He was out of the gift shop door before he could give a second remark to Yuki. The saddened employee, who had been walking towards the staircase with his arms laid with snacks, barely got out a small, "Stanley?". Grunkle Stan, only in his robe and boxers, marched at a furious pace along the side of the porch to the left and after the motel rooms. The first one, closest to him, held his target. A woman in her thirties who had seemingly cursed him.

He would certainly love to provide a curse or two back.

With his slippers scraping against the harsh wood below him, Grunkle Stan growled and bashed the door with his knuckles. A loud start inside told him he had either awakened her, or to his minute pleasure, frightened her.

A moment later, Arline Hirsh opened the door and squinted out, her eyes nearly closed and her hair a mess. She seemed to have been asleep, or resting.

She eyed Stanley, and groaned. "I already paid today. What do you want?" she asked as she sent a hand through her hair.

Stanley Pines would not be denied his justice. "Ohh, oh-ho-hooo," Grunkle Stan wiggled a finger in her face, "Don't try that innocent stuff with me, woman," he warned her, "I'm not in the mood for your 'I'm just here to help' crud!" he barked at her.

She blinked and studied him. "What are you talking about?" she demanded, "Or did you come to apologize?"

"Apologize!?" Stan demanded.

"For how you've been possibly the worst host I've ever met. How you've been treating Yuki. How all you care about-"

"Good lord, you're still on about that?" he sighed, and stretched his face with a hand. "I don't care about your stupid, heartfelt, goodie-two-shoes message, got it?" he informed her harshly. "What I do care about is that you take this stupid, un-thoughtful, literal mean-spirited curse off of me!"

Arline blinked again, and looked around. Her eyes peered into the woods and the corner her side of the building ended by, as if expecting something to be waiting nearby. Stan looked over his shoulder, just to double check. Neither saw anything. When she could not find such a thing, she focused back to Stan and shook her head.

"This is a prank, right?" she told him, "You're here, trying to prank me? I got you, you get me, huh?"

"If it was, I'd be even more convincing," Stan told her heatedly.

Arline rolled her eyes. "Hah, right. Well, goodnight, Stanley," she said and began to close the door.

"Wait!" he rushed forward, placing himself between the door and frame, "Wait! I'm not joking here!"

"You still haven't been clear with what you're 'not joking' about," she said with disinterest.

"You made ghosts haunt me!" Stan told her, "Three ghosts! Three ghosts of Summerween! And they're trying to teach me some stupid lesson or something!" Stan told her. Arline eye's widened. Her mighty force, crushing Stan slightly, let up and she let the door open. "Yeah, yeah! See? I'm not crazy!" Stan nodded with a wide smile, grateful maybe she would hear him out.

"Wow. That's totally believable," she said, and stepped forward, forcing Stan to back out from the doorframe. No sooner had he done so than she snorted. "Well, have a good night," she added, and then slammed the door inches from his face.

"W-What?! Arline! Hirsh!" he yelled, pounding on the door, "You can't do this to me!"

"Shh!" The head of another staying resident poked out and hissed at Stan.

"Hey, go 'shh' yourself! I'm being haunted here! This is a dire emergency!" Stan barked at the man, who snarled and slowly rescinded back into his motel room. Stan turned back to Arline's own room, and as he moved to her window, trying to peer past the curtains, the lights went out. "Hirsh! Don't do this to me! I don't do ghosts in my own home anymore!"

No reply was uttered back. No argument was given. Stan only saw the darkness behind the curtain and wondered what he could do to help himself. His best bet was to go into a chest he stored next to his gun cabinet and try finding one of those weirdo-burning spice sticks his brother once used.

As Stan turned around, he yelled. Someone had been right behind him.

"Hey mister Pines!"

"Soos!" Stan gasped, holding a hand to his heart, "oh, Soos. Call me senile, but I'm glad to see you. I'm being haunted!" he informed his trusted employee.

"Sure, you are," he nodded with a grin.

Stan's expression darkened. "Soos, I'm being serious here. Try not to let sarcasm get the best of you," Stan told him, as he put a heavy hand on Soos's shoulder, "Besides, it doesn't suit you."

"You bet it doesn't," Soos nodded, grinning, "That's why I was being totally serious. You are being haunted!"

Stan's hand was pulled away from his employee like an electrical currant had been run through it. He stared at his longtime friend and almost-able-to-call son. Soos was wearing his newest Luchador costume- red and golden with purple accents along the borders of his cape. The mask on Soos was tight, which was opposite to his belly, which hung out proudly.

Stan remembered that Soos had left hours ago. "Soos... you're not really here, are you?" Stan asked sadly.

"Nope!"

"You're not actually Soos, are you?"

"Not at all!"

"You're actually-"

"The ghost of Summerween present!" Soos declared, spinning around, letting the cape flutter majestically. "Here to haunt you and bring you up to speed with the best summer holiday! At least to me, it is," Soos admitted with a shrug.

After letting out a fairly impressive, albeit exhausted moan, Stan barked, "Okay, I order you to not haunt me," Stan pointed at him, "Or you're fired."

"That may work on the real Soos," The Ghost of Summerween Present told him, "But I'm just using the identity of Soos to communicate with you!"

"Okay, seriously? What's with that?" Stan said, glaring at the Soos-lookalike. "Shouldn't you be a costume or something? You're a ghost representing the spirit of Summerween, not the ghost of my, uh, accomplices," Stan admitted, rubbing his back. "You should be some ornament or something." He wasn't planning on admitting any attachment to those around him in the presence of such haunting beings.

Yet Soos laughed and waved a hand at Stan. "You may be able to fool your relatives and friends, and even yourself dude," Soos poked Stan's chest gently, "but I'm the ghost of the present! I'm up to date on everything."

"Joy," Stan groaned.

"I know, right?" Soos clapped a hand on Stan's shoulder. "But to answer your question, I am wearing a costume! The costume of Jesus Alzamirano Ramirez," The Ghost of Summerween Present explained.

Stan sighed and glared at the ghost. "So, what are you showing me now? The best sales? The new trending costumes for Summerween? Maybe now the monsters of town are in on it too?"

