The Shack was closed for repairs. That left Camo bored and reading, once again. Dipper was reading Journal 2, since he hadn't read that one yet, Mabel was blowing a bag of cheese puffs up with her mouth, and Stan was reading the paper. Camo had resorted to rereading even the garbage stuff on her shelf, since that was all she had left and she read way too fast.

Ford probably had some cool stuff to read in the basement, but they weren't allowed to see him for more than a couple minutes at a time. Ugh. You would think having a paranormal scientist living in your basement would be interesting, but no.

"I just ate a bag of cheese boodles without using my hands," Mabel said triumphantly. "Lazy Tuesday, you are delivering in a big way." Well, it had certainly been interesting, watching her eating them like a dog, having opened the bag with her feet and the floor.

Stan chuckled. "Yeah, it's nice to finally have a day where nothing interesting happens whatsoever."

To prove him wrong, the vending machine opened up, revealing Ford, fighting some one-eyed octopus thing. Camo turned to Stan with an unamused expression. "You cursed the lazy Tuesday," she said unhappily. The twins were screaming, because of course they were, but she just closed her book and watched the scientist fight the monster.

He punched it, it skittered across the floor, everyone was panicking except her. She just moved to on top of the counter, so it couldn't reach her. However, it moved right up the barrel and on top of her. She shrieked and rolled off the counter and onto the floor, just before Ford stepped on where she'd just been.

She glared up at him. He didn't notice.

Everyone got in a position to watch. The octopus thing knocked over a bunch of boxes, and Ford crept closer. She couldn't see it, but she could see the blue light and dramatic shadows as he tasered it. Steam emitted from it, and he proudly held up a blackened husk.

"Great. Now get it outta here," Stan said, pointing towards the vending machine. "Smells like if death could barf."

"How do you know if it can't?" she asked him, and he shrugged.

Dipper, meanwhile, ran after the scientist. "Great Uncle Ford, need any help with that? I've read all about these creatures in your Journal, and I think I—"

"No! I'm sorry, Dipper. On the dark, weird road I travel, I'm afraid you cannot follow." He wore a dramatic expression, and Camo couldn't help but ask a dumb question.

"What if you let him go at the same time as you?" she asked. "Or ahead of you? What if you were the one following?"

He shot her a look of annoyance, then said, "Well, call me for dinner!" He shut the vending machine.

"Not like he even eats a whole lot," she muttered.

Dipper disappointedly watched it close. "Maybe next time, then?" he asked hopefully. "Or not. Or never."

Mabel went over to console him as his expression very quickly deteriorated. "Oh, Dipper, don't take it so hard."

Stan's method was a little rougher. He slapped his nephew on the head with his paper and told him, "No, do take it hard. Take it hard and serious. My brother is a dangerous know-it-all and the stuff he's messing with is even worse. Do yourself a favor and stay away from him, you hear me?"

"But, Grunkle Stan, all summer long, I've wanted to know who the Author of the Journal was. Now, the guy lives in our basement, and I can't even talk to him," he argued. Or maybe 'complained' was a better word.

"Don't worry about what's in the basement," Stan told him, shoving it off. "You belong up here with me, Mabel, and Camo."

Camo grinned, and Mabel cheered. "Yeah! Besides, the season finale of Ducktective is airing this Friday. That's all the mystery you need this week." Her grin turned a little more sly. Oh, were they in for a treat . . . "Come on, quack with us, Dipper. Quack, quack, quack."

The other two joined in after a moment, leaving them quacking and spinning in circles and with their arms in places like wings, and Dipper just stared at them, unimpressed. She didn't stop when he sadly looked at the vending machine.

"Why isn't he quacking?" Mabel asked, sad and confused.

Camo sat on the floor next to Mabel, trying to read. She kept getting distracted, by the TV, or by Mabel writing her letter to her parents, or by the awesome poses Waddles was in on the chair. "Dear Mom and Dad," Mabel wrote and read aloud, "we've been in Gravity Falls for a few months, and so much has happened. Just yesterday, gravity reversed itself, almost destroying the universe, and totally wrecking the whole town."

The older girl raised an eyebrow to her over her book. Was it smart to tell her parents that? Mabel was now happily watching the ad, which showed all (well, not all, just most) of the chaos following.

"But the coolest part of the summer was when Grunkle Stan's twin brother came out of this portal thingy. Now we have two grunkles for the price of one," she said happily. "And they are adorable together." She couldn't resist a snort. "'We love each other so much!'" She folded it to they were kissing, which was just weird.

