Dipper and Mabel walked into the gift shop. They'd already decided on the method they were going to use to get Grunkle Stan to take them to the diner, and Mabel was pretty sure it would work. "Grunkle Stan," Dipper greeted.
"Can we go to the diner?" she asked straightforwardly. "We're huuuuuungry." She grabbed her belly and wiggled it around.
"Huuuuuuungry," Dipper mimicked, doing the same thing. They both started moaning and groaning and smacking their bellies into each other, and Stan watched them, looking a little amused.
"Yeah, sure. Soon as this yahoo makes up his mind."
All three of them looked at Tyler Cutebiker, who pointed to the fur trout and asked, "Do you have this in another animal?" Mabel looked back at her grunkle unhappily.
"I'm fine locking him inside if you are," he deadpanned, and they both nodded with little smiles. Before long, they were outside and shoving a plank of wood through the door handle and locking him inside.
There was a little commotion inside, and for a second, she thought he was trying to escape, but the window opened and Antonio came running, looking a little ruffled but with a grin on his face. "I haven't had breakfast yet," he explained. "I'll pay for my own food, too."
"Alright, you're in," Stan said, climbing into the driver's seat.
Antonio climbed into the passenger side, and Mabel leaned forward and asked him, "Did he even notice?"
The teen shook his head with a grin. "Not at all."
The four of them walked inside, past McGucket drinking way too much cocoa, and Manly Dan eating a massive chicken leg and grunting, and the cops measuring how fast Sherriff Blubs could eat a massive stack of pancakes. They sat in a booth, and Mabel stuck a spoon on her nose as the boys looked at the food options.
"Lazy Susan! There's my little ray of sunshine!" Grunkle Stan said with a smile. "Where were you yesterday?" He waggled his eyebrows, and Mabel watched in interest. Hmm . . .
"I got hit by a bus!" she replied.
Stan laughed. "Hilarious!"
"Thank you." She laughed, too, albeit rather awkwardly.
"You do split plates, right?"
"Maybe." She manually moved her faulty eyelid. "Wink."
"Great! The three of us will all split one-fourth of the number seven, plus a free salad dressing for the lady and a small plate of ketchup for the boy." He tipped his fez to her, and Mabel pouted. Pancakes!
Antonio cleared his throat. "And, uh, I'll take a number three, thanks." Lazy Susan nodded and went to go make their food.
"But Grunkle Stan, I want pancakes," she informed him, pulling on his sleeve.
"With the fancy flour they use these days? Huh! What am I, made of money?" He threw up his arms in exasperation, and a dollar bill slipped out his sleeve. "Tap tap."
She groaned, and Antonio said, "Well, I got waffles. I can give you a little, if you really want it." She brightened up immediately and nodded excitedly.
Meanwhile, Dipper cracked his knuckles and said, "No need. Pancakes are on me. I'm gonna win some by beating that manliness tester."
"Manliness tester?" Stan deadpanned.
"Beating?" Mabel asked dubiously. Then they both burst into hysterical laughter. Oh, well, she wasn't getting her pancakes, but maybe it would be fun to watch him fail.
"What? What's so funny?" Dipper asked, oblivious.
Antonio hummed doubtfully. "Not everybody's gonna fit the cliche manliness mold. That's the big buff idiot. You're . . . the skinny smart guy." He shrugged and went back to poking himself with the tines of his fork.
"Yeah, you're not exactly Manly Mannington," Mabel said, trying to hold back laughter and just giving up at the end.
"Hey! I am too manly . . . Manny, or whatever it is you said," Dipper protested.
"Look, face the music, kid," Stan told him. "You got no muscles, you smell like baby wipes, and let's not forget last Tuesday's . . . incident."
Her mind jumped back to what Grunkle Stan had told her, and she mentally snickered. "You were listening to girly Icelandic pop sensation BABBA?" she asked with a grin.
He laughed weakly. "No, I wasn't. It's not important! Look, come on, guys, I'm plenty masculine! You see this chest hair?" He pulled down his shirt, and Mabel and Stan recoiled at the shininess. Antonio just averted his eyes. Dipper looked down at his smooth chest and uncomfortably said, "Oh, man." They laughed again.
