Once again, Camo was at work, watching TV. It was ridiculous how little she had to do to get paid. This time, they were watching Tiger Fist, which was a show she secretly thought was super dumb, but whatever. Ducktective wasn't on, so this was the next best thing. Everyone else enjoyed the show, though she didn't understand why Dipper thought the tiger was a hero—after all, as far as she knew, all that it had done was get hurt and repaired, neither of which were very heroic or by its own hand, er, paw? The only thing the big cat ever did was accidently punch itself in the face. Whatever. It's a dumb kid show.
It went to commercials, and she sighed. She couldn't be in her upside-down position on the chair this time, because Soos was there and he took up half the space, and Mabel was sitting on the armrest, so she was sprawled out on the floor, next to the chair. "Hey, look, it's that commercial I was telling you guys about," Soos said, and she looked at the pastel blue and doves.
"Are you completely miserable?" the narrator said. Oh, great. She already didn't like this. There was some sobbing man in this ad who apparently was miserable, because the ad continued: "Then you need to meet . . . Gideon."
"Gideon?" Dipper asked.
"What makes him so special?" Mabel questioned.
"He's a psychic," the ad replied, almost as if it could hear them. "So, don't waste your time with other so-called men of mystery." They showed a rather unflattering video of Stan, stamped with the word 'fraud'. She frowned. Wasn't it against the rules to name competing brands? She was pretty sure that was why in ads it always said 'five times faster than the leading brand' or something like that. "Learn about tomorrow tonight at Gideon's Tent of Telepathy!"
"Wow! I'm gettin' all curious-y inside!" Mabel squealed.
"Well, don't get too curious-y!" Stan came into the room just then, a dark expression on his face. "Ever since that monster Gideon rolled into town, I've had nothing but trouble!"
And I've had nothing but trouble taking care of your charges, so deal with it.
"Well, is he really psychic?" Mabel asked, excited.
"I think we should go and find out," Dipper suggested.
"I think Stan will dock my pay if I go," Camo said dubiously, eyeing the old man.
"Oh, I definitely will! You are forbidden from patronizing the competition! No one that lives under my roof is allowed under that Gideon's roof!"
"Do tents have roofs?" Dipper asked, and she was pretty sure Stan was going to explode and his head was going to fly off, and then he'd be headless, just like Wax Stan. And they wouldn't be able to fix him by fighting a couple wax statues to the death.
Camo grinned slyly, proud of the preteen for figuring out a loophole. That was usually up to her! "Nope, they sure don't! And plus, I don't live here! Ha ha!" She ran out the door, right past her furious boss, and only somewhat cared when he shouted after her,
"I CAN STILL DOCK YOUR PAY!"
The Tent of Telepathy was a strange place to be. Everything was light blue, a tint of it that she wasn't overly fond of (green was far superior), and they even had a sack which people put their money into, just like the Shack had. Dipper was right in saying "this is like a bizarro version of the Mystery Shack." They even had their own Soos, who their green-shirted companion narrowed his eyes at.
"It's starting! It's starting!" Mabel squealed, and Camo leaned back in her seat, expecting disappointment.
"Let's see what this monster looks like." Dipper folded his arms.
Just how much of a fraud is this guy?
A massive shadow appeared on the curtain, which squeakily parted to reveal Gideon. He wore a pastel blue suit, a cape, and his hair was white and gelled up on the top of his head. However, this was not the most intriguing part about the 'monster'. Stan's mortal enemy was, in fact, a little kid, maybe ten years old. What a pair they must be, an old man and a little kid vying for attention against each other. But when he spoke, she winced slightly at his country accent. European ones sounded so much better. "Hello, America! My name is lil' Gideon!" He clapped his hands and doves flew out of his hair. "Ladies and gentleman, it is such a gift to have you here tonight! Such a gift! I have a vision. I predict you'll soon all say, 'aw!'" He made an awful cutesy face, and sure enough, the crowd fell for it.
The twins were muttering amongst themselves, but she was too caught up in her own thoughts. It didn't count as a prophecy if you were planning it and you intentionally made it come true, though she suspected he knew that. He then started a song and dance number where he read people's fates or whatever. "Oh, I can see what others can't see. It ain't some sideshow trick, it's innate ability. Where others are blind, I am future-ly inclined. And you too could see if you was widdle ol' me!" Oh, dear. She hated every second of this. When he called for them to rise, she didn't intend to, but she found herself on her feet anyway.
