Camo sat down in the seat next to Stan. She wasn't sure why they were there, actually—just that Stan had been bummed that morning because he spent time buying light bulbs while Ford made a new one. She didn't trust that thing, anyway. What kind of radiation was it emitting that it made her skin softer?

So, she was planning on spending as little time in that room as possible for the rest of the summer, just so she wasn't risking skin cancer or something.

Anyway, they sat down on the bench. The old mayor had died, apparently, and this meeting was to replace him. "All right, order!" Sherriff Blubs called, banging the gavel. "Order, everyone! Calm down, now." The conversations slowly ended. "We're here to choose a mayor for the first time in almost a century. According to the town charter . . ." He opened it up and started to read, oblivious to the bat flying off of it.

". . . a worthy candidate is defined as anyone who can cast a shadow, count to ten, and throw their hat into the provided ring." Deputy Durland provided the ring, and almost immediately, a hat fell in it.

Everyone turned toward the owner: Bud Gleeful. She glowered slightly. "Well, now, I do believe I fulfill all the requirements," he chuckled.

"You're sure you can count to ten? Think that requires at least two brain cells!" Camo called out, and Bud spun around angrily, trying to figure out who said that. She smirked to herself.

Dipper stared at the new candidate. "Wait. Bud Gleeful?"

"He looks good, considering we threw his son in jail," Mabel commented.

"That was a good day," Stan said with a smile.

Bud walked up to the podium, having proved to everyone that he could, in fact, count to ten, which had surprised Camo to no end. "Now, folks, I know our family has had its fair share of whoopsie-daisies in the past, but I'd like to make up for it by formally announcing my candidacy for the mayor of Gravity Falls! Any questions?"

She frowned slightly at that logic.

"Yes," Toby Determined said with his awful nasally voice. "Are you still in contact with Little Gideon?"

"That's a great question!" Bud exclaimed. "I'm giving you 50 percent off a used car."

"Fifty percent? Fifty percent?!"

"In fact, everyone look under your seats. You get half off a used car. You get half off a used car!"

The twins pulled out the coupon, along with everyone except Stan and Camo. "Wow! A colorful piece of paper! He's got my vote," Mabel said.

Camo pulled hers out just to wave it in the younger girl's face, not caring that she had to go over Stan's lap to do so. "This, young Padawan, is called bribery." She then proceeded to sit back and fold her coupon into a paper airplane, with the intent of throwing it at Bud's face.

"Guys, I've got a really bad feeling about Bud Gleeful as mayor," Dipper pointed out.

Soos said, "I don't know, dude, it's not like we have a lot of good mayor options. Everyone in this town is a tad strange, except, ironically, Tad Strange." He gestured to the man in question, who wore a collared shirt, a black tie, and had his hair neatly styled.

"Hi, guys," Tad said. "Tad's the name, and being normal is my game." His voice was so bland.

"Loving you, Tad!" Mabel said, pointing at him.

He pulled a slice of bread out of his pocket. "And I love bread."

Camo shuddered as she looked at him. "Maybe being strange isn't so bad . . . it's better than carrying bread in my pockets."

"It's a shame Ford isn't here," Dipper said. "He'd run and win, and be a great mayor." Camo stared up at Stan, whose face had gone wrong with jealousy. Her hands drifted up to her pirate hat. There were no age limits, after all . . . maybe . . . ?

Bud was trying to cheat his way on. "So, since everyone's happy, I'll just take the oath of office now, sound good? Gavel up." He raised to smack it, but Stan threw his hat in the hoop. Everyone gasped and, with a grin, Camo threw hers in too, though she knew she definitely didn't want to be mayor. She was going to go with the Camobel strat: gain popularity, deflect it to another candidate.

"Hold it right there, Bud!" Stan said, pointing at the offender. "I'm taking you on!" The twins gasped.

"Yeah, what he said!" Camo cheered, falling over the bench at an empty space so she laid on it.

Bud looked at them strangely. "Stanford?" he asked. "No o-ffense, but you're just some two-bit carnival barker, and your head is more ears than face! And, Chamomile"—she growled slightly—"you're just a child! You can't be mayor!"

"I didn't hear anything about age in the requirements," she spat back.

"And, your face is more fat than . . . not fat!" Stan added, and everyone gasped again.