"They're starting to warm up to it," Soos shrugged, "Give it a few more years and they may join in on the fun too dawg."

"That's not what I wanted to hear," Stan grumbled as Soos laughed.

"C'mon dude," he said to Stan happily, grabbing his arm.

"W-wait! I don't want to fly again!" Stan barked.

"Why not dude?"

"B-because, uh, heights! I hate 'em!" Stan prompted, but Soos gave him a knowing look. Stan recited grumpily, "Right, up to date on everything..."

"Yup! I know you got over that years ago! But that mode of transport? Sooo the past. I'm the here and now!" Soos declared as he grabbed Stans hand and put it on his shoulder, "So hold on for a second, because the present is always here and now."

Stan felt another mystic compulsion to blink. When he did, he was in downtown Gravity Falls. Pulling his hand away from Soos, he spun and studied the surrounding shops and buildings. The last time he had been down here was a week ago, helping Zander Maximillion purchase items to re-build and, truthfully, upgrade the structure of the Mystery Manor. A lot had changed in a week.

The street lights, buzzing their timid hum of electrically powered bulbs, were covered in red and black streamers. Connecting all the lights together was a long tether of plastic bats, complete with glowing red eyes. On the ground by the ends of each street were collections of plastic, lit watermelons, glowing red with various faces carved out. People still traversed the streets sparsely, passing the decorations eagerly with shopping bags weighing heavily in their arms. As they walked past the two, Stan could make out the various decorations in the shops. The whole town was totally transformed just for a single night.

Stan took it all in, his mouth just barely falling open.

Soos chuckled. "So, is it what you expected?" The Ghost of Summerween Present asked.

"I, uh, of course!" Stan lied, coughing away at his uncertainty.

Soos chuckled, and patted his back. "Lying to me won't do you any good, Mister Pines," Soos told him.

"Then why even bother asking?" Stan asked, glaring at the apparition.

Soos admitted, "Cus it gives you a chance to be honest with yourself, you know? That's important, dawg."

"You know, you could just end this now and let me get my rest," Stan growled.

"Sorry Mister Pines," Soos shrugged, "Not until you learn a lesson you've forgotten."

"And that is?" Stan asked. Soos grinned, and poked the elders forehead. "Don't do that," Stan grumbled and rubbed the spot as he backed away.

"Dude, you need to remember that you're important to these people," Soos told him. Stan whipped around to face Soos. After a moment of staring, he then burst out laughing, slapping his knee.

"Good one – me, not thinking I'm important," Stan shook his head as he wiped away a tear.

"Mister Pines, you've been worried since they came back to town they'd out grow you," Soos told him. Stan's smile trembled. Soos, or the spirit shaped like Soos, added, "The twins getting older and less dependent is something that's scared you. And with them single handedly saving the town a month ago, now you think the proofs before you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Stan turned away, rubbing his arms as he watched Toby Determined prance down the street, eating candy by the handful.

"Dude, Mister Pines," Soos walked next to him, a worried look genuinely given, "It's making you kinda harsh on Yuki-"

Stan barked back in a riposte, "He needs to learn the reality of living with humans."

"And Arline?" Soos added.

"She's-"

"Helped the twins and the mystery shack a ton of times," Soos crossed his arms and looked him in the eyes. Stan grumbled and again looked away. Soos chuckled, "You can't deny she's helped them, not to me dude."

"I'll deny whatever the heck I wanna," Stan bit back. As he stared away, his eyes focused on a girl with purple, black and red, with waist length blond hair. "Is that the Northwest brat?" he asked. Soos stepped next to him and nodded.

"Pacifica, yup," he nodded. The teenager stood on the sidewalk with her arms crossed, tapping a foot outside a costume shop. She rolled her eyes and sighed as she stood still, glancing occasionally at passers by. Her face was pink, and she seemed cross.

"Hah, see?" Stan pointed to her, "Not everyone's a fan of the holiday."

"You sure about that, Mister Pines?" Soos asked with a grin. He pointed back to Pacifica, and Stan watched.

Zander Maximillion stepped out, a large bag tethered around his arm. "Thank you! We really appreciate your work!" he called into the shop as he closed the door. On his head was a large, wide brimmed red hat that looked like it belonged on some gothic vampire hunter. He turned to Pacifica, staring down at her with a knowing half-grin. She huffed and looked away. Zander said, ever a voice filled with kindness, "They were more than happy to work with you if you treated them nicely, you know."

Pacifica glumly reiterated, "You mean work with you," glaring at her nails.

"Pacifica, shouting at them about not having your exact idea in mind for a costume wasn't a good idea to begin negotiations," Zander told her as he ruffled through the bag.

She spun around and sighed. "Well, if they had made it sound like my idea wasn't stupid to begin with – I mean, being a sexy werewolf secretary isn't such a crazy idea. It was in She-Wolf, after all," Pacifica pouted.

Zander chuckled, and lifted something from the bag, and gently tossed it into her crossed arms. "That should help," he told her. Pacifica lifted it to her gaze, and found herself looking at a large professional cosmetic kit for werewolves. Her eyes took in the sight, and looked up Zander, who was eager to continue. He said aloud, "With that out of the way, next up is-"

"Wait." Pacifica called. Zander paused, turning to her. "Uh, thanks," Pacifica mumbled as she glanced from the kit to Zander.

He shrugged. "You already paid for it. Should have held your temper when they laughed at your idea. Maybe they liked it instead of thinking it was stupid?" he asked her.

Pacifica shrugged. "I'm just... still upset," she admitted.

Zander nodded and put a hand to her shoulder. "Your parents will come to their senses... maybe," Zander added with a gaze to the hill over trees in the distance. "So, you'll just chill with me and set up tomorrows party in the meantime."

"What happened to her?" Stan asked Soos.

The ghost shook his head slowly. "After helping the twins last week, her parents decided to take way all her household privileges," Soos explained, "So she ran off to Zander. He's been more than a help to her recently," he added with a grin to the former rock star.

Stan snorted. "Hah. She could use the break from riches anyway."

"And be homeless?" Soos asked.

"Heh. A little homelessness helps build character," Stan shrugged.

