap, Mabel is going to freak."

"Okay, this has all been fun and whatnot, but Tad's favorite show is coming on in a few minutes, so we gotta wrap this up," Puck said briskly. He clapped his hands, and the mirror in front of Dipper disappeared, so that they were once again face to face. Puck stepped forward, and put his hands on Dipper's shoulders.

"Dipper Pines, I am bestowing upon you a great honor, and great responsibility," he said, his voice serious for once. "I have not only given you my form, I am also giving you my powers. As I said earlier, you will not be able to use them all at once. You will have to learn to control them gradually. It will take time. It will probably be frustrating. But you have proven yourself worthy of this gift time and time again. I have faith that you will succeed in your task of rescuing your girlfriend from the clutches of the Green Man, and do me proud. Are you prepared to take your place as my protégé, and absorb my powers?"

Dipper nodded mutely, the gravity of the moment overwhelming him.

Slowly, Puck raised a hand toward Dipper's head, pointing with his index finger. He moved it closer to Dipper's face, until it was directly in front of his nose. Then he booped Dipper's nose gently, saying "Wert."

Dipper blinked in surprise. "That was a little anti-climactic."

"Eh, well, not everything can be exciting, kid. Now, if you'll excuse me," Puck was suddenly gone, replaced by Tad Strange, "my show is about to come on. Bye Multibear; it's been fun!"

"WAIT!" cried Dipper.

Tad sighed and crossed his arms. "What is it? I swear, if you make me miss something important to the plot…"

"What…uh… am I supposed to do now?" asked Dipper. "How do I get into the Green Realm? How will I find Wendy?"

"Oh, your guide will be at the Mystery Shack. They'll help you get in. As for what to do once you're in…" Tad shrugged his shoulders. "You're on your own. Bye now!" Tad Strange vanished, leaving Dipper and the Multibear alone in the dimly lit cave.

"I suppose you should head down to the Mystery Shack now, and find your guide," said the Multibear.

Dipper sighed. "I guess so... Wait, where are my pants?!"

"Most satyrs don't wear pants. The fur covers the privates, so no one can see," said the Multibear, as if this was common knowledge.

"Well, I want more than fur between Little Dipper and the big wide world," said Dipper, scowling. "Plus my cell phone was in my pocket."

"I am sorry, Dipper. I do not know where the items that Robin makes disappear end up," said the Multibear. "That is if they even still actually exist somewhere. They may not."

"Great," muttered Dipper. "I was supposed to text Mabel when I knew the plan. Instead, I just get to surprise everyone when I show up at the Mystery Shack as a seventeen-year-old half-goat."

"That will indeed be surprising," said the Multibear, nodding. "Honestly, though—if you were to text your sister that you have been made a sort-of-god, and are also now a satyr, as well as seventeen years old… would she even believe you?"

"With Mabel, you never know," said Dipper, shrugging. "This is going to be an interesting evening."

Dipper walked over to his backpack, which he had thankfully deposited on the ground before being unceremoniously stripped of his clothing. He grabbed jeans and a shirt, and attempted to put them on.

"Son of a—my clothes don't fit at all anymore!" he groaned. He couldn't get the shirt down over his now broad shoulders, and his jeans would not pull up past his muscular goat thighs.

"You are a bit bigger now, Dipper Pines," said the Multibear, suppressing a laugh. "Robin has the ability to materialize anything out of nothing—perhaps you can try to cultivate that particular power on your walk back down to the Mystery Shack."

Dipper smiled weakly. "I guess that's all I can do." He shoved the offending garments into his backpack, and slung it over his shoulder. "Well, Multibear, thanks for all your help. I'm off to stumble clumsily through the forest on my new legs, and then scare the bejesus out of my sister and our friends."

"Goodbye Dipper, and good luck," said the Multibear, as he walked Dipper to the entrance of his cave.

Dipper silently touched the Multibear's shoulder and nodded. Then he turned and made his way out into the chill winter evening, toward the Mystery Shack, and the unknown guide that would accompany him into the Green Realm.