"Fine, family of little faith. Get ready to eat your words . . . and a plate of delicious pancakes." He scooted off the bench, and Mabel turned around to watch him.
He took a while to prepare, and Stan had to shout at him "Quit stallin'!" before he finally started with it. The lights slowly blinked upwards, all the way to man, before he released and got a mere wimp. A piece of pink paper came out and he looked at it, clearly embarrassed.
"Oh, what?! This thing must be broken," he insisted. "It's totally broken, guys. It's like a million years old. Probably ran out of steam power, or . . ." Just to prove him wrong, Wendy's dad, Manly Dan, showed up. "It's rickety, man. You shouldn't even . . ." The big guy pushed forward with one pinky, and the machine exploded.
The plate of pancakes went flying, and everybody got one. Everyone was cheering for him (even Mabel . . . she had wanted pancakes, after all) and they laughed at Dipper one last time. She did notice that Antonio looked kind of annoyed, so she awkwardly stopped.
Dipper ran out of the room, tripping on a beaver on his way out, and Antonio sighed. "I'm gonna go make sure that kid doesn't die," he said, somewhat reluctantly, sliding out. He pointed at Mabel. "You can have my waffles." She squealed.
"Sheesh. How am I related to that?" Stan asked.
"Come on, Grunkle Stan. I'm sure deep down you have a soft side too."
He snorted. "Ha! Nothing in here but a cold, dark, empty soul." Lazy Susan showed up and shoved two plates of food on the table, and Mabel grabbed for the waffles which were now hers.
"Food!"
"Thanks there, sugar pot," Stan said, the words looking like they slipped right out of his mouth. "I-I mean, honey wasp kitten baby. Ba-baby cow . . ." He was sweating so much. What was going on?
"Ha ha! Silly!" Lazy Susan said with a smile, and she walked away, murmuring, "Silly man."
As soon as she was gone, Mabel asked, "What was that about?"
"Nothing. I, uh, don't want to talk about it. Talk about what? Why is this table wet?"
She started to put the pieces together. "Wait just a second. I think I have an idea happening here. You . . ."
"No!"
". . . and her . . ."
"Stop it!"
She shrieked, and Stan muttered, "Oh, boy." He got in a pose that made her think he might be regretting his life choices.
She shook his sleeve back and forth excitedly. "You have a thing for Lazy Susan! You do have a soft side!"
"But k-k-keep it down, will ya?" he asked, shushing her. "Alright, I admit it, okay? It would be nice if she liked me. But I've been out of the game for so long I wouldn't know where to start. I mean, look at her. She's so classy." She was smacking the spin-y twirl-y thing with the yummies on it.
She grabbed his face and looked him deep in the eyes. "Grunkle Stan, you are a cranky, gross, weird old man. But we will get Lazy Susan to like you, because nothing is stronger than the power of . . ."
"Love?" he guessed.
"Mabel," she corrected. "To victory!" She drank her salad dressing.
"Not manly enough," Dipper muttered, walking down the road. "Stupid diner! Stupid lumberjack!" A spray of water caught him in the face, and he spluttered and turned towards whatever it was.
The cops were standing in front of a broken fire hydrant that was spraying water everywhere. "Another hydrant destroyed," Sherriff Blubs commented. "It's a gosh-dang mystery!"
"Wanna take off our uniforms and run around in circles?" Deputy Durland asked.
Blubs already had his shirt off. Wow, he had a lot of chest hair. "Quit readin' my mind." They ran around, and he averted his eyes, disgusted. That was something he'd never wanted to see. He backed up away from it, into some woman.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I was looking for the mailman," she said now.
"Oh. What? Are you saying I'm not a male man? Is that what you're trying to say? I'm not male? I'm not a man? Is that what you're getting at?" He wasn't sure why he was taking offense at that, but his emotions were running a little haywire.
Clearly. "Are you crying?" she asked, concerned, and he whimpered, running down an alleyway and into the woods, embarrassed. Why was he like this? Why couldn't he do any of this stuff right?
About fifteen minutes later, he'd found a nice clearing and a nice branch that he was having difficulty bench-pressing. "Two . . . three . . . ugh . . . four . . ." He dropped it to his chest and panted, checking under his shirt. "No chest hair yet." He flopped back down on the ground and stared up at the sky. "Is it physical? Is it mental? What's the secret?"