Soos chuckled. "But don't you see? Mister Pines, this holiday brings people together. Rather than letting Pacifica think she gets a free ride, Zander is using the guise of having her be party manager to have her stay with him for a bit. People are happy and excited, shops are ready to open and celebrate with the town," Soos rambled, waving his arms around as Zander and Pacifica walked past, lightly changing ideas.

Stan stuffed his hands into his robe's pockets. "Yeah, yeah, big help I've been-"

A shrill, hyper excited and twangy voice called out, "Well, howdy-diddly doo, folks!"

The color to Stan's face dropped into a light grey as he turned and found Zander and Pacifica stopped by a skinny, old man with almost no teeth remaining in his mouth.

"Get lost, McGucket," Pacifica told him. Zander swatted her back, and she winced. "Ow! I mean... ugh, hope you're enjoying pre-Summerween."

"Enjoying? I revel in it! Hyuck-hyuck!" Fiddleford 'Old Man' McGucket replied enthusiastically, presenting the two of them with a small jig.

"You aren't kidding, are you?" Zander asked with a smile, "You know, Pacifica and I are holding a party at my house tomorrow evening. Do you have a costume?" he asked McGucket, who gasped.

"You mean I'm bein' officimacatedly invited to some fancy ball-party thing?" he asked.

"Uhh-" Pacifica started, but Zander quickly replied.

"As long as you have a costume, you can come," he told the old man.

McGucket clapped his hands as he hopped in place. "That sounds dang-tootin' fun! I'll be comin' in costume all right! Woohoo!" and without another word to the two, the old man rushed past them, skipping on his way.

"McGucket's gross and smelly," Pacifica told Zander bitterly, "Why are we inviting him?"

"Hm, reasons. Okay, one, because being gross is what half the costumes are like. Two, being smelly won't matter in a party with droves of candy. And, finally, most importantly, he's got spirit in droves," Zander told her strongly. "And that's exactly what this holiday is about. Spirit. Or, at least spirits. Get it? Spirits?" Zander chuckled. Pacifica glared at him as she did to those she threatened to sue. Zander dropped his own grin and shrugged. "Fine. To my car," Zander sighed and pointed at ahead as Pacifica shook her head in embarrassment.

"See, Mister Pines?" Soos asked as Stan watched McGucket hobble away, "Even McGucket is happy for this holiday.

"The only reason he is what he is... is because of me," Stan told Soos. "Had I just-"

"Dude, you're thinking about the negative of the past. What about the positive of the now? A whole town is happy because of what you've created," The Ghost of Summerween Present explained. "You brought a holiday that people wanted, badly – and they didn't even know it dawg."

"And I've ruined lives for it," Stan rebutted.

Soos sighed. "Touch my shoulder, dude," Soos told him.

Stan raised his eyes from the ground and eyed the ghost. With a resigned sigh, he did as asked. There would be no fighting these ghosts; if they wanted to show him something, they were going to.

The moment Stan's hand was lifted from Soos' shoulder, the scenery instantly changed. It was a private space; closed off from the world by wooden planks and a large window on the opposite end of the room. As Stan rubbed his eyes to ensure he knew where he was, a figure walked through him. He gasped and held a hand to his body, uncertain how to take the idea that people could still pass through him like shadow. He was looking into the twins attic room.

Mabel said, as she approached her bed. "I think Grunkle Stan is asleep."

"Yeah, probably," Dipper replied, lying on his back on his own bed. Yuki sat on the edge of Dipper's bed, hands on his lap as he scratched his head.

"But anyway, Summerween," Mabel sat down on her, directly facing Yuki, "It's not really about scaring people for their lives – it's about the fun."

"You must explain the concept of terror equaling fun," Yuki said to her as he crossed his fingers together and listened.

Mabel gave the request a thought. "Well, when humans get scared, we freak out for bit. But when it's something that isn't actually dangerous, we laugh at it, because it was just a joke," Mabel tried.

"But then the moment of terror is the payment for enjoyment?" Yuki asked.

Mabel gave his own take on it a moment of thought, and then shrugged. "Ah, yeah? Sorta? Dipper-" she called to her quiet brother, "Help me out here."

"You're doing fine," Dipper said in a dreary tone.

"Pfft, help a sis out, Dipping-sauce," Mabel requested.

Dipper sighed, and looked to Yuki. "Endorphins are released in human bodies after being scared. We like them. We're happier when we're not actually in danger. Boom, done," Dipper leaned back.

Yuki blinked, and nodded. "I suppose that does make some sense," he said as he scratched his scalp and rubbed his leaves. "I am excited, just... I must experience it for myself, I suppose."

"Ugh, you guys talk so boringly," Mabel groaned as she put her cheek in her hands.

Stan stared at Dipper, eyeing the teenager. He saw the deep shadows under the kids eyes. Stan muttered to Soos, "He's really down, isn't he?"

"Yup," Soos nodded, "And you're still worried about him, and Wendy." Stan jolted and whipped to Soos, scowling at him. Soos shrugged. "I'm up to date on-"

"Everything, yeah, yeah, I got it," Stan answered for him.

"Maybe you should help Dipper out on this one?" Soos suggested. Stan shook his head. "Why not, Mister Pines?" the Spirit like Soos asked.

Stan scratched his jaw, putting to words what his feelings had told him for weeks. "He wouldn't hear it, anyway. And it's not my place to help Dipper figure this one out," Stan told Soos, "Neither is it my place to go spilling Wendy's secrets for her."

Mabel spoke up, drawing the attention of the two spectators. "So, what's the deal with Grunkle Stan, Dipper? Is he having one of those 'man-o-pause' things?" she asked. Dipper lifted himself onto his elbows and stared at her. Mabel chuckled, "What?"

"I think he's passed that stage in his life," Dipper shook his head. "I have no idea why he's being such a jerk these days."

Stan closed his eyes. That stung a little more than he would have liked it to. He glared at Soos. "Okay, I get it. We can go now. I'm annoying the twins."

"Not yet, Mister Pines," Soos told him.

"He is, uh, rather difficult at times," Yuki replied.

"What?" Mabel gasped.

Yuki flinched. "Did- did I say something out of line?" Yuki gently requested, looking between the twins.