He then proceeded to 'see the future' or 'read minds' or whatever. "You wish your son would call you more" to a crazy old woman with a cat. "I sense that you've been here before" to Sherriff Blubs, who was covered in Gideon merch. Ick, light blue was not his color. "I'll read your mind, if I'm able. Something tells me you're named Mabel" to Mabel, who was wearing a sweater that proudly declared her name. And then, he did her. "I bet under your power you're just a pretty little flower." She paled slightly. Did he know her name, somehow? She knew for a fact she hadn't told it to anybody, and she didn't boast it on her clothing because, come on. Chamomile was such a dumb name.
"So welcome all ye to the Tent of Telepathy. And thanks for visiting . . . widdle ol' me!" Blue fire and a massive sign saying his name came onto the stage, and she rolled her eyes, trying to appear nonchalant. How did he know her name? It didn't matter, she was getting out of there as quick as possible.
"Thank you! You people are the real miracles!"
Camo was staying at the Shack. She'd heard from Dipper that Mabel had gone out with Gideon, for some reason, so they were still there. Who knew where Stan was, so while Dipper got to lounge on the couch, she was running the tours. Not that there were many to do, of course—Gideon had stolen most of their crowd—but still. Without Stan, it was all up to her.
"Wendy, actually do something, would you?" she grouched. The redhead gave her a look.
"What is there to do? There's literally nobody here."
She just sighed and massaged her temples. Scuff, now she understood why Stan was the way he was. She was leaning against the wall and restocking some things in the gift shop when the gift shop door opened. In came Mabel, covered in badly applied makeup, followed by Gideon. Her eyes widened upon seeing him, but she tried to maintain indifference. "Mabel, you know Stan doesn't like it when you enter through the gift shop door. It gives tourists the idea that they can bypass the tour, too." She pretended to only just notice the little boy behind her. "What're you doing here?"
"Oh, I'm just taking Mabel back home, don't mind me," he replied, which she found . . . suspicious, to say the least. "In fact, Mabel, why don't you head in there? I wanna speak with your friend here."
"Oh, Camo? Yeah, she's great! Bye! See ya tomorrow!" The preteen girl ran through the door to look for her brother, who Camo assumed was reading his Journal in the other room. She turned to Gideon with a slight bit of apprehension.
"Why, hello! I don't believe we've formally met!"
"No, I . . . I don't think we have. How about we go outside, for a walk?" She didn't like the idea of this kid knowing her name, and if he did know it, then she didn't trust him not to use it in front of Wendy, who she knew would mock her over it. She led the way, pushing open the gift shop door and letting the little boy through.
"Why, thank you! What was your name again? Chamomile, am I right?"
Her blood ran cold. So, he did. How did he know her name?
"That's a fine name," he continued on, not caring about her silence. "Precious. Truly precious."
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. "What do you want? If you know my name, then you also know I prefer to go by Camo."
"Oh, nothin' much. I just couldn't help but wonder about you. I'm not much fond of Stan, but I wanted to know how your tours go."
"Hmm." She thought it over. "Stan doesn't like you, either, so if I'm going to run a tour just for you, it'll have to be at double the price. Otherwise, he might fire me."
"Splendid."
So, she awkwardly gave a tour, and it wasn't nearly as good as her usual ones, because her nerves were shot the entire time. How did he know her name? Was he a genuine psychic? Maybe he'd gotten his hands on some supernatural nonsense. Did he know she didn't belong there? What all did he know, and how did he get his hands on that information?
She was being paranoid, almost as bad as Dipper. He was ten years old, nothing he did could hurt her that bad. And what could knowing her name really do to her? Nothing. Absolutely nothing, except maybe a little embarrassment. She wrapped up the tour and hoped the little kid hadn't seen the cold sweat on her brow. "Marvelous!" he praised, but the manner in which he spoke made her feel on edge. "Well, I'd best be goin', but I got a feelin' this won't be the last you'll see of me!" He said this cheerfully, but she caught the underlying threat.
She didn't like that kid, not one bit.