A voice snorted. "Time, and hormones." He whirled around to see a familiar Latino boy leaning against a tree. "It's not as good as it sounds, buddy, trust me." He sat down next to him on the ground. "Bench-pressing a stick isn't gonna spontaneously generate chest hair. It's like regular hair. It grows when it wants to."
"Oh." He looked at the ground. "It still doesn't feel great."
"Yeah, I know." There was a pause, and Dipper looked at him expectantly. "Oh, are you expecting me to share a story or something about how I got teased? Well, I don't have much, since I don't really like talking to people, but . . . there was this one guy, and he would just not shut up about how much of a loser I was because of it. He's still a friend, but . . ." He sighed. "I don't know."
He held his head. "I still need help."
There was a sudden rumbling, and both boys' heads shot up. Animals screeched, birds squawked, something roared loudly. They all ran past, and Dipper covered his head. Manly Dan was there, too, and he shouted, "For the love of all that's holy, run!" Neither boy needed another reminder. Dipper ran, grabbing his hat off a stump and barely dodging out of the way of a falling tree.
He hid behind a fallen trunk, and after a moment, Antonio cruised over the top action-hero style (Dipper felt a pang of jealousy) and they both peeked over the top to look at what had caused the chaos. A large, monstrous shadow fell over him, and he screamed. It was really high-pitched, though, so he tried again, deeper, but he only ended up coughing.
It was a buff minotaur, covered in hair and with the man symbol tattooed on its shoulder. It roared again, though it changed into a yawn, and it pulled a deer out of a bush to scratch its back before it threw it away. It turned towards them, and they belatedly ducked down, but it just smacked it off to the side.
"Please don't eat me! I haven't showered in like a week! And I'm . . . I'm, like, all elbows! Elbows and gristle!" he insisted, scooching backwards and bumping against a rock.
Antonio stared the thing down, barely looking fazed. "I have connections," he said simply, and the thing turned away from him, staring Dipper down. He shrieked.
"YOU!" it boomed, pointing at him. He shrieked again. "Gonna finish that?"
A little confused, he pulled out the jerky in his pocket. "No." He tossed it onto the ground, and the minotaur started munching on it. "I can't believe it. Part animal, part human," he murmured. "Are you some kind of minotaur?" he asked.
"I'm a manotaur!" it said. "Half man, half, uh . . . half taur!" It punched the ground, and both boys jumped a little. Antonio was just staring at it, looking a little confused.
"So, did I, like, summon you, or . . ."
"The smell of jerky summoned me! Jerky!" It punched a tree this time, and then smashed a rock on its head, then roaring. Dipper didn't miss Antonio sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose. The manotaur laughed. "Huh." It sniffed Dipper. "I smell . . . emotional issues."
He put his hat back on, as it had been knocked off by the force of the sniffing. "I got problems, manotaur. Man-related problems."
Antonio scoffed. "Yeah, right. It's just the same stuff literally everybody goes through."
Both Dipper and the manotaur ignored him, the monster plopping down and smacking its leg for him to lean on. "Well, my own uncle called me a wimp . . . and I kinda flunked this manliness video game thing . . . Hey! You know, you seem pretty manly. Maybe you could give me some pointers?"
"Don't do it, kid," Antonio warned from the background. "This isn't gonna end well . . ."
"Very well," the manotaur said, standing up. "Climb atop my back hair, child."
"Uh, okay." He tried to ignore the buzzing flies and horrible smell.
Antonio had gotten to his feet and was now spinning around to head away. "Well, I'm out," he said, but the manotaur grabbed the back of his shirt and held him anyway. "Aw, what?!"
They went through a rather chaotic ride upon the manotaur, jumping through trees and getting smacked by half a billion branches. They jumped over a ravine and through a stone wall, into a cave filled with manotaurs, doing various manly activities.
"This place is amazing!" he commented.
"Amazingly stereotypical," Antonio muttered, his arms crossed.
"The gnomes live in the trees, the mer-people live in the water . . . 'cause they're losers! But we manotaurs crash in the Man Cave!" It hit a gong with a bone, and all the fights and stuff stopped. "Beasts! I have brought you . . . two hairless children!"