"No, more like you're not being harsh enough," Dipper explained as he moved over and sat next to the alien, "You of all people deserve to rat out Stan."

"Yeah!" Mabel shouted, "What's the deal with him not giving you a day off tomorrow?" Mabel crossed her arms together, "What a jerk-nosed-porcupine butt."

Stan rolled his eyes, "Oh, I'm so insulted."

"He has been a jerk. Not just to you, but to Arline as well," Dipper prompted. "Can't look at her without trying to start a fight." Stan opened his mouth, ready to argue that point. Yet his memory served against him, and he went quiet as his cheeks felt hot.

"It's not like she ever did anything against him. Ever," Mabel added.

"And he still tries bossing us around," Dipper grumbled.

Stan felt the weight of their words infect him. It was one thing to hear the comments of the past repeated, but these were his grand kids, probably less than a hundred feet away from his bedroom, tearing into him like he was rotting rags. The combination of their sincerity and their conviction ate at his heart, and Stan found it harder to handle the insults as they continued. He turned to Soos, feeling older and more worn by the second.

"So that's why I'm here?" Stan asked Soos, his tired eyes heavy with sadness, "Yo break an old man from his family?"

"Not exactly," Soos nodded back to the twins, and Stan turned to watch.

"Please," Yuki interrupted a long-winded rant by Mabel about Stan's many faults, "Can we not 'bash' your grand uncle with such negativity?"

"What?" Mabel asked.

"Yuki, dude, you need to vent," Dipper told him.

The alien shook his head and looked to them both. "I cannot hold such things against Stanley. He has lived a long, human life. He has learned many things that only he will remember, and been to many places he will only see. These experiences have taught him, have molded him. Who am I to judge his word when he has a different life of experiences than I?" Yuki inquired to the twins. Dipper was agape, and looked around, collecting his thoughts.

Yet, Mabel quickly spoke. "You can get up all in his face when he's being rude. Doesn't matter if he's been to mount Rushmore or whatever, he should still be nice to you!"

"Especially you," Dipper added, "You may have started the whole Animus thing, but you also solved it with us. He tends to forget that last bit," Dipper reminded him.

"Maybe. Even so," Yuki stayed firm in words, "I am obligated to trust his word. I trust that he will come to see me as a friend and trust me in a new light."

"What if he doens't?" Dipper quickly asked.

Yuki seemed shaken by this aspect as he looked between the twins. Yuki looked out to the window, and smiled. "Humans change. They are adaptive creatures when they are pressed to do so," Yuki said. He nervously looked between the twins, "They only stagnate when they are too comfortable."

"Then make him uncomfortable," Mabel leaned forward to Yuki, "So he'll change for you." Dipper too looked to Yuki, who was mildly trembling. Stan also watched, and felt a new gut reaction to the scene other than pain. Guilt.

"I, uh, no," Yuki placed a smile on his face, "I trust your grand uncle to be able to make the correct call when he sees fit to. He has made a long life doing so, and I believe he can continue to do thusly."

"Man, he's got some mad faith in you," Soos told Stan.

The old man said nothing, instead watching as Yuki tried to re-direct the twins to explain more about Summerween and Halloween traditions. It was strange to watch someone act candidly, unaware of his presence as he eavesdropped on their every word. Yuki really didn't speak badly of him. Even when provoked and asked to, he held his tongue. Was it fear that made him do so? Or respect? Stan wasn't sure he could tell the difference. It made him think of someone else he once remembered sticking up for, who was also a big egghead.

Stan suddenly felt the reason he was always so harsh on Yuki. The alien was too similar to him, to Ford.

"I don't want to be here anymore," Stan turned to Soos.

Soos grinned, and put a hand to his shoulder. "Mister Pines, you need to remember that people trust you. It's the same with me – well, with Soos," The Ghost of Summerween Past told him, "He trusts you with his life like a father."

"Well, he shouldn't," Stan told him angrily, "None of them should. I'm selfish. I'm irresponsible! I'm a– I'm a mean, old, money-driven man!"

"Mister Pines, you can keep telling yourself that, but we both know your guise is running short," Soos said. Then he swayed and put his hand against the door behind him and caught himself. Regardless of the thing before him being really Soos or not, stan rushed forward and checked Soos. "See?" Soos asked as he caught his breath, his eyes distant, "You do care, dawg."

Stan carefully observed Soos. "What's going on? You look pale."

"Times up, dude," Soos shrugged, "The past never is here for long, you know? It's there and then- boom!" Soos clapped his hands together and then coughed, "Ahh, it's already in the past."

"Wait, that's... that's all?" Stan asked the Soos look-alike. "You're just... fading out?"

Soos smiled as the truth was revealed. His entire being was slowly fading from existence like running paint from a watered masterpiece. His color faded first, and then his body became less and less physical as he stared at Stan with a happy, tired grin.

"Stanley Pines," Soos said with a flip of his grin, frowning as he pointed to his 'haunting victim', "Beware the child of the future if you don't nourish it," he warned, his voice entirely echoing like a church bell ringing a morbid call.

"Wh-what are you saying?" Stan asked as Soos slumped to the ground, almost entirely gone.

"Feed the future with the good of the present, or else... the future takes what it can... to feed... it's own... present..."

The Ghost of the present was gone, and Stan blinked.

He was back in bed again. Had he ever left to pester Arline? He looked at the door, wondering what was to come. The future? The ghost representing this grim, dark, dangerous, 'hungry' future that loomed over Stan's head like a cloud of death? Stan cracked his neck, and bared his teeth. He had looked into the face of death before. He could do it again.

"Alright, you spectral conman," Stan told his door as he sat in bed, "Show me your worst! The future isn't as bad as you guys make it out to be, because as long as we stick out the storm-"

The side of Stan's vision went dark. A figure glided past him in a long, entirely black hooded cloak. Stan leapt out of the covers and scrambled to the other side of the room, examining the approaching, silent figure. No face could be seen under the ragged hood with a top point. Arms were stock still at its side. It approached Stan like the wind itself guided its movement. The specter was just as scary as death itself; moving to be mere inches next to Stan. He gulped as he looked over the figure. No footfalls, no shaky breath, nothing. Perhaps he couldn't yet hear the future, and so it was, to him, silent.