Camo was back in the gift shop, bored out of her mind. She'd brought a pad of paper and was sketching dragons, laying on the floor, when Stan barged in, looking mad about something. He was holding up a newspaper article which, upon closer inspection, revealed Mabel, holding hands with Gideon and turning her face away from the flash of the cameras. Lil Gideon's Li'l Girlfriend? read the headline. "Hey! Hey! What the Jekyll is Mabel doing in the paper next to that greasy pickpocket Gideon?" He held it up, closer, so that they all could see it.
"Oh, yeah, it's like a big deal," Wendy said, speaking without really thinking of the effects her words could have on Stan, Camo could tell. "Everybody's talking about Gideon and Mabel's big date tonight."
Needless to say, Stan didn't react great to that news. "What?! That little shyster is dating my great-niece?!"
"Ew," Camo interjected, making a face. "He showed up at the Shack earlier and made me give him a tour. He's a creep."
"You gave him a tour?!"
"At triple price, telling him it was only double."
"Oh. That's a little better," Stan grumbled.
Soos mindlessly asked, "I wonder what the new name will be for the power couple. Mab-ideon? Gide-abel?" He gasped. "Ma-gid-bel-eon!"
Camo winced. "Soos, never name anything. Please."
Stan furiously threw the paper down on the ground and stormed off. Dipper fruitlessly shouted, "I didn't know! I didn't hear about it! And plus, I told her not to!" Camo gave him a weird look (he just contradicted himself? why did he think that was smart?) and got up, grabbing her pad of paper and following her boss. Maybe seeing her drawings of dragons in gladiatorial fighting would cheer him up. Before she could get very far, however, Stan walked back into the gift shop, now fully dressed and ready for blood, from the looks of things.
"Yeah, well, it ends tonight!" he said furiously. "I'm going right down to that little skunk's house! This is going to stop right now!"
"And I'm coming with you, because Gideon's a creep and I don't want him near Mabel," she said stubbornly. Stan must've known that she wasn't giving in, or maybe he even supported it, because he didn't stop her when she walked through the door before he slammed it shut.
However, she very quickly regretted her decision when Stan got in the driver's seat. She had a horrible flashback to the day at the lake, and them driving off the road, and Stan swerving and braking far too quickly. She almost decided that it wasn't worth it, but the memory of that newspaper reinforced it in her mind that it was for the greater good.
It still was terrifying, mind you.
They arrived at Gideon's house. How did she know this? It probably had something to do with the billboard saying "Home of lil Gideon; like from TV!" That made her wonder how he wasn't flooded with tourists all the time, since come on. Little kids would want to go to a celebrity's house. The house was also light blue, that same horrible tint, and completely cutesy. The mailbox was flooded, and there was a cupid statue with Gideon instead. It was absolutely horrible, and she hated every second of it.
Stan angrily marched to the door, knocked roughly, and screamed, "Gideon, you little punk! Open up!" He peered through the eyehole to look for the ten-year-old, and, apparently not finding anything, leaned back. He was about to knock again when he spotted their dumb little sign. Pardon this garden. Stan, predictably, smacked it away and said, "I will pardon nothing!"
Camo was left just standing there, blinking, feeling like an outside observer, while a man in a big hat and a pink shirt opened the door. The two men glared at each other for a second, then the man in pink's glare turned into a delighted smile and he said, "Why, Stanford Pines, what a delight!" Ugh, he had a country accent too. The man noticed her and said, "Oh, and who is this?"
"It doesn't matter, Bud! Out of the way! I'm looking for Gideon."
Bud replied, "Well, I haven't seen the boy around, but since you're here, you simply must come in for coffee!" He pulled Stan along and gestured for Camo to come as well. Apprehensively, she did.
"But-but we came—" Stan started furiously.
"It's imported all the way from Columbia!" That comment, and everything changed.
With a goofy look on his face, Stan mentioned, "Wow . . . I went to jail there once!" Bud led the two of them into the living room, which was far too purple-y for her taste. Stan whistled. "Some digs you got here."
"Meh, too much lavender," Camo muttered from where she stood near the door. Get some other colors in your pallet.
"Oh? And how would you set it up?" Bud asked.
"Eh . . . I'm just not very fond of pastels. That's all. I prefer browns, greens, more . . . subtle colors."
Stan, meanwhile, was gazing at a horrid painting of a sad clown and marveling at it.
