I do not own the show Gravity Falls or any of the characters. They are the property of the Walt Disney Company and of the show's creator, Alex Hirsch. I earn no money from writing my fanfictions; I do them out of love for the show, for practice writing, and to amuse myself and, I hope, other readers.

Cons and Pros

cover art: Amy Sweeney

(June 19-24, 2018)

Prologue: Excerpts from a Letter

Beatrice Bergeron

Bergeron Literary Representatives, Inc

2122 6th Ave Suite 12

New York NY 10021

May 30, 2018

To: Mason Pines

C/O The Mystery Shack

618 Gopher Road

Gravity Falls, OR 97618

Dear Dipper,

I just wrapped up everything with Brangwen and Jan Maryk. This is your packet for the San Diego ComicsCon. You'll find airline vouchers for yourself, your sister, your wife, and your photographer included. At least 48 hours before the trip, check in online to retrieve your tickets. Brangwen Books was very generous! Be sure to thank Jan when she meets you there. Wish I could be there, too! You and Wendy have to come to NYC to meet me in person soon.

Also I've included your convention materials. You'll be taken to the VIP check-in room in the convention center on the afternoon of June 20th. They close shop at seven, but that should give you plenty of time. Just present them with these documents and they'll issue your convention IDs, schedules, maps, etc. I see they have you down for a panel on Friday at 2:00 PM with the head writer, director, and two of the voice talents from the GRANITE RAPIDS cartoon show. Be polite, be generous with your praise of the project, and above all, be energetic!

Following the panel, you'll be autographing books (they'll show you where the autograph center is). Jan has shipped 120 copies of each published title to the convention center already, and her staff will take care of sales and will see that you're kept supplied. Plenty of the visitors will bring their own copies. Don't get writer's cramp!

You have another panel on Saturday at 11:00 AM, this one with the show director and two writers. Same general rules apply. Then lunch, and then at 2:00 PM again, another autograph session. This time a few of the voice cast will be at adjoining tables. This one's set to run 90 minutes. Hang in there!

And, yes, another panel, actually the grand premiere of the first episode of GRANITE RAPIDS in the BIG theater at 7:00 PM on Saturday. After the showing there'll be a panel Q&A and they want you to sit in on that. IF you agree and IF you feel up to it, there will be a 45-minute meet-the-public-and-autograph session at 8:00 in the adjoining room. Jan will take care of sales, but most of these will be fans with their own copies. The showing and autograph session will be repeated on Sunday at 11:00 AM through to 12:45 PM. Outside of these, your time's your own.

Your hotel reservation information is included in the packet. Two rooms, as requested, on the "quiet floor," where late-night parties aren't permitted. You have four vouchers for breakfast in the hotel each morning Friday-Sunday. No limit. Finally, there's a special Uber card that will let you catch a ride should you need one to, well, anywhere within reason. You're not supposed to tip the drivers. . . . .

(Two detailed pages omitted)

Sweetie, have lots of fun and enjoy being Stan Mason. Fair warning: Your picture will be out there, up on the Internet for all to see, which just might interfere with your anonymity. But, hey, it's time! The week after, and after you've recovered, give me a call and tell me all about it. I'm clearing my schedule for 4:00 and later on the Wednesday following the convention just for that!

Warmest wishes,

Bea

1-Flight of Fancy

By Tuesday, June 19th, everyone had more or less recovered from Stan's and Ford's birthday celebration, which took a totally unexpected turn because of an unexpected and certainly uninvited guest, but let's not worry about that right now. Mabel, Dipper, Wendy, and Teek were back working in the Shack that summer, just as they had for a good many years past—Wendy was, for the summer months at least, Manager, Dipper was Chief of Sales, Mabel was Assistant Manager and Guru of Planning, and Teek was Master Chef.

Don't blame me, Soos made up the job titles.

Anyway, even that early in the season business had become steady, so much so that on Tuesday afternoon Dipper asked, worriedly, "Guys, tell me the truth. Is it going to be OK for us to be away for so long?"

Stan, relaxing on the back porch, snorted. "Ha! What, you think you guys are indispensable or something? For two of the five days you're away, the Shack ain't even open. We'll take care of business. No sweat!"