This time, with this spirit, Stan felt fear. "So... I guess Soos – err, Ghost of the Present or whatever wasn't kidding," Stan nodded as he stared into the blackness of the face, "You're, uh... frightening. Mildly scary. But only mildly!" Stan reminded him with an insistent point to it's face.

The specter said nothing. It made no acknowledgement to Stan's attempts at bravery. Cold sweat formed under his arms and his neck as he stared into the face of the future. Finally, it backed away, and Stan gasped.

He was back in Gravity Falls.

War torn Gravity Falls.

Buildings had crumbled and streets were torn up. Glass in windows were only shards of what once was, but no whole panels could be seen. Fires burned in the distance by the scrap yard, and as Stan turned around fully, he saw the state of the woods.

Trees moved on their own accord, lifting themselves up and moving about like giant monsters with animated roots. The clouds struck constantly with lightning, red and deep violet against the mountains, which seemed to flux with gravity on and off. Stan spotted the Northwest Mansion on the hill, where fire and bursts of light emanated out to him from the distance.

"What... what has happened here?" Stan asked the specter, his hands numb and his arms loose at his sides as he stood agape at the mess around him.

A roar and scattering of feet turned Stan around. A large cluster of Goblins, armed with their small muskets, turned and fired into an alleyway. A large tree pulled its way out, using branches and roots to pull itself closer to the fleeing goblins. Yet the damage it had taken from gunfire and, by the looks of it, axes digging into its bark, had made it a lumbering beast drawing to its death. It fell with a crash as the goblins leapt aside, letting the animated tree collapse into the nearby insurance building. No sooner had the Goblins defeated the beast than they collected themselves into a group and ran across the street again, loading their rifles.

"They're in the town? With movable trees?" Stan gasped as he realized what he had just encountered. "What the heck happened!?" Stan demanded of the spirit.

It made not reply, but merely floated away, and then pointed towards the mansion.

Stan breathed heavily as he took in all the carnage and destruction around him, and looked back up to the sky. There was no sight of blue in the swirling clouds of black and grey, crackling with power.

Stan followed the spirit out of town, and into the woods. There, the scene he happened upon was the same – an animal or species that no one knew about, other than him and the twins, was fighting someone, or something else. People battled against goblins, trees against crystal monsters, werewolves chasing after jeeps with screaming people trying to escape their fate.

Chaos had come to Gravity Falls, and Stan could only ask one thing to the ghost repeatedly: "How did this happen?"

Yet the spirit said nothing.

Stan's mind raced. "We locked away Cipher. He's gone," Stan told the spirit as he walked with him through the woods, over bodies of fallen men and monster, "He's the only being with this much ability to cause havoc. And unless that portal is activated-"

The spirit spun around, the empty face looking to Stan.

Stan blinked and stepped back. "You – wait, the portal is re-opened?" he asked. The spirit then turned away, continuing it's path. "W-wait! So the portal is opened again!? By who? Who did this all? Someone working for Cipher?"

The spirit turned half way. It pointed, indicating a hill for him to climb.

Stan stepped next to him and craned his head and shielded his eyes from the bursts of light above them. This was the hill that would lead to the Northwest Mansion. As his eyes trained themselves to focus on the terrain he had to climb, he realized the uneven terrain wasn't from roots and rocks so commonly found in the woods.

The lumpiness along the hill, with a crack of lightning illuminating the ground, showed bodies. There were hundreds of corpses laying on the ground before him.

Stan put a hand to his mouth, and turned back to the still looming spirit. He dared not look to such wanton death. "Why?! How!?" he demanded. "How did anything get this bad?!"

The spirit bowed it's head, but let its hand, a single finger resembling that of a human, point outwards.

There was nothing to gain from expecting a straight answer. Stan mustered his strength and trudged upwards, stepping over the bodies of countless soldiers and monsters. Many of the human casualties wore camouflage and even wore protective gear with high-quality weaponry. Some neat guns Stan wondered about their price were thrown around, even broken in half. But as he got higher and higher, stepping over monsters that Stan swore looked a lot like dragons, he started to see the civilians of Gravity Falls.

Many faces he knew lay dead in the dirt, looking around the forest with terror stricken into their eyes as he were taken, in many cases by sharp claws and horrible burns along their body. It was a war that took no prisoner, and Stan had to wade through it all. Finally, he met the clearing, and stepped out into the light of the lightning above.

"Fire!"

A giant tree next to him had started slithering forward when a trio of flaming bottles rained down next to the creature. Shattering and drenching the beast in flammable liquid, the tree shrieked and whined through its bark. It spun and swayed, finally falling from its height a few long moments after being bathed in fire. Yet Stan never looked to the burning wreck next to him. It was at the gates and walls of the Mansion, and specifically who had commanded the attack.

It was Mabel.

"Sweety!" Stan rushed forward, hopeful beyond all measure she was still alive. Over countless more bodies he rushed, and he leapt through the splintered and re-forged gate as easily as wind through hair. On the other side, he was met with a new image.

Countless soldiers and residents of the town were gathered around campfires and crates, all of which were stored in the front yard of the very beaten up and broken down mansion. Soldiers rested by windows, their powerful rifles scanning the forest around them. Stan saw a few survivors he knew amidst the crowds, but not nearly enough. The Ghost of Summerween Future floated next to him, and he jumped.

"So, there are survivors," Stan said with a rattling voice, turning to the spirit, who did not look to him, "That means they're resisting whatever is going on around here, right?" he asked the ghost. "They're able to hold off the waves. Which means there's hope, right?" Stan asked again.

The spirit turned, and pointed its finger to a crudely built staircase. Mabel Pines stepped down with none other than Pacifica Northwest, both looking tired and worn to heck. If Dipper's eyes had tired sacks under his eyes, the two ladies had a dark ocean resting under their red-shot gaze.

Pacifica was talking. "There will be more. That was just a scout," Pacifica told a soldier she passed, one waiting by the end of the stairs. She handed to the soldier some sort of machine gun, and walked with Mabel. Instead of her typical grappling hook, Mabel wielded a large pistol in her hand. That light in her eyes, those deep brown eyes which always resonated with energy, had become cold and sad like steel.