Bud brought over two cups of coffee—none for her, though she was glad for that, coffee was disgusting—and got to the matter at hand. "Now, I hear your niece, or friend, and my Gideon are . . . Well, they're singing in harmony lately, so to speak."
Stan sat up on the couch he had flopped onto, as if remembering he hated this man with a burning passion. "Uh, yeah, and I'm against it! Neh!" He smacked one of the pillows to the ground.
Camo slid into one of the armchairs and watched Bud as he said, "No, no, no, I see it as a fantastic business opportunity!" She froze, and sank into the chair. Bud knew Stan well enough to know money was the deciding factor, apparently. Now, there was no way that he would turn it down. "Yes, the Mystery Shack and the Tent of Telepathy! We've been at each other's throats for far too . . . let me get that . . ." He pulled a picture of Stan off of a dart board. "At each other's throats for far too long! Yes, we have! This is our big chance to brush aside our rivalry and pool our collective profits, you see."
Camo cleared her throat and stared Bud down. Even though he was twice her size, she was a force to be reckoned with. "No. This is not good. Stan, are you hearing what he's saying?"
Bud looked stricken. "Why, what do you mean?"
"I mean, you're saying that a ten-year-old and a twelve-year-old need to be betrothed to each other so you can earn a couple bucks? Listen here, Bud, I know your game. You seem like the type to unfairly divvy up the money, meaning Stan gets a loss of his cut. They're too young to be dating, much less being betrothed. Stan doesn't have that kind of control. He's her great uncle, not a parent, meaning he doesn't get to decide that. The age difference alone! She's two years older than him, which at that age, is like . . . it's ridiculous! This is awful, and you are a horrible person for suggesting it!"
Or rather, that's what she would've said. However, she didn't have that much courage. She wanted to say that, she wanted to say it with all her heart, but she couldn't stand up to an adult. She was rendered helpless, and all she could do was watch in horror as the two men negotiated their deal. After several minutes of back and forth, she couldn't take it anymore. She snuck out the front door and started walking back to the Shack. It was pretty far, but Stan was talking about money, meaning he'd never get bored of it.
She got back, to where Mabel was freaking out about Gideon. Apparently, he kept tricking her into going on more dates with her, and he wouldn't listen to what she wanted. She wearily sat down in the armchair and groaned. "Sorry, guys, Stan's been corrupted."
"What, what do you mean?" Dipper asked, confused.
"I mean, Bud roped money into the deal, so now . . . ugh, he's rooting for Magidbeleon." She rubbed the bridge of her nose from under her glasses frames. Mabel shrieked and ran away to another room in horror. "You going to check up on her?"
"Yeah, I . . . probably should."
He left, following his sister, and she pulled out her sketchbook and continued drawing fighting dragons. It calmed her down somewhat.
The twins, Camo, and Soos were playing just outside the Shack the next morning. Soos put a pillow under his shirt, and they slammed into him. Camo weighed a decent amount more than the twins, and she actually made Soos stumble a little, but he kept his balance. She punched him in the pillow again, though light enough that it didn't run the risk of hurting him.
"I'm so glad everything's back to normal," Mabel said. The phone rang, and the three of them quickly claimed not to be it. Dipper lost and had to answer it.
"You know, I'm just surprised Stan hasn't yelled at you yet," Camo remarked. "You lost him a lot of money by making the ethically smart choice. Or, if my theory is correct, you saved him money, but I don't know if he knows that."
"Ha ha!" They wrestled on the ground a little, and then Dipper came back outside. "Who was it?" Mabel asked her twin.
"Toby Determined!" he said excitedly. When she looked confused, he clarified, "The guy we accused of murder last week. Anyway, he wanted to interview me about the supernatural stuff I've seen! 412 Gopher Road!" he declared.
"Oh, sweet! That's right up your alley. Good on you."
"Do you want us to come?" Mabel asked.
"Nah, I should be good on my own. You two have fun! I'm going to go now!" He ran off, and the girls looked at each other, then at Soos.
They were quiet for a moment, then Camo asked, "So . . . what do you want to do?"
"You wanna watch Dream Boy High with me?!" the preteen asked excitedly.
She made a face. "Ew, no. Literally anything but that."