She heard Mr. Boring Man Tad Strange say, "Oh, snap."

"What do you say, folks?" Stan asked the crowd, and Camo assumed a similar pose next to him. "Are we just gonna let Bud win? How about a real election?"

Tyler Cutebiker led the crowd, shouting, "Get in there, cap!" Before long, lots of hats were in the hoop. Camo made a joking grab for Dipper's pine tree hat, but he grabbed it and shoved it back on his head with an unamused glance.

"Well, looks like we got some competition here, folks," Bud said nervously. She could see the sweat that the crowd probably couldn't. "Which I'm fine with, totally fine with." He leaned down and spun around the two candidates. His next words were hissed. "I was gonna let bygones be bygones, Stan, but you just made a powerful enemy. You too, Chamomile."

She bit her lip to prevent herself from not biting back with a sharp retort.

"I'll win either way, and when I do, you might not like the Gravity Falls you wake up in." He punched the picture of the Mystery Shack on the map behind him and, despite the twins being far behind, she audibly heard them gasp.

There was a moment of silence, then everyone started cheering, "Election! Election! Election!" and filed out. The Pines plus Camo were left there standing, the former looking stunned and the latter looking confident. Then the twins turned into annoyance.

"Grunkle Stan, Camo, what are you doing?" Mabel demanded.

"Running for mayor," they said in unison.

He added on a little more. "Did I . . . did I not make that clear?"

"Grunkle Stan, it's not that we think you can't do it, it's just—"

"No, no, it's okay, Mabel. We don't think you can do it. And, Camo, I thought you at least were better than this."

She raised her eyebrows and backed up. "Hey, don't pin this on me. I don't care two ounces about becoming mayor. I just wanna help him." She jutted out her thumb at Stan, who was looking somber, for some reason.

"Look, kids, the mayor kicking the bucket got me thinking." He sat down and looked at the floor. "I'm an old man, and I'm not getting any younger. My dumb brother's research is probably gonna make him famous, and what do I have to show for my life? Do I really want "crooked grifter" on my tombstone? How about "crooked mayor"?"

The twins went over to talk about something, probably something negative about Stan's candidacy. Meanwhile, Stan got to work on voter fraud. Camo watched him, interested, but his words bothered her. He didn't need to be famous, though, did he? He'd definitely changed her life. "Stan?"

"Yeah?"

". . . nothing." That was too cheesy. She shoved it off and went to help her boss commit a crime.

That was always fun.

Before long, the Shack was completely covered in Stan propaganda. It hadn't taken much effort for her to convince them to not make merch for her campaign, since she wasn't planning on holding onto it for very long.

They were all sitting in the living room. Camo sat on the little steps, making notes that Stan would probably agree to make in his speeches, but wouldn't send the crowd into a riot. It was a thin margin, so she had to make sure she was squeezing in every single little bit she could. It was proving much more difficult than she had expected.

At the moment, her notes consisted of:

~lowering taxes and staying out of people's lives more since they don't like you anyway (that's a joke, but put it in anyway)
~bring in minorities, but in a way that's less likely to anger racists/sexists/whateverists
~DO NOT TALK ABOUT HOW GREAT CRIME IS (even if it is)

The last one was also circled, and underlined several times. She twiddled her pencil in her hand, biting her lip in thought.

"All right, everybody, eyes up here," Dipper called. She shoved her pencil behind her ear. Scuff, she liked these Stan baseball hats. She could see why Dipper wore a similar one every day. "Okay, Gravity Falls elections are based on two events: the Wednesday Stump Speech, held on an actual . . . stump, and the Friday Debate, wherein townsfolk throw bird seed at the candidate they like most. At the end, they release a Freedom Eagle, who will fly to the candidate covered in more seed and bestow a birdly kiss upon him, anointing him mayor."

Everyone stared at him. He furled it up and deadpanned, "I couldn't make this up if I wanted to."

The burger phone rang. (Why did they have a burger phone?) Mabel grabbed it, saying, "Okay, Grunkle Stan, are you ready for your first radio interview?"

"I got my mouth, don't I?" he asked.

Camo gave him her notes and shook her head. "No, he really, really isn't. I can only see this going horribly."

"Okay, you're on with the candidate."