"Girls," a small, big-lipped man with a bloodied rag over his eye came rushing over, "I needed to speak with you."

"Sure Toby," Pacifica said for Mabel, who turned and stared at the man.

"Uh... so," the awkwardly built man looked around before leaning in, "The rations the solider guys provided? We're running low of them."

Pacifica growled and shook her head as Mabel nodded. "Thanks, Toby," Mabel told him, "That's news I did need to hear."

Toby nervously added, "I don't think we should let anyone else know about it for now-"

"She said thank you!" Pacifica snapped at him, and Toby almost fell back, "Now get lost!" Pacifica shouted as she clenched her fists. Toby nodded and trotted away sourly, wobbling on one injured leg. Taking a moment to breath, Pacifica turned to the other lady. "Mabel," Pacifica put a hand on her accomplice's shoulder, "We should consider the mansion's underground exit."

"Once the other monster's figure that out, they'll swarm inside," Mabel told her.

"What else can we do?" Pacifica asked her, "Wait here? Use up everything first?" Mabel sighed. Pacifica seemed unhappy with the comment. "Unlike you, I'm not waiting on the end to come and get-"

Mabel's head snapped to glare directly into Pacifica. The blonds icy cold gaze melted as she quickly shrunk. Mabel, with a voice that almost sounded like it was Grunkle Stan's, told her, "Thank you, Pacifica. Go check on the sergeant now."

Pacifica made no nod or shrug, but quickly walked past Mabel.

Stan finally had the chance to look at his grandniece fully. She had a long scratch over her nose that cut from one cheek to the other. Half of her hair seemed to have been burned away, as the front of her scalp was pink and burnt. She looked thin and worn out, and her eyes were just as empty as her voice. She glanced around, even passing her gaze right over Stan, who gasped and walked closer.

"Oh, sweetheart, Mabel," Stan said as he stumbled closer. No sooner had he reached out to touch her than she had stepped forward. Away from the eyes of others she walked, and Stan followed. She had entered a garden path, now entirely devoid of a proper garden. Roots and torn earth were scattered all around, with exception of several stones that lay in the ground directly in front of Mabel. She leaned down and sighed.

"Well guys," she said to the stones, "It's getting bad. I'm... I'm trying to be strong," she said as tears began to fall from her face, "But people want someone I'm not. I... I don't know how to make miracles," she said to the stones. Stan watched her weep, but his concern grew greatly as she lifted one of the stones. "Dipper, what would you do?"

"Wh-what?" Stan gasped.

"You always had something stupidly geeky and smart to get us out of these things... and I'd just jump out a window because it was fun. But," Mabel sobbed as she dropped the stone back to its spot, next to three other stones, "I need to command. They need a leader. How do I do that?"

"Mabel," Stan tried, aware he could not touch her. He was desperate to ease her.

A rumble along the ground stirred the girl before Stan, and she spun around, her eyes sharp and cold once more. She rushed through Stan, and he turned, watching her go as loud gunfire began to rumbled through the air.

"They're here!" someone shouted.

Stan didn't hear the soldier scream. He only saw Mabel pass through the cloaked Ghost and vanish out of sight. Stan marched over to the spirit, and pointed behind him. "What's with those stones?" he demanded. The spirit said nothing. "Tell me!" Stan shouted. "Why is she acting like Dipper's not around!? Dipper's a thinker and a nerd, but he's tougher than... than..." Stan reached out to grasp the Ghost, and found the fabric cold and uncompromisingly course, "Show me where Dipper is!"

The explosions and combat happening around Stan diminished. The world around him warped and darkened for a moment. When Stan let go of the phantom, he was deep in the woods, far away from the Northwest Mansion. He knew these woods too well. These were the woods he woke up to every day and made a small fortune to every evening. Stan turned around and gasped.

He was looking right at the Mystery Manor: totally in ruins.

The roof had caved in and the windows had shattered. Cracks in the earth surrounding the building told Stan that whatever had happened here came from under the earth... where he knew a certain undisturbed portal remained.

Stan turned back to the spirit. "What happened here? Someone got to the portal? Why? What did they do!?"

The spirit lifted its arm again and pointed behind Stan with a finger. Rotating back around, Stan saw the direction the spirit pointed to. There was a round of earth nearby the corners of the building. Stan blinked. His mind begged him not to look any closer, his heart ached he would just wake up and leave this troubling dream in the past. His feet, on the other hand, pushed him closer, step by step.

Rounding the corner, his eyes fell onto the first of three graves. Stan fell to his knees as he read the first name.

Soos.

"No," Stan shuffled closer, dragging his knees against the dirt as he pulled himself closer, "No! Soos, you're not supposed to die for me! Not really!" Stan shouted at the grave. "I'd take one for you over... over this! I'd take twenty bullets! You still have so much to learn... so much to care for..."

The spirit drifted over, and pointed to the next grave. Stan would not lift his head. He didn't want to see any further. This was the end of his ability to suffer and see others die for his future. Yet the cold behind him beckoned silently. Stan lifted his eyes and turned them to the right, and instantly he felt all the air rush out of his lungs as he bellowed.

Dipper.

"No! No! No!" Stan shook his head as struck the mound of dirt before him. "This isn't what– not your– never you!" Stan roared as he felt his throat tear and struggle to keep in pace with the pain in his chest. "He was never supposed to go before me," Stan said, looking up the specter, "Outlive me, outsmart me, out-tough me. He was going to be the best kid I had ever seen... and this? This can't be what happens, I-"

The Ghost of Summerween Yet to Come pointed again to the right. Numb to the world he watched, Stan looked over quickly.

He hadn't been wrong- he wouldn't outlive Dipper.

Stan.

His name rested on the third plank of wood stuffed into the dirt. Stan barely processed the name as anything other than symbols on wood. It was just a surreal dream made by an angry martial artist. Yet Stan could feel the truth of what he saw. Somehow, this wasn't just a dream; it was a vision of what could be. He spun around, still on his knees.

"Tell me this is all just to scare me," Stan begged it, which peered down at him, "Tell me that I'm just being scared to be a better person – that if I don't change, this still wouldn't happen. I'll do it, but I can't believe that this, any of this, is actually possible!"

