"So, tell me, Stanley." Ford paced in front of his twin, hands behind his back, bearing an unfortunate resemblance to their dad whenever he was p_ssed at Stan for something or other. "When you decided to gather a group of anomalies from the forest, take them to town in a stolen golf cart, and have them treat the people who live there like an interactive tourist attraction-"

He whirled around, and his voice rose to its loudest possible volume.

"-did you think at all about the possible CONSEQUENCES?!"

"...You make it sound so much worse than it was," Stan said after a second. "I'm pretty sure we got away before anyone saw us."

"That is not what I'm talking about, and you know it!" Ford strode to the television and turned it on. "Get a look at this!"

Stan squinted at the screen. "Help! My Mummy's a Werewolf?" He grimaced. "Eesh, the television here is terrible."

Ford made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and went to the armchair to dig around for the remote.

Eventually he found a repeat of the news broadcast he'd seen earlier that had alerted him to this whole mess in the first place.

"Downtown Gravity Falls was alarmed today by a freak breaking and entering at the Spark-N-Save electronics store, resulting in the destruction of several televisions and numerous items being stolen by unknown individuals."

The camera zoomed in on the shattered window.

"Strangely," said the reporter lady, "witnesses were unable to give a concise explanation for who or what was responsible."

The screen changed to an interview with a lady who Ford vaguely remembered was named Mrs. Cutebiker.

"There was nobody there, I tell you! The window smashed open all by itself! I don't know what happened, but I knew I had to git out-git outta there!"

Another interview was with a few teenagers who appeared to just be thrilled about being on television, and were milking the opportunity for all it was worth.

"It was a group of aliens! They flew down and vaporized the window so they could steal the electronics inside!"

It was remarkably close to the truth, Ford thought.

"Uh, dude," a friend of the one speaking whispered, "the window was smashed, not vaporized."

He turned and punched him in the arm. "Shut up, man, this is my big moment on television!"

"It's probably the Russians!" snapped the next interviewee, an old man in grimy overalls. "I'm tellin' you, those Ruskies have probably set up a secret base in that crazy new-fangled mall!"

The screen changed back to the reporter.

"Investigation is ongoing, according to local police."

In the background, a chubby black deputy with an afro tapped a meaty finger against the remains of the window, before jumping back with a screech.

"AAAAGH, it cut me! I'm bleeding to death! Man down! Man down!"

He collapsed to the ground, clutching his finger with his other hand and rocking back and forth in an extremely immature way.

The reporter visibly refrained from rolling her eyes.

"And now for the weather."

Ford switched off the television and gave Stan a pointed glare.

"...So things got a little out of hand," Stan admitted. "But the people around here are literally some of the dumbest in the world, they're probably not gonna figure out what really happened. And even if they do, what's the big deal? You're the one who's big on making the truth about anomalies known to the world. Isn't that what your grant money's for?"

Ford growled.

"Putting aside the fact that there are far less dangerous and irresponsible ways of introducing the supernatural to humanity, you are also teaching the supernatural bad habits! Breaking and entering, theft, damage, vandalism-"

"Ya mean like the gnomes and Steve were already doing long before we came here?" Stan asked challengingly.

"That's not-ugh!"

"Okay, I get it, I'll be more careful next time."

"NEXT TIME?!"

Ford tried unsuccessfully to forbid it.

Stan argued that a) it brought some extra money in, b) now that he'd learned about potential problems it would be easier to prepare for them, and c) it wasn't Ford's decision to make anyway.

Ford countered that it was his decision if Stan was being reckless enough that people were being put in danger.

Stan pointed out that nobody had actually been hurt in the incident, and that he shouldn't judge the tour when he hadn't even been on one.

...Which is why the next morning had Ford, sitting with arms folded like a sulky child, in the passenger seat of the golf cart next to Stan, as the second group of excited monsters, anomalies and cryptids drove into town.

*Evil Grin*

This is gonna be good.