"Oh, you better tell them that I totally guessed the twist," Camo ordered. Mabel scribbled it on her sheet.

Just then, Dipper ran in with a box. "Guys, you'll never guess what I found at the store today," he said excitedly, running in.

"Dogs! Dogs with hats!" Mabel said.

"That cool video game that's going to be the collapse of society that's coming out this year," Camo suggested. The twins looked at her, and she laughed. "Just kidding. That hasn't happened yet."

He walked over and set the box on the floor. "No. It's my favorite fantasy-talking, level-counting, statistics and graph-paper involving game of all time: Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons!" He ripped off the paper and held it up proudly. "You wanna play it with me?"

The girls looked at the box. A couple people played the game, with various fantasy creatures around them. "Well, I do like unicorns, and that hot elf looks promising," Mabel said.

Camo just shrugged. "It's better than rereading garbage books. I'm in."

"How do you play?" they said at once.

"The rules are simple. First, you roll a 38-sided die to determine the level of each player's statistical analysis power orb. These orbs relate directly to the amount of quadrants that your team has dominion over, which is inverse to the anti-quadrants in your quadrant satchel."

During this monologue, Mabel got increasingly suspicious, but she returned to her usual self to ask, "And then we ride unicorns?"

"Yes!" Her eyes got big and she gasped happily. "And no." She pouted. "First, we make a graph."

Mabel groaned, and Camo couldn't blame her. "This is like Homework the Game."

"Yeah, she's got a point," Camo agreed, and Dipper looked at her in betrayal. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. You're reading the instruction booklet directly, aren't you?" He nodded. "Well, how about I read through it, and I translate the nerd words through a normal filter so Mabel can understand it. Okay?"

He sighed, but nodded. Mabel looked a little more interested now.

"Okay, Mabel. I've played something kind of similar to this, and, if I'm right, the premise of the game is this: you play a character who you make. It can even be a hot elf if you want it to be"—the younger girl gasped happily—"or a whole slew of other things. Your character and everyone else's characters, collectively called a party, go on adventures, fight monsters, and get treasure. Does that sound a little more fun?"

She nodded with a grin. "And when do you ride the unicorns?"

"Well, it depends," she answered. "Different dungeons, or places that the party is in, have different activities. The DM, or whatever it's called in this game, is basically in charge of everything other than your characters, and they decide what happens." She spared Dipper a sideways glance. "And, if someone's smart, he'll make there be a unicorn derby race or something."

The younger girl gasped again, the sparkles in her eyes even larger. "Teach me!"

So, Camo began to read through and explain Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons as Dipper sadly walked away. Huh. Maybe he felt left out? . . . she had kind of stolen the explaining job. But he was doing a really bad job of it, so she didn't feel bad about it.

Mostly.

Dipper played on his own outside. Well, not completely alone. He was playing with Gompers while Camo taught Mabel how to play. He knew it would eventually be for the better, but . . . he was bored now. Plus, he kind of wanted to be the one to explain.

The goat rolled, and he peered down to look at it. "Oh, nice, you rolled a 17." He sat up and thought about his life choices for a second as Gompers bleated. "And this is sad. Maybe I should start obsessing over Wendy again."

All of a sudden, Gompers grabbed the die in his mouth and started munching on it. He gasped. "Hey, give it back." They had a momentary game of tug-of-war over the die in the goat's mouth. "Come on, Gompers. Let go." He tugged, and it finally came through. He fell onto his back, and the die rolled out of his hands and under the couch. "Oh, man, my 38-sided die!"

He watched it roll to a hole in the ground. Determinedly, he crawled forward to go get it back. He was almost there when—

"Watcha doing, Dipper?"

He yelped, and the die rolled a little further away when he banged his head on the underside of the porch. He groaned and pulled himself out to look at the speaker. "Camo? What're you doing here?"

"Watching my friend crawl under a porch and get all dirty," she replied, sitting down criss cross applesauce on the ground and looking at him. He opened his mouth to clarify, but she held up a hand. "Okay, I know what you're going to say. Mabel got bored with the instructions and went to go play with Waddles. It's still a little bland for her, but maybe at some point in the future." She looked at him oddly. "What are you doing, though?"

"Um." He felt himself go a little red. "My 38-sided die went under the porch."

She looked at the board and raised an eyebrow. "Who were you playing with?"

"The goat."

Aaaaand now she was grinning at him. Great. "Wow, you're desperate. I told you I'd play with you, and I wasn't lying. You might have to explain some of the rules to me, though, because based on that rule book, this is much more complicated than the version I know."