"Huh?" the entire cave said at once.
The manotaur they'd encountered started introducing them to the rest. "This is, uh, Pubitaur, Testosteraur, Pituitaur, and I'm Chutzpar. And you are . . ."
"My name's Dipper," he said. The manotaurs all booed about how weak that was. "The, uh, Destructor?" And they all nodded.
"Antonio," Antonio said, his arms staying folded. When they started to boo at that, he glared at them harsh enough that even they shut up. Dipper started to have second thoughts. If Antonio could outman the manotaurs, then maybe he should get man lessons from him.
The gong banged again, and he winced at how loud the sound was. "Dipper the Destructor and Antonio want us to teach them the secrets to our manliness!"
"Nope, just him," Antonio deadpanned. "I'm not wrapped up in this."
"I need your help. Look at this, guys . . . look at this!" He pulled down his shirt, with a bare chest, and they all wore solemn expressions.
"I must confer with the high council," one of them said, and they all huddled up. "So, teach 'em our man secrets, or what?"
"They're human. I don't like them."
"I don't like your face!"
The huddle devolved into a fight. Dipper smiled at it. "I like these guys." Antonio just looked concerned.
Grunkle Stan was shuffling a deck of cards when Mabel walked up. "Okay, Grunkle Stan. Welcome to the first day of whatever is left of your life! First, a 'before' picture." She took a picture, and he screamed. "I never miss a scrapbook-ortunity." She opened it up, and she stuck it on a fresh page. "Bleet! Let's start out with some role-playing. Soos will play Lazy Susan."
She gestured to Soos and Wendy. The former was wearing a pink dress, apron, and had one eyelid closed, with all the proper makeup. "I'm soft like a woman," he said knowledgeably.
"Grunkle Stan, show me how you approach a woman." He nervously walked up. "Remember this is a safe, non-judgemental environment. I'll just be right off on the side judging you on a scale from one to ten."
She saw nothing wrong with that logic.
Stan walked up to Soos, and it looked fine, at least until he spat off to the side and asked, "Can I borrow some money?" She blew her whistle immediately.
"This is gonna be harder than I thought," she murmured.
"After a lot of punching, we have decided to deny your request to learn our manly secrets."
"Denied!" The manotaur punched itself in its face.
"Denied?" Dipper echoed sadly. He looked down dejectedly.
"Oh, no, what a shame," Antonio said pointedly. "I guess we have to leave now. How sad. Good bye." He turned around to leave.
But Dipper got a devious idea. "Okay, fine. That's okay with me. Obviously you guys think it would be too hard to train me. Maybe . . . you're not man enough to try." The manotaurs gasped in fury, and Antonio shot him a warning look he ignored.
"Destructor . . ." Chutzpar warned, but he went on with it anyway. "He didn't mean it," the manotaur nervously told the others.
"I have three Y chromosomes, six Adam's apples, pecs on my abs, and fists for nipples!" a particularly enraged one told him, showing him the aforementioned fists on its nipples.
"Seems to me you're scared to teach me how to be a man," he said offhandedly. "Hey, do you guys hear that? It sounds like . . ." He clucked like a chicken. "Oh, that's weird." More clucking. "Is that . . . that sounds like . . . Yeah, a bunch of chickens!" He pointed at them accusingly.
The manotaurs all gasped and huddled up again, though this time it didn't lead to a fight. "After a second round of deliberation, we have decided to help you become a man!"
"Man! Man! Man! Man!" the others chanted.
He grinned. "Great! Thanks, guys. Whatever it is, I will not let you down."
They started to make their way out of the cave, and Antonio muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Dipper to hear, "I still don't like this, but that was good. How are you so good at manipulating people, exactly?"
They met again outside, and Chutzpar said, "Being a man is about conquering your fears."
"For your first man task, you must plunge your fist into the pain hole!"
The manotaurs all winced at once. "The what?" Dipper asked, suddenly doubting his decision.
One of the braver ones went forward and shoved his fist in the hole. He wore a confident look. "Pain hole, schmain ho—AHHHH!" Then he was screaming and sweating and punching himself to deal with the pain. He ran away clutching his fist.