She handed the phone to Stan, and Camo settled down to watch the chaos. She couldn't hear the questions, but she could hear his reply. "Eh. I can take it or leave it. Too many stripes. Next question?" So, something about the flag that he just failed. "Ha! Simple. Put them on an island and make them fight for dominance. Also, teach kids swears. That'll bring them into the real world. "

The twins exchanged a nervous look, and she couldn't blame them.

She heard something about crime in the next question, and her eyes went wide. He hadn't even looked at her page, with its measly notes! "Wait. Do you mean crime in general, or just the specific crimes committed by m—" He was cut off. Camo had spotted Dipper about to cut the phone wire, but she still had to have her interview, so she stopped him just in time, settling for ripping it out of his hands.

She looked at the burger phone in her hand, unsure of what to do. She assumed a secretary-ish voice, said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Pines can't be here right now. Call back later," and hung up.

"Okay, interview's over," Dipper said. "Candy, what's the damage?"

"Your approval rating started at zero. Now, it's a number lower than zero."

Wendy showed them her phone. "You're meme-ing fast, and none of them are good."

"Look, Grunkle Stan, people are like smell markers, and you're black licorice. It's not that you're unsniffable, you just need to learn when to keep the cap on," Mabel said. If you hadn't guessed that was Mabel, well, what the scuff are you doing here? You clearly don't know these characters.

Dipper started to add on his critique, but it was time for her interview, so Camo grabbed the burger phone and sat at the table, trying to ignore the argument happening around her.

"Yup, this is Camo HP. So, as for the flag, I really like the symbolism . . ."

It was the day of the Stump Speech. Camo sat on the backstage, listening to Tyler Cutebiker's campaign. "Education? Get it! Prosperity? Get it! A Gravity Falls we can be proud of? Get it!" There was some clapping and cheering, and she hummed. That was pretty good.

. . . she might actually vote for him instead of Stan. He sounded like he could actually make a pretty good mayor.

Behind her, Stan said, "Ugh! Do I really have to wear this thing? It looks like a flag threw up on me."

She turned to him with a deadpan expression. "Have you seen your niece?"

"Grunkle Stan, just trust your lucky tie," Mabel said. Her expression was suspicious to Camo. What was going on? . . . did the twins have something planned that she didn't know about? Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Stan was called up, and she returned to listening. However, the twins stepped in front of her with clearly forced smiles. "Hey, Camo," Dipper said, "how about you watch from the crowd? See his physical actions and stuff?"

She narrowed her eyes even more, but, well, they'd never reveal their secret if she was sitting there. So, she shrugged and walked towards the corner, at which point she hid and spied on them. Mabel put on a tie, for some reason, and said, "Okay, we'll only jump in if he starts doing badly."

Jump in? What did that mean?

"Hiya there!" Stan said from onstage. "Stan Pines here. Let's get real. Do you think the women of Gravity Falls wear too much makeup?"

"Jump in! Jump in!" Dipper shrieked, and Mabel did something to the tie.

Stan spoke again. "Uhh! Uh, what I meant to say was, you ladies all look great. And have you done something with your hair? Girl, you are working it!"

As Camo watched, she frowned in confusion. As Stan spoke, Mabel did, too. Also, Stan would never say that of his own volition. So, either he had decided to take their notes all of a sudden, which was unlikely . . . or something more diabolical was going on.

"I'm Stan Pines. You may know me as the guy who accidentally let all those bees loose in that elementary school a few years back," Stan and Mabel said in unison.

Dipper looked to panic, and he shoved the tie on his own head. "But I believe in things," they said together. "America. Freedom. Ameri-freedom. Like my opponent pointed out, I may not have a pretty face, but if you want a candidate that will listen to you, well, I'm proud to be all ears."

The crowd chattered approvingly, and Camo's frown deepened. That was a very Dipper-ish thing to say. A horrible thought was forming.

Mabel took back the tie. "Now, watch me break it down!" She started dancing, and she guessed Stan was doing the same thing onstage. There was a lot of cheers and applauding, and then she did the thing with the tie again, and after a moment, Stan walked back out, looking very confused.

"Grunkle Stan, that was amazing!" Mabel said, running up and hugging him.

Soos walked up. "Yeah! How'd you do it, Mr. Pines?"