On the sofa beside Stan, Soos chuckled. "Yeah, dawg! Me and Melody and Mr. Pines got it covered. The ladies will pitch in. Mrs. Pines will handle the cash register, Mrs. Dr. Pines will cover the register for the snack bar, Abuelita will cook. This is a big deal for you, Dipper. Anyhow, Gideon and Ulva help out a lot for four hours every day. Go and be, like, a famous author!"

"Anyways," Stan added as he stretched, "if you don't go, you're gonna owe your publisher like a couple thousand bucks for the plane tickets. Come on, it was nice of 'em to pony up so you guys could—ugh—fly first-class. Me, I hate flyin', but if I gotta do it, first class is the way to go! It's more comfortable, the food's better, and if you crash, you die first, so there's not as much time to worry."

"That's reassuring," Dipper said. True, Brangwen Books had unexpectedly been more than generous, arranging four first-class round-trip tickets from Portland to San Diego, via Coastal Connections Airline, a nice carrier. The four of them would take off tomorrow at two o'clock from PDX and land at SAN at 4:45. Jan Maryk, his editor at Brangwen, said she would meet them at the airport for the limo ride—limo ride!—to their hotel. According to her, she was dying to meet the young writer.

Dipper—wasn't so sure. This was a first. He'd never really appeared in public as his alter ego Stan Mason, writer of YA books set in an imaginary North California town that somehow was much like Gravity Falls, Oregon. Oh, he had answered fan letters forwarded to him by the publisher, and three times now he'd been interviewed, only once by Skype, twice just by Q&A emails, but never had he appeared before a group of people as the author of the series that now was a cartoon show.

The prospect didn't exactly scare him, but it certainly made him anxious. I couldn't have handled this even a year ago. But with my freshman year of college behind me—I can do this! Uh, probably. Possibly.

Shame to be so edgy on such a nice day—perfect summer weather, about 82 degrees, clear blue sky, light breeze from the west, the refreshing piney scent of the forest surrounding him. He was sitting on the edge of the family porch. Ahead of him was the familiar chopping block where, at the age of twelve, he had learned how to cut firewood. Well, not literally familiar—the stump that served as the block had been changed twice since then. Chopping blocks tended to bet mauled into shapelessness. But the replacement looked the same as the first one, it was in the same place, and the same axe was lodged in it.

"What are you so fascinated by?" Stan asked from behind him. "Firewood? Relax, you don't gotta chop any. That can wait until August, when Soos needs a good supply to get the Shack through the winter!"

"At least I'm able to chop it these days," Dipper said. "That first summer—"

"Noodle arms, I remember," Stan said with a grin. "But you kept at it, you learned, and you even got adequate. I'm semi-proud of you."

Dipper couldn't help returning his grunkle's grin. Coming from Stan, that was high praise.

Then he went back to musing. Jan Maryk he knew as words on his computer screen, a signature on his book contracts, and about twice a year a voice on the phone. He hoped she'd be as nice in person as she was long-distance. But what if he disappointed her? What if she said, "I didn't think you'd be so skinny!" or "Shave the goatee before you show up for the panels tomorrow." What then?

Because even now, he wasn't really sure if he was pulling off the goatee. It was discreet, not long and bushy, just a chin-beard with a small soul patch. Mabel had carefully shaped it and trimmed it, Wendy nodded and said, "Very mature, dude," and in bed she tickled his chin with her fingers and murmured, "I never kissed a guy with a beard."

"Your dad," he suggested. Manly Dan had an epic beard.

"Not the way I kiss you," Wendy teased.

"That's a relief!"

But looking at himself in the mirror, he didn't really see a manly young fellow. He saw a dork with a little beard.

However, Mabel, who had urged him to grow it because the one time before he'd grown a beard people had pegged him at three years older than he had been then. Of course, that was a full beard. Or at least whiskers that shaded his cheeks and chin, not a neatly trimmed, proper goatee.

Heck with it. He'd see what Jan's reaction was. If she thought he looked presentable enough, the plan was for the next book (Sleepover of Horror) to have his photo on the back jacket. So far, he'd been only a mysterious shadowed silhouette.

As his agent had said, it was time for Stan Mason to appear in public.

If only Dipper Pines didn't lose his nerve.