From next to him, Antonio took a deep breath and walked over to the hole. He looked so confident, though a tiny part of Dipper recognized that he was pretending. The teen sat on the ground and stuck his fist in, with a relaxed smile. The pain clearly kicked in, from a heavy wince that he was trying hard to hide, and the way he was gritting his teeth, but he still kept on smiling.
The manotaurs all gasped, and they let him pull his hand out. Antonio walked next to Dipper again, and he whispered, "Smiling does actually help you deal with pain."
So, he tried to take his advice.
A very high-pitched shriek still scared birds away from the tops of trees.
"All right. Let's try to get that inner beauty on the outside," Mabel said. "Smile harder." Grunkle Stan grunted, clearly having a lot of difficulty. "Harder!" He grunted louder, and it lengthened just enough. "Perfect. Soos!" she called.
"What's up, hambone?" the handyman asked, walking up.
"What do you think?"
She gestured to Stan, but the second Soos saw his face he screamed, through his sandwich on the ceiling, and ran out the door. She sighed heavily. "This is going to take some really great training music." She held up her training mix disc and popped it in.
So, to the disco music, she got to work.
Dipper relaxed in the hot spring with the manotaurs. Not Antonio, though. He was sitting with his back against a rock on the other side of the cave, muttering to himself. He was kind of jealous of the teen. He didn't want to participate in the activities, but he still did, and he was way better when not even trying than Dipper trying his hardest.
"Who wants to rub this on my back?" one of the manotaurs asked.
"Guys, I just want to say that these last few hours have been . . . I-I feel like there's really been some growth," he said.
One of the manotaurs pointed to a rather painful-looking lump on its forehead. "I have a growth!"
"Glark, you are hilarious today!" He sighed happily. "It's just, you guys took me—us—under your wing and have just been so supportive."
"Oh, stop," Chutzpar said, though he was smiling.
"No, you know what? You really have been," he insisted. "I feel like I'm finally becoming a man here." He puffed up his chest with a grin, feeling heroic and powerful for the first time . . . ever.
Chutzpar raised a hand for him to stop. "Not yet, Destructor. One final task remains. The deadliest trial of all."
"I've survived forty-nine other trials," he said determinedly. "Whatever it is, bring it on!" The manotaurs all cheered at that.
They were brought into a cave. He wore a loin cloth, and got the tattoos, and everything, though Antonio, of course, refused to do anything. So Dipper felt more ridiculous standing next to him, with RAD DUDE and TOO COOL on his arms.\
"Behold our leader . . . Leaderaur!" Chutzpar said, and the buff guys parted for a small old dude, who was humming.
"Is he, like, the oldest, or wisest, or . . ." Suddenly, the old manotaur got chomped up, and Dipper stared in horror, watching him get eaten alive. He shuddered.
"Nah, he's just the offering. That's Leaderaur." Chutzpar pointed up at the massive manotaur.
Antonio hummed, seeming unfazed by the brutal death. "Yeah, I was pretty much expecting that."
"You! You wish to be man?" Leaderaur boomed.
Dipper growled in affirmation, and smacked his chest. Antonio just shrugged and said, "I guess."
"Then you must do heroic act. Go to highest mountain . . ." It reached in its chest, and Dipper recoiled in disgust. A bony, slimy spear came out. "And bring back head of . . . the multi-bear."
He tossed it at their feet, and Dipper looked at it. "The multi-bear? That some sort of bear?"
"He's our sworn enemy. Conquer him and your mansformation will be complete."
"Conquer? I don't know, man," he said, uncertain.
"Nope. I'm outta here," Antonio said, turning away for the third time that day. He got blocked by the manotaurs, though, and he growled in frustration. He glared at them, and they slowly parted, but Dipper watched in horror. He couldn't do this without Antonio!
"Antonio!" he called, and the teen turned back around. "Please . . . please don't go." He knew that probably sounded weak, but it was all he could think of to say.
The teen groaned in annoyance, but he walked back, muttering to himself. And as soon as he was back, Dipper picked up the spear. "We shall conquer the multi-bear!" he declared.
"Nope, just you," Antonio said.
"I shall conquer the multi-bear!" The manotaurs all cheered, and Leaderaur blew fire out of its nostrils. A couple sparks fell on his shoulder, and he yelped. "Aah! Aah! I'm okay."