"Uh, I don't know. I just opened my mouth and spoke from the heart. Or gut. Or something." Or tie. "What is that sound? Why are people jamming their hands together?"

"It's applause!" Mabel exclaimed. "Grunkle Stan, they love you!"

"They . . . love me?"

Camo walked over with a very disapproving expression. She had an idea, and, knowing the twins, it was probably right. They took a picture, and she forced a grin on her face, hoping it looked more confident than she felt. Then Stan was led away by the reporters, and she turned to the twins, glaring at them.

She said, with quiet fury, "Did you do what I think you did?"

They looked terrified. She took that as a yes.

She huffed, biting her lip to keep herself from shouting at them. "Are you serious?" she asked, looking at them with betrayal. "Mind control. That's what that was, right? You took away his sense of free will for what? So he could do well in the polls?"

"But—but this means a lot to him!" Dipper protested. "He really wants this. So . . . we gave him a little help . . ."

She scoffed. "Help? No, Dipper, that was not help. That was doing it all yourself because you don't trust him to make the right decision. Maybe he wouldn't have done well. Maybe the crowd would've hated him. Maybe he wouldn't've felt great. But what'll you do if he actually does win, and you can't use that dumb tie to control him then? The people will expect him to act one way, and he'll be completely different."

With a disappointed sigh, she turned away. "Come on, guys. I thought you were better than this."

She moved to walk away, but a hand caught her wrist. "Please don't tell him," Mabel pleaded. "We'll tell him eventually. But . . . I don't want him to have to hear it from you."

"You have until election day," she warned them. "After that, I tell him, and I'm not gonna sugarcoat it."

Stan continued to do well, but Camo had stopped caring. It wasn't him winning, anyway, so why should she care? She stayed home for every one of the debates and speeches after that, reading or drawing or hanging out with Jason. It got . . . lonely, but she didn't want to get mad at the twins any more than she had to, so she didn't go.

But, she did go to the main election, if only because everyone else was going, too. She'd probably vote Tyler Cutebiker, but whatever.

Stan came up to her before it, looking angry. "Camo, did you know that those dumb kids—"

"Oh, so you found out," she said uncaringly, not looking up from her book. "You found out about their moral fallacies and the fact that they mind controlled you the entire time. Good for you."

He opened his mouth to say something, but then another thought seemed to occur to him. "How long have you known?" he asked.

She sighed. "Since the Stump Speech. I . . . I didn't tell you because Mabel told me not to. You would've gotten really mad if it came from me, even more angry than you are now." She set down her book and rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm sorry. I've got a soft spot for the twins."

He sighed, too. "I do too." He sat down next to her. "So I'm only doing well because it wasn't me doing well? What am I gonna do? People don't like the actual Stan Pines. They just like it when Mabel and Dipper do it."

They looked at each other. "Well . . . you could do it the Stan way, with a Camo filter," she suggested. He looked disgusted by the thought of a filter, but she shushed him. "No, listen to me. I give you a list of things not to say, because the crowd would start rioting, and you fill in the gaps with your points that would make you a great mayor."

He rubbed his chin. "It could work. You've only got, like, half an hour to make that list, though."

"Oh, trust me," she said confidently. "It's much easier to come up with what you shouldn't say than with what you should."

So, she pulled out that one pad of paper she always kept on herself for no real reason and started to write.

The debate started. Bud looked very strange, being creepily adorable. AKA, he was acting like his son. Also, Soos had entered the race, wearing the mind-control tie and making zero sense. Stan was . . . actually doing fine. Camo had missed a couple on her list, which he did bring up, but it was like a custom filter.

(Though, she was still kind of surprised that he actually agreed to it.)

He wasn't winning, but he had some birdseed in his bucket, so she hadn't done a horrible job. Bud was winning, but . . . scuff, he really was acting like Gideon. Why—?

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh, scuff. They were in trouble.

She ran around, to the back of the stage, to warn the twins. "Guys, guys, guys, we're in trouble," she said, concern pulling her brows together.

"What? Why?" Mabel asked.

"You know how Bud is acting all creepy and stuff? What if he's actually being controlled by—"

A familiar voice that she still never wanted to hear again cut her off. "Wittle ol' me," Gideon said, and the twins gasped. Camo glared at the sight of Bud stepping up to them, all limp, with the screen attached to his chest all fuzzed out. It cleared to show Gideon, in prison orange and with a hair net. "Aha! Hello there! Long time no see," he said. "Except in my revenge fantasies, where I see you on an hourly basis."