"Deal. I'm gonna go get that die."

She mock saluted him, so he went back to crawling under the porch. There it was. He reached out to grab it, but the ground collapsed. He screamed as he and the die went down through the hole he'd spotted earlier. He crashed through a layer of wood, fell on a table, and then on the floor. He could just barely make out Camo saying, "Dipper! I'll go get a rope or something!"

He mumbled an affirmative and groaned, lifting his head up. Where was he? Wait, he knew this place. He was in the basement. He got to his feet and, looking around a bit, grabbed his die. However, he was cut off by a voice saying, "Dipper, stop!"

He looked behind him. "Great Uncle Ford!" he said, somewhat panicked.

"What did I say about coming down here?" the man asked ominously, stepping out of the shadow and into the light. "My work is far too dangerous for a single living soul to spend even one second—" He spotted the thing in his hand. "Wait. Is that a 38-sided die from Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons?" he asked excitedly.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed. "Y-you know that game?"

"With pen and paper, shield and sword . . ." Great Uncle Ford started, and he joined in. "Our quest shall be our sweet reward!" There was dramatic lighting and everything, though another shadow popped down and kind of ruined it.

Camo gave them both her patented odd look. "Did I just stumble into some kind of nerd cult?" she asked, dangling from the rope she must've brought to help him. They just laughed as if she'd never come.

"This is my favorite game in the whole multi-verse," Great Uncle Ford explained with a smile. "I can't believe they still make it."

"They do, and I've been looking all day for someone to play with me," Dipper said, pulling out his rule book. He missed Camo's grin fading and being replaced with a sad face.

The man grabbed the book from him and looked at him. "My boy, do you know what this means? We must stop everything I've been working on at once, and play!"

Dipper grinned widely in excitement.

The cycloptupus fastened itself on Great Uncle Ford's head, and he pulled it off, his grin not fading. "That's going to leave a mark."

They stood there, smiling at each other for another moment, until there was a scream, and Camo fell on her face, her rope having snapped. "I think I'll go back up with you two," she told them, her voice somewhat muffled by the ground.

"Okay, I think we've got everything we need to watch the season finale of Ducktective tomorrow," Mabel said, looking at the oodles of popcorn, chips, soda, and gummy worms in front of them.

Camo beamed at all the junk food, but she did raise a good question. "Why are the chips and popcorn made already? Why is everything out in bowls? Or is this the before-snacking snack?"

Stan pointed at her. "I like that idea."

"Of course you do. I made it."

Mabel pulled out her snack machine, or whatever. "I even made mouth ramps so we can pour food into our mouths without taking our eyes off the screen." She demonstrated, getting popcorn and chips all over the floor.

Camo touched her nose. "Not the one cleaning the floor afterwards."

"And I recreated the main character out of spare taxidermy parts," Stan said proudly after using the stapler gun on a monster straight out of hell. "Quack, quack. I'm the duck detective." It had the body of a beaver and the head of a turkey, with a detective hat and staples and glue. "Who stole my bread loaf?"

Stan and Mabel both laughed, though Camo was staring at it, horrified. "That is so messed up," Mabel said, popcorn falling out of her mouth. "Dipper would love that."

"Huh. Yeah." The head of "Ducktective" fell off, revealing its stuffing. "Where is the little squirt, anyway? I haven't seen him all afternoon."

"Oh, he's playing D, D, and D with Ford," Camo said with a shrug, missing Stan's furious expression. "I was going to play with him, but that game makes no sense, even to me. Too complicated."

The old man seethed. "He's WHAT?!"

"Um . . ." She edged away. "I'm gonna go check up on them, okay?" And get away from you while you're in this mood. She speed-walked over to the vending machine and went down into the basement. Where had they set up?

Oh, there they were. "Prime statistical anomalies over 37 but not exceeding 51!" the two nerds chorused. She wondered how much she had missed in the fifteen minutes she was gone.

Not much, from the look of it. He'd only just figured out it was a trap? Seriously? This game was so slow. "Yes!" Dipper did a little victory dance. "In your face, you cardboard wizard!"

Ford looked at the art with a smile. "Hmm, the old boy looks a bit different than he did back in my day."

"Yeah, they change the art every few years," Dipper agreed. "Thankfully, you missed the period when the creators of the game tried to make it 'cooler.'" He shuddered. "Must've been dark times, those '90s."

Camo wondered if watching them without saying anything meant she was spying. Then she realized she didn't particularly care.

"Yeesh. Sounds like a good time to be stuck between dimensions," Ford joked.