A loud shout behind Stan called him to his feet. A figure rushed out from the brush, red hair flipping behind her as she ran. Torn and ragged clothing, and missing a hat, the woman was regardless noticed and recognized by Stan.

"Wendy!" Stan shouted.

From behind her, a figure jumped high into the air and crashed down onto of her, jumping nearly a hundred feet in a single leap. As Wendy crashed to the dirt with a ground-shaking thud, she gasped and screamed, clawing at the dirt in front of her to get away from...

Stan gasped as he saw who stood atop her, pushing a bone-crushing step into her back.

"You have run from myself and my partner for too long, Wendy," Uki-Dohth said, a deathly fire in his eyes. "Isn't that right?" he called over his shoulder as another person stepped out of the foliage, stretching his fingers.

The Warlock, Graupner Kinley, stepped out with a cruel grin. "Indeed. What do you have to say for yourself, huh?" Graupner asked Wendy as he stepped in front of her. She screamed. It wasn't fear, per say, that Stan heard. It was feral. She reached out to his feet, desperate to claw at him in anyway.

Graupner Kinley laughed. "See, Dohth?" Graupner told his comrade, and then stomped hard onto Wendy's fingers. She screamed as the Warlock continued, "The power of the mind. Without it, humans are just wild animals."

This dark reflection of Yuki calmly reminded him, "Her condition is a liability. While she may be feral, I believe we ought not let her leave again."

"I agree," the warlock said. He took a long, pleasant sigh, and clicked his tongue, "Gosh, having that curse lifted is more than nice," he then looked down to Wendy, and squatted before her, "More than could be said about you, huh? Can you even say a thing now? Aside from-"

Wendy snarled and shrieked at him. The Warlock nodded and snapped his hand out, grasping her jaw and turning it to the shack.

"Now, watch, Corduroy," The Warlock said, as with his free hand he snapped his fingers, and shimmering, green flames combusted into existence by his palm, "As I take away your last, true, pure memory. Say goodbye to the shed-"

"Shack," Yuki corrected him.

The warlock eyed Yuki. "Whatever," the Warlock rolled his eyes, and lazily tossed the ball of flame at the building.

Stan gasped and reached out, trying to catch the fire, but it passed right through his hand. Hitting the wall of the building, the green flames spread out quickly and soon, the entire remains were emitting violet burning embers. Wendy screamed and shrieked as she was forced to watch, and Stan turned his attention to her.

"Let go of her Yuki!" Stan demanded, rushing over to the Alien. Yuki made no register of hearing him, only watching the flames grow higher. "You!" he pointed to the Warlock, "Let go of her!"

"Now, let's end this game of yours, Wendy, huh?" Graupner said to Wendy. Instead of green, a ball of black flame appeared in his hand. Stan gasped and dived forward, desperate to knock him away. He passed through them all and landed roughly in the dirt.

Stan roared, "No! Let her-"

Screams and crackling fire were all that he heard behind him, and Stan could not turn around.

A few moments passed. The voice of the Warlock said aloud, "And so, one less problem to deal with. Dohth, we should keep moving."

"We shall. Let me take my last gaze upon the ruins, and I shall catch up to you," Yuki's voice commanded Stan to turn and walk away, towards the spirit. The cold, heartless spirit who had brought him all this horror. As he stared into the hood, not much taller than he was, he heard the footsteps of someone passing by him.

Yuki had stepped to the graves, as the green fire spread to the rest of the building, consuming it all. His purple eyes blazed as terribly as he glared down to the earth.

"Soos... you were kind to me. Misguided and foolish, but I cannot look down on such spirit, even when inhabited by an inferior species. I have since learned of your human short-sightedness, and I forgive you. Your heart was not a bad one," Yuki told the grave, and then looked to Dipper's. His lip curled.

"No. You were always wrong. Humans can learn? They just need a push? Indeed. They seem to need to push others. Your human race is all savage underneath this guise of clothing and caring. Graupner, even flawed as you were in his hubris, still has a better grasp on the reality of being human. A reality I," Yuki snarled at the earth, "Will perfectly adapt to."

Then his gaze turned to Stans, and as the building fell to the earth, he laughed.

"Here it is, Stanley. The last memory of you, and the second to last of your kind. Now," Yuki reached down and plucked all three planks of wood deeply buried into the dirt out with little strain, "Here is what will remain of you." Yuki flicked the wooden planks into the fire. "Nothing but ash and dirt."

As Stan watched this horrible version of Yuki march away, he gasped and held his chest.

"I can't take this!" he declared, and grasped the robes of the Ghost again, "take me back! I don't want this future! Anything you can do to take me back, I'll take it! I promise I'll change! I can't have this happen to these people! Yuki, the twins, Soos, Wendy- all of them deserve a better future than this! I don't want them hurt so badly! Take me back!" he shouted his loudest, "I have to change this from happening! I'll remember the spirit of Summerween! TO USE IT FOR GOOD AND-"

A hand reached out and put itself on Stan's shoulder. When he looked over to the hand, Stan counter six fingers.

Then the robes fell atop him, collapsing on him like an avalanche of rough cloth. Stan gasped and shouted, desperate to untangle himself from the ethereal shackles now tied around him. A moment later, he tossed his blankets to the floor off his bed.

Stan gasped. There was light pouring in through the window. Birds were chirping. People were chatting animatedly in the gift shop less than fifty feet away. There was a voice out there he recognized. Stan could hear Soos; good hearted, wonderful Soos, talking with customers.

Stan gasped and laughed. He laughed again. The terror was over. He was free. Free to do exactly what he had promised those spirits! Grabbing his glasses, he leapt out of bed, slid on the floor, and landed on his rear with a painful smack. His glasses flew off his head, and one of the lenses cracked on the floor.

"Gah! Whatever!" Stan declared as he reached over and put them back on. His vision? Not perfect, but the day was! It was Summerween! And the future had not yet come to pass!

Stan leapt to his feet, wrapping his own robe around his body as he wrenched open the door and flew past the twins, descending down the stairs sleepily. As they gasped, calling after Stan, he slid into the room with Soos. who spun and gasped.