"Gideon! I knew you were somehow behind this!" Dipper said.

Camo looked at him, unimpressed. "Excuse me? I was the one who came back here to warn you!"

"You've been controlling Bud!" He continued right along, as if she hadn't said anything.

"And it seems you've been controlling Stanford!" Gideon shot right back. When he moved his arms onscreen, Bud moved his. "I have to hand it to all three of y'all. You've gotten much eviler since I last saw you."

She stepped away. "Just them. I was against that from the moment I figured it out."

He laughed derisively. "You think you're such a perfect flower, don't you, Chamomile? Well, guess what? Daddy." He snapped his fingers, and Bud moved towards them, making zombie noises. The twins whimpered and backed up, and Camo shot up a foot and kicked Gideon in the screen, but it was to no avail. Bud caught them, and up into the statue they went.

He tied the twins into a pair of chairs tied together, rigged with explosives, and Camo he bound completely, by both her wrists and her ankles, letting her just lie on the floor. "Behold your grand view of the debate!" Gideon declared. "Once I win this election, I'll finally rule this backwoods town!"

"You'll never get away with this, you creepy little dork!" Mabel told him.

"And why do you even want Gravity Falls?" Camo asked, confused. "It's a little place in the middle of nowhere."

He ignored her. Of course he did. "Oh, I'd be happy to spare you, Mabel, if you agree to be mine. I even made you this wedding dress in crafts class." He pulled up a hideous dress only vaguely white. "Don't ask what it's made of."

"Ew! I'd rather die, you creep!"

"Fine! Have it your way. Once I win, they'll hit the plunger for the fireworks display, finishing the mountain's construction, trapping y'all inside. I've been trapped behind concrete all summer, now see how you like it!" All three of them gasped. "Say hello to the next mayor of Gravity Falls, kids!" Then he cackled evilly.

They all wriggled. Camo could scoot on the floor a little, pushing her hands forward and then pulling her ankles closer. So, she settled for inching along the floor slowly, towards that one hole, and screaming out of it for help. Gideon had made one big mistake: he hadn't put a gag on her.

"HELP!" she shrieked. "WE'RE TRAPPED UP HERE!" The twins were screaming, too, but she easily drowned them out. "STAN! HELP!"

"We're tied to a bunch of fireworks!" Dipper added.

The twins had scooted their chairs over towards the nostrils, where Camo was at, but a bit of stone crumbled, and they fell through, hanging out of the nose, held up only by the rope tying them to their doom. Camo screamed even louder, and she could hear the crowd doing similarly.

Then things got worse. She'd managed to wiggle one of her hands out of the rope, which was what saved her when she lost her balance, hanging only by one hand. The twins' rope weakened, about to snap, and her hand ached very quickly, as she'd grabbed the stone as fast as she could, and thus had scratched herself, meaning the one hand supporting herself hurt. A lot.

However, she could make out Stan climbing the tower to get up to them. She watched as he reached the top and jumped onto the top of the nose (she guessed he jumped there. She couldn't see it, but since he didn't fall back down, she guessed he'd made it.) The twins' rope snapped, she saw them fall for a split second, but Stan's arm came and grabbed them.

"Grunkle Stan!" the twins said at the same time. Camo smiled weakly up at him as she dangled.

"Kids! Look, I'm sorry I was being stubborn. I guess being the town's hero wasn't enough. I wanted to be yours, too."

Mabel spoke up. "We're sorry, Grunkle Stan. We should have supported you, win or lose."

"Probably lose," Dipper's voice came through.

"I can still drop you, you know."

Still, he pulled them up and hugged them, and they both laughed.

Camo cleared her throat. "That's cute and all, but would you mind rescuing me, too? My hand really hurts."

"Oh, right."

So, after another moment, they stood on top of the nose, Stan's arms wrapped around the three of them, Camo shaking her hand to bring some feeling back into it. The crowd cheered below them, and she could see that Stan's bucket was completely overflowing with birdseed. She could also see Bud about to push the thing, as could the twins and Stan.