They ran through the forest, though Antonio was having a much better time than he was, due to better retention of body heat and whatnot. And shoes. His feet really hurt from running without shoes. He climbed a tree to see the way better while Antonio just sat at the bottom and tapped his foot.
He drank river water, which the teen refused to do, because of amoebas and whatnot. And, after climbing up to the cave in a brewing storm, they were there.
"I'm comin' for you, Multi-Bear," he whispered in a deep voice, and Antonio gave him a weird look.
"Okay, Grunkle Stan. You started like this, but you became . . ." She looked at the picture she'd taken, and then she moved it down to compare. There was no improvement, and in fact he was a lot worse, all sweaty and crumped, with a Q-tip sticking out of his ear.
"Can I scratch myself now?" he asked.
"No! No, no, no!" she shouted. "Is that throw-up on your shirt?"
He looked down at himself, and so did the fly buzzing around his head. "I don't know how to answer that."
She groaned and ripped the picture, throwing her head back to stare at the ceiling. "Face it, Mabel, your uncle's unfixable," Wendy said in an attempt to console her. "Like that spinning pie trolley thing in the diner."
The lightbulb went off in her brain, and she was back to smiling. "Grunkle Stan, come with me! And leave your pants at home."
"With pleasure!"
They walked into the dark cave, and Antonio pulled out a flashlight and clicked it on. Dipper looked at him, a little annoyed, and the teen shrugged. "What? I'm not gonna try to light a fire and this damp darkness."
There were bones littering the floor, and he picked one up, peering at it. "What is a multi-bear?" he asked, and there was a growling from deeper in the cave. Antonio shone the light on it, revealing a bear with far too many heads. It growled.
"That," he said helpfully.
There was one up on the top, that looked smarter than the others. "Bear heads . . . silence!" He smacked one on the snout, and at whimpered. "Children, why have you come here?"
"Multi-bear, I seek your head!" Then he amended his statement. "Er, one of them, anyway. There's like, what, six? Six heads?"
"This is foolish! Leave now or die!"
Antonio shrugged, spinning around again. At this point, Dipper was pretty sure he just did it for emphasis about how he didn't want to be there, since he never actually left. Still, Dipper brandished the spear and entered close combat. He ended up choking the top head and standing on top of the bear. "A real man shows no mercy!" he shouted.
The multi-bear sighed. "Very well, warrior. But will you grant a magical beast one last request?"
"Uh, okay," he said, a little confused.
"I wish to die listening to my favorite song," it said, looking at the boom box. Antonio was standing near it anyway, so a gesture from Dipper had him press the button. A very familiar disco song started playing, and he gaped, looking down at multi-bear.
"You listen to Icelandic pop group BABBA?" he asked, in shock. "I-I love BABBA."
"I thought I was the only one. All the manotaurs make fun of me because I know all the words to the song Disco Girl."
"Oh, you mean . . ." He started singing along, rather off-key, but he didn't care. "Disco girl . . ."
"Coming through . . ." the multi-bear sang.
"That girl is you!" they both sang, and he was surprised to find another voice in the mix. He looked at Antonio, and, sure enough, he was singing too. "Ooh ooh, ooh ooh!"
Dipper laughed. "This is crazy! Finally, someone who . . . who understands that . . . oh, yeah. I guess I'm supposed to kill you or I'll never be a man."
"I accept my fate."
"No, really?"
"It's for the best."
Antonio scoffed loudly, and both Dipper and the multi-bear turned to look at him as he walked forward. "Dipper, I told you right there at the start, in the diner. Not everybody's gonna fit the cliche manliness model, and that's okay. Not everybody's the same. Your manliness is just as good as theirs." He smirked playfully. "I'd actually say it's better."
He gaped. "What?"
"Yeah. They only ever hurt people and themselves, but you solve problems and think for yourself. That's pretty cool, if you think about it."
He paused. That . . . it felt good, to hear someone say that. "But . . . being a man is about being strong. And—and I'm not." He looked at the floor, and he couldn't help but think, It's easy for you to say that. You're kind of like a superhero.
Antonio must've heard the unspoken words, because he sighed and crouched down a tiny bit to look him in the eye. "My strong is different from your strong, and that's different from the multi-bear's strong, and the manotaurs' strong, and anybody's strong. You're strong in your own way, and it might not be the same as a lot of people's, but it's . . . still strong."