"Great Uncle Ford, I've been meaning to ask you. Where were you before you came out of that machine, and what have you been doing down here? Are you working on something behind that curtain?" Oh, so he could open his eyes and pay attention.

Ford's reply was more subdued. "Dipper, it's best if you and the family stay away from that subject. Honestly, I'm not sure any of you could handle the real answer."

"But I can handle it."

Camo chose that moment to reveal herself. "What about me? I'm not family. Can I know?"

Dipper leapt back in panic, though Ford didn't seem surprised that she was there. "No. Also, you're not as good at spying as you think you are."

"I actually wasn't trying," she admitted. "I just didn't say anything for a while." I'm better at spying than you think, Ford. Significantly better.

He sighed. "Well, I can show you a little something I brought with me," the man shrugged, pulling out his dice bag and showing them a black plastic case. When he opened it, it had a weird die in it. "An infinity-sided die." The sides kept changing shape and symbol, and it was really cool looking. Dipper gasped from next to her.

"That's so cool . . . and impossible," he said.

"Well, if it's from another dimension, the rules might be different there," Camo reasoned.

Ford gave them a risky look. "These things are outlawed in 9,000 dimensions. Wanna know why? Look at those symbols. Infinite sides means infinite outcomes. If I rolled it, anything could happen. Our faces could melt into jelly. The world could turn into an egg. Or you could just roll an eight. Who knows? That's why I have to keep it in this protective cheap plastic case. Now, back to the game."

"Not yet!" Camo interrupted. "I have some questions. How does it work? I'm guessing the die bends time and space, since those things you listed are impossible, unless it screws with probability and makes something completely improbably happen so that those things actually seem reasonable. Like, something in this lab shoots at you and that turns your face into jelly, or would your face just spontaneously turn into jelly?"

The man rested a six-fingered hand on her shoulder. "You remind me of myself. I'll answer your questions later. Seriously, though, I want to play. Get." He shooed her away, and she pouted slightly. Well. Back to Ducktective planning.

"Thanks for coming over to watch tonight's Ducktective finale, Grenda, Jason," Mabel said. Mabel, Grenda, and Camo wore the hats, and Grenda had a Ducktective plushie, and Mabel had an on-theme sweater, but none of them went as far as Jason.

After all, he did have cosplay stuff.

He was completely dressed up as the Constable, even with that little mustache and the hat. Camo grinned at her boyfriend and hugged him. He went his customary pink, though it faded. She realized that her relationship with him was getting him more confidence, which only made her grin widen. She held up her penguin (actually Mabel's, but it had been lent to her) with a beret on, meant to be that one character Steve.

"Of course," Grenda said, and it took Camo a second to realize she was replying to Mabel. "I'm so invested in the lives of these characters."

"Hey, hey, look at you," Mabel said with a big smile as Stan walked in with his normal suit, though he had a better tie than usual. "Someone's all dressed up."

Camo wove her arms in Mabel's face. "Uh, what?! You say that when Stan wears a different tie than normal, but not when Jason shows up in an entire cosplay outfit of the Constable? Really?"

Everyone ignored her. "It's a big night," Stan said. She pouted, folding her arms and squeezing "Steve" practically to death. Jason patted her on the shoulder, and she smiled a little at that. "I think we all remember where we were when we learned Ducktective was shot," Stan continued, putting his fez to his chest. They all took a somber moment to remember it.

That old grandfather clock as old as the Stans chimed, and everyone gasped. "Viewing positions, everyone!" Mabel shouted, but Camo was way ahead of her. She was already in the door and looking at the living room in horror when everyone else showed up. Dipper and Ford sat, playing D, D, and D in the middle of the room, having covered every little bit of it in paper.

"Guys, couldn't you have chosen a different room?" Camo moaned, crouching down near them. "It's Ducktective time!"

"Ahh! Graph paper! Kill it, kill it!" Grenda screamed, stomping on the paper.

Mabel walked up. "Yeah, Dipper, could you maybe move this to another room?"

"No dice," Ford said, and Camo gave him a nasty look. "We ran out of room in the basement and we're going for a world record. Now, dice!" He rolled it, though Camo was too busy glaring at him to see what it was. He told her, though. "Thirty-two. Yes! 7,000 points damage."

Everyone else groaned and dropped their snacks. Camo tugged on Jason's arm. "Is there any chance we can watch at your house?"

He shook his head. "Nope. My living room's in worse condition than this one right now."

She sighed and thought about a certain keycard sitting in her room. Her motel room hadn't been deactivated, since the time guys were paying that on their own, and she had no clue how to get the money from that. Maybe they could watch it at the motel? Though, that place wasn't exactly five stars . . .