They ended up playing with Soos a while longer, then Camo made some popcorn and they found an episode of Ducktective on TV. After a little while of watching, Mabel suddenly said, "Hey, Camo?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think I should have broken up with Gideon on my own? I mean, he deserves an honest break up . . ."
She swiveled around and looked at the younger girl seriously. "You want my honest opinion?" Mabel nodded. "Yes. Yeah, you should've done it yourself. He seemed a little unstable to me, and he probably won't take it great coming from Dipper. You know your brother. He can be a little blunt at times. You should do it yourself."
"Okay. I now know what I have to do. Let's do this."
They left (even though it didn't feel great to leave in the middle of an episode in a detective show), and, on their way to Gideon's house, she paused. "Um, we don't actually know where he is."
Mabel stopped as well. "I . . . guess we don't."
"And didn't Toby's request to Dipper seem a little . . . odd? Misplaced? Out of the blue?"
The younger girl's brow furrowed. "You don't think . . . ?"
She shrugged. "I think it might be worth a shot. Like I said, the kid's unstable."
"Then Dipper might be in danger! Come on!" Mabel rushed and got her bike, and since Camo didn't have one of her own, she used Dipper's. Together, they raced off, over tree roots and squirrels, maybe even a gnome. She wasn't paying a lot of attention. They dropped their bikes in front of the warehouse and Mabel squished her face up against the glass. "AH!"
Camo peeked through too and gaped. Gideon was holding Dipper in the air, with his mind, and there was also a pair of scissors snipping ever closer to the older boy. Mabel hastily threw open the doors and said, "Gideon, we have to talk!"
"Mabel! My marshmallow! What are you doing here?" he said, guiltily letting the scissors drop to the floor and glancing behind him.
"I'm sorry, Gideon, but I can't be your marshmallow. I needed to be honest and tell you that myself."
"I . . . I don't understand." The ten-year-old looked downward, upset. Dipper floated behind him, clearly rather confused, and then gasped in pain when Gideon tightened the pressure.
"Gideon! Stop! You're hurting him!" Camo said, looking with concern at the boy floating in the air.
"Oh, my . . . apologies, Chamomile," the little boy replied, and her face immediately darkened. Both twins looked at her in shock, and she went red, waving it off.
Mabel, thankfully, continued on with her break-up speech. "Hey, but we can still be makeover buddies, right? Wouldn't you like that?"
"Really?" He looked so hopeful, Camo almost felt bad when Mabel ripped off his magic bolo tie. Actually, no, she definitely didn't feel bad for him. He just exposed her name to the twins, so now she hated him with every fiber of her being.
"No! Not really! You were like attacking my brother! What the heck?!" She threw Gideon's tie to Dipper, who had fallen back to the ground when she'd removed it, but Gideon yelled, rammed into the preteen, and sent them both flying out the window behind them. "Dipper!" Mabel screamed, and Camo didn't even have to think, she acted on instinct. She grabbed the bolo tie and caught both of the boys before they could meet their squishy demises. She floated her and Mabel out into the moonlight, feeling a little bit like a wrathful guardian angel as she lowered everyone down. She then tossed the tie to Mabel, who said: "Listen, Gideon, it's over. I will never, ever date you." She threw the bolo tie on a rock, where it exploded with a puff of magic.
"Yeah! Karma!" Camo cheered.
"My powers!" Gideon whined. He looked up and glared at the three kids. "Oh, this isn't over. This isn't the last you'll see of widdle ol' me." He walked backwards into the woods, pointing at them in what was probably supposed to be an intimidating fashion. They just looked between each other, shrugged, and made their way back home.
"So . . . Chamomile?" Dipper asked, and she winced.
"Yeah, okay . . . um, my full name is Chamomile Hydrangea Persephone. It's dumb, I know, but there's a reason, okay? It's a big joke on my dad's side of the family, since Persephone is the Greek goddess of flowers . . . anyway, everybody gets a flower name. My dad is Rhododendron, though he goes by Rhodey, my mom's just Lily, and . . ." She had an older brother, too, Snapdragon, but she didn't want to explain away the fact that she had a brother who wasn't staying with her or her parents, so she decided to forego his existence. "Yeah, it's dumb, so I just go by Camo."
"Aw, it's so pretty!" Mabel said.
"Oh, you are never living this down," Dipper chuckled, and she punched him in the arm.
Boys are dumb.