And then, added on in a voice low enough that he probably thought he couldn't hear it, "And other people have weaknesses too."
Dipper glanced at the multi-bear, and determination filled him. He knew what he was going to do.
He threw down the spear in front of Leaderaur. "I'm not gonna do it!" he declared.
"You were told the price of manhood is the multi-bear's head!"
"Listen, Leaderaur, all right? You too, Testosteraur, Pituitaur, and I don't know, whatever your name is. Beardy?"
"It's Beardy," the manotaur confirmed.
"You keep telling me that being a man means doing all these tasks and being aggro all the time, but I'm starting to think that stuff's malarkey." He could practically feel Antonio's proud grin. "You heard me. Malarkey! So maybe I don't have muscles, or hair in certain places, and sure, when a girly pop song comes on the radio, sometimes I leave it on, 'cause dang it, Top 40 hits are in the top 40 for a reason, they're catchy!"
"Destructor! What are you saying?" Chutzpar asked.
He turned to look at the manotaur. "I'm saying the multi-bear is a really nice guy. And you're a bunch of jerks if you want me to cut off his head!"
Leaderaur roared and smacked the spear off to the side. "Kill the multi-bear, or never be a man!" it boomed.
"Then I guess I'll never be a man."
The manotaurs all booed, and he felt bad for a moment, at least until he heard Antonio cheer and jump into the air. He had a massive smile on his face, and they high-fived.
"Hey, guys! Who wants to go build something and knock it down?" Chutzpar asked. All the manotaurs left the cave, roaring and chanting.
"If it makes you feel any better, I think that was epic," Antonio informed him, and Dipper had on a matching smile.
Mabel led Grunkle Stan into the diner, where Lazy Susan was trying to fix the pie trolley thing. "Lazy Susan, listen," she said. "I know he's not much to look at, but you're always fixing stuff in the diner, and if you like fixing stuff, nothing could use more fixing than my Grunkle Stan."
And, just in case that didn't work, she added, "Also, women live longer than men, so your dating pool is smaller and you should really lower your standards."
Stan walked up. "So, Lazy Susan . . ." He chuckled nervously. "Whaddya say?" She looked him up and down, and turned around. His face fell, and so did Mabel's. They started to walk away, but she called out.
"Hey! Here's my number." She gave him a slip of paper with it on it. "Why don't you give me a call sometime?"
"Really?" he breathed.
"Really!" she laughed. "Also, here's some pie. On the house . . . for you!" She set it on the table.
Mabel squealed. "We did it! When are you gonna call? You wanna call now? I don't have a phone. Let's buy a phone! We can put it on a credit card! Let's get a credit card."
He interrupted, "Mabel! Let a man enjoy his pie, huh?"
She glanced out the window, only to find a rather beat-up looking Dipper and Antonio. She vaguely wondered where they'd been before climbing on the table and pounding on the glass. "Dipper! Antonio! It's me, Mabel! I'm looking at you through the glass! Right here! This is my voice! I'm talking to you from inside!"
Dipper nodded, looking confused, and Antonio laughed, grinning. They came inside after a moment, and she asked, "Did you see me through the . . ."
"Yes," her twin said, rolling his eyes.
She noticed something different about him, though. "Wait a minute! Do my eyes deceive me?" She crawled over the table, and she was excited enough that she didn't even think about the fact that Antonio was there. "You have a chest hair!"
He pulled his shirt down and gasped. "You're right! I do!" He laughed. "This is amazing, I really do! Take that, man tester! Take that, Pituitaur!"
"Pituitaur?" Stan asked, clearly confused.
"This guy has chest hair!"
Mabel pulled it out with tweezers and stuck it on a new page. "Scrapbook-ortunity!"
He looked at his chest, looking so disappointed that he might cry. She suddenly felt kind of bad for taking it. "Don't worry, kid," Stan said with a grin. "If you're anything like me, there's more where that came from." He ripped open his shirt, and she looked away, never wanting to see his chest hair again. She shuddered.
"Ohh, gross!" Dipper laughed. Antonio gagged. And soon they were all laughing, though he had to say it. "Seriously, that's disgusting."