"Oh, no!" Dipper exclaimed. "We have to get out of here!"

Stan stood fully up, very dramatically. "Kids, if I die, make sure I get a bigger tombstone than Ford."

The twins nodded solemnly, and Camo just said, "Oh, that's happening either way." Then he grabbed them, holding the one twin in each of his arms and with Camo dangling from his shoulders. All of them screamed as he jumped, just before it blew up. They landed in his massive pile of birdseed, which still hurt, just not as bad. It also smelled horrible.

Molten rocks rained down from the sky, and the timer ran out. The Mayor Pickin' Eagle (as said by the sign) was released, and it flew over to Stan, with his fez slightly askew, and gave him a kiss. It was also standing on Dipper's head, which amused her to no end.

She was the first one to cheer, by a lot of time. Stan helped them out of the pile of birdseed, so they stood there as, after a moment's hesitation, the crowd chanted, "Mayor Pines! Mayor Pines! Mayor Pines!" Fireworks exploded dramatically in the background.

"Well, I guess we know who won," Dipper said.

"This just in," Shandra Jimenez the reporter said, "Stanford Pines loses." The picture on the screen of Stan was covered with a red bar reading DISQUALIFIED. The Pines seemed shocked, but Camo just assumed it was because of his criminal record. "Despite winning an overwhelming 95% of the vote, election officials had to disqualify him due to discovery of an extensive criminal record."

"Oh, boy," Stan said.

Camo clucked her tongue. "There it is. Should've seen that coming."

"Stan, what did you do?" Mabel asked.

"What didn't I do?"

She thought for a moment. "Um . . . I know you've done burglary, but what about robbery? Oh, wait, no, there was that time with the fancy restaurant . . . yeah, can't think of anything off the top of my head that you haven't done."

Dipper turned to her. "What did you do?"

She decided not to answer that question.

"Crimes include shoplifting, teaching bears to drive, a new crime he invented called "burglebezzlement", first-degree llamacide . . ."

"That llama knew too much."

Camo shrugged. "Plus, llamas are evil and breathe fire. Everyone knows that."

"Due to this shocking development"—shouldn't be shocking if you actually knew Stan—"it would appear the mayorship passes to the only candidate who actually filled out their paperwork, local enthusiasm enthusiast, Tyler Cutebiker."

Oh, cool. She would've voted for him, anyway.

They showed a cute little clip of him getting the sash and a big bouquet and blushing, whispering, "Got it."

"We will dedicate the rest of this broadcast to listing Stan's crimes." A massive stack of papers was put in front of her, and Camo snorted. That probably wasn't even half of it.

She turned to Stan. "How are you not in jail without a president's pardon?"

"I need to get one, don't I?" She nodded, and he rubbed his hands together. "What's the fastest way to blackmail the president?"

". . . never mind."

He turned off the TV. "Whew! At least they didn't list any of the bad ones. On an unrelated topic, I have a lot of cheap pugs, and I need to move them fast."

She scooted away. "Crime is awesome, but my criminal record is big enough as it is."

"Hardly. They've barely caught you! You're great at this!"

Dipper brought it back to the topic of mayor, instead of the topic of crime. "Aw, I'm sorry, Stan. I actually think you as mayor would have been fun." Until he got fired.

"Ah, maybe it's for the best. I got close to the dream, though, kids." Especially because of her. She should be a campaign manager.

Mabel looked up at them. "Hey, I knit you something. It's not official, but I think it fits." She held up a sash reading OUR HERO. Camo remembered something and looked away slightly. The younger girl noticed. "And I finally got around to your thing," she added.

She pulled out the most incredible sweater Camo had ever seen.

It was camouflage, but just in black and white and gray. On the front, there was a flower, but it had sunglasses and petal-piercings and all sorts of stuff. She grinned and put it on. It fit perfectly. She hugged her friend. "Thank you!" she squealed.

Both her and Stan were close to tears. Dipper noticed that. "Are you two crying?" he asked.

"I got campaign confetti in my eye," Stan lied, wiping his eyes.

"Yep. I sure am, and he is too." She rubbed her back after Stan kicked it.

He stood up. "Come on, kids, want to go vandalize Mayor Tyler's mansion?"

All of them cheered. Vandalism was already on her record. What could a little more do?