Still, everyone was too busy complaining, and so she hopped on the bandwagon.

"Why? Why with this?" Stan asked. "Wanna break a record, Ford? You already got it for world's nerdiest old man."

"Hey, at least I'm not all keyed up to watch a kids' show."

"I'll have you know that Ducktective has a big mystery element, and a lot of humor that goes over kids' heads."

"I don't get a lot of it, but I like animals in human situations," Grenda piped up.

Jason murmured, "And it's fun to cosplay . . ." Camo smiled and stole his hat, leading to him frowning at her and taking it back with some difficulty.

Mabel looked up to Stan for help. "Grunkle Stan, it starts in a few minutes!" Stan pushed through the kids and towards the TV, motioning to pull off some of the papers. Ford grabbed his wrist, though, and glared at him.

"Move that and pay the price."

Stan looked at his brother and mocked, "Oh, what, 50 magical dwarf dollars?"

"Don't mock our fantastical monetary system!" Ford snapped.

"I'll mock all I want. It's my TV room."

"It's my house! You . . ." Ford seemed to realize he was losing his cool, and he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Listen, Stanley, did it ever occur to you that if you joined us, you might actually have fun?" He shook his dice bag.

Stan looked shocked at the idea. "What? Now you listen to me. As long as I live, I will never—" He grabbed the dice bag.

Camo and Dipper's eyes widened at the same time. "Grunkle Stan, wait!" the preteen shrieked.

"Ever."

Ford was terrified. "Stanley!"

"Play your smarty-pants nerd game!"

The dice bag went out of Stan's hand and emptied out on the floor. The dice case opened, and the infinity die rolled out, though obviously she couldn't see what it landed on. What she could see was the blue lightning surrounding the game box, and the D, D, and D characters that exploded into the living room.

Camo looked at the scene, unimpressed. Then she pulled on her boyfriend and said, "You know, I don't care if we can't watch Ducktective at your house. It's better than being here with these selfish idiots."

He shrugged, and the two of them left for town.

She didn't miss the blue ray of numbers that tore a massive hole in the side of the Shack, though. She'd have to be even more blind to miss that.

They walked in comfortable silence, and, after a moment's hesitation, she held his hand, and he grabbed hers, too. It was nice, a comfortable stroll in the woods, pretending that a board game character hadn't just come out of an infinity die.

Jason cleared his throat, and she looked at him. "So, Camo, I've been thinking." She opened her mouth to say something sarcastic, but then she thought better of it. She motioned for him to continue. "I . . . I was w-wondering if . . . if maybe you wanted to . . . to get something to eat? Like, just the two of us?"

She smirked. "You mean, a date?"

He went red, but nodded.

She gave him a peck on the cheek. "Sure. And we can go to the movies, or something, after, right?"

He smiled. "I . . . I'd like that."

Their date went pretty well. They didn't go to the movies, but they did get ice cream, which she considered a plus. At some point, Stan called her, wondering if they wanted to watch Ducktective with the rest of them, now that they'd defeated the wizard dude.

So, they were all in their viewing positions. Stan in the chair, Dipper next to him, Mabel sitting on the dinosaur skull, Soos and Grenda on the floor, Jason off to the left of the chair, and Camo rather precariously propped up on the arm of the chair, her legs dangling off behind the side table.

"I'm going to that big pond in the sky," Ducktective quacked. The Constable sadly looked down at the scene, taking off his hat and holding it out in front of him.

Wiping a tear from his eye, he said, "I just don't understand who shot you. The only person clever enough to defeat Ducktective is . . ." He gasped. "Ducktective!"

A piece of metal came from nowhere and knocked the man out. A second duck walked out of the shadows and into the room. This one had a goatee. "Time to finish the job," the newcomer quacked. "TWIN BROTHER!"

"QUUUUUUAAAACK!"

Everyone was unimpressed, though Camo was grinning smugly. "He had a twin brother all along? That's the big twist we were waiting for?" Mabel asked, disbelievingly. Her chips fell out of the can and onto Stan's lap, though she didn't seem to notice.

"What a rip-off," Grenda agreed, slamming her hand down.

"I predicted that, like, a year ago," Soos commented.

Camo shrugged. "The media from the future already spoiled that twist for me." Everyone except the twins was looking at her oddly now, and she realized that she hadn't told everyone else that yet. She chuckled nervously. "So, about that . . ."

Sorry for the wait. I had family over for the past week. Updates should pick back up a little more now.