"Mister Pines, you need more than a robe to-" Soos started. Stan cried aloud, and reached around Soos, embracing him in a large hug. "Uh... well, I guess you don't need a robe for that, do you?" Soos chuckled as his eyes started to water.

"Heck no, you don't!" Stan declared, and he whipped around. Customers were looking at him worriedly. He was without a real shirt- only in his boxers and wife-beater with his robe. Yet he grinned and tossed his arms into the air, completely oblivious to the stares directed at him.

"For one day only – all items in the shop are half off!" he roared. The crowd gasped and applauded, leaving Stan to cheer loudly.

Soos gasped, and spun him around. "Mister Pines, you always told me to do this in case this happens, but what's your brother's name?" Soos asked, looking at his boss dead in the eyes.

"Stanford! I miss the old dork!"

Soos gasped and stepped back. "Unless you've been replaced by a super-cheerful and super-memory stealing clone, it's really you! But mister Pines, what's with the deals?" he asked as people began to grab items from all over the shop, and bring them to the counter.

"Soos! It's Summerween! We need to celebrate the fullest of life! That's what it was always about, after all! Get scared, and realize that everything can be okay still!" he roared. Out of the corner of his eye, Stan spotted the twins. Their mouths had fallen out completely as they stared at him. Yuki was behind them as well, shocked and concerned. "And you two!" he pointed and rushed at the twins. Mabel squeaked and rushed behind Dipper.

Stan targeted the boy first. Grabbing him into a neck hold and giving a heck of a noogie Dipper wouldn't soon forget, Stan laughed and cackled his loudest he had in a long, long time. Dipper grunted and groaned. "Let go of me, Grunkle Stan! Ow!"

"Ah, you two," Stan said as he reached over and checked Mabel's scalp, which was health and growing hair still, "Ah, you two. You two are a wonderful pair of people, you know that?"

"Mister Pines, is everything quite alright?" Yuki asked.

Stan glared at him. "No!" Stan barked, pushing past the twins, "As a matter of fact, everything is not all right!" Yuki gulped as Stan towered over him. In the guise of his harsh, angry self, Stan cracked a grin. "I think someone isn't ready for the holiday, and only has half a day to get ready."

"W-what?" Yuki asked.

"Wait, Grunkle Stan," Dipper asked, stepping in sight of his grand uncle, "Are you saying-"

"I'm saying you two only have hours to get Yuki here a full costume and settled up for tonight's fun, because he gets the day off!" Stan declared, nearly jumping into the air.

"Who are you?" Mabel asked, her mouth twitching as she watched her Grand Uncle.

He stopped smiling and glared at her. "Fine. How about only half a day?" he told her.

Mabel gasped and shook her head. "We'll take the deal!" she said.

"Mister Pines," Yuki said, his voice cracking as he slowly grew back a smile, reaching out to Stan with a hand, "I- I don't know what to-"

"Ahh, shuddup," Stan waved a hand away, disregarding thanks, "I just figure, you know what the heck. It's a holiday. Do crazy stuff, fall behind on work, and most importantly, be irresponsible," Stan told. "Just make sure you're done by tomorrow morning, got it?"

"Yes sir!" Yuki smiled and nodded. Stan felt, for the first time since he had met the alien, himself smile back at Yuki.

"We need to grab our wallets!" Dipper told Mabel, "We've got the get him candy and-"

"A costume!" Mabel finished, and the twins both grabbed Yuki by the arms, and marched away with him, nearly dragging him along the floor with their speed. Stan laughed, feeling a strong sense of déjà-vu.

"So, some things do pass along with time," Stan chuckled. Soos walked up next to him, eyeing him still nervously. Stan chuckled, "I'm fine, Soos. Just had a dream that kind of woke me up."

"I'll say. I've never seen you so... uh... giving?" Soos tried.

"The word is 'nice', Soos, you can use the word nice," Stan told him.

Soos shrugged. "You're always nice to me, Mister Pines," Soos said.

Stan gave him a long, hard look, realizing just then and there how much he appreciated Soos. "No. You're the one who's always nice," Stan told him, putting a hand on Soos's shoulder, If there's anyone around here that deserves my appreciation, it's going to always be you."

Soos' eyes, which had previously watered, bordered on tears. He tensed up, clearing holding back emotions.

Stan grinned. "Now, go help the customers. Wendy's lazy butt isn't here, so I need you working the cash register until the rush is done, or heck, at least until noon. Whichever comes first. I've got someone to speak to."

"Y-you got it, M-Mister Pines," Soos stumbled for words as he walked over to behind the counter and began to charge people for their merchandise.

Stan sighed, and adjusted his cracked glasses. Stepping past the still mildly confused costumers, he strode out of the building. He made a sharp turn to the left. Marching against the hard wooden boards, Stan walked right over to none other than Arline Hirsh's room. With a quick adjustment of his robe, he cleared his throat and knocked.

Opposite to the opening previous in Stan's nighttime adventure, the door was opened quickly, and Arline peered out, already fully dressed. She still bore the look of confusion, especially when she saw Stan at her door.

"This is a record for earliest you wanted your money, Stanley," Arline told him as she opened the door fully.

"Hah. Right. You can hold onto that for now," Stan told her as he shrugged.

Arline blinked. "Come again?"

"What? Did you lose hearing just now?" he barked at her, "I said don't pay it today!"

"Uh... okay," Arline stared at him, uncertain to what kind of game or scheme he had cooking. "So then, what do you want? I can't help but think you're not here on a polite stop; making sure you're paying customers are still here."

"Can't say I am," He agreed. Talking to his family? Easy. Telling Soos that he appreciated him? Still easy. Giving Yuki a small smile? Eh, wasn't that hard. What he was about to say took effort. "I'm here to say... thank you."

Arline cleaned out her ear. "What?"

"I said thank you!" Stan roared. Arline backed up, waving her hand in front of her nose. Stan grumbled, "Seriously? Deaf much? You might want to work on that one."

"Thank me? For what?" Arline demanded, "You're not the kind of person who just thanks people for... no reason that didn't benefit you first."

"You're right again, I'm not just thank you 'cus. Get your ears open. I'm going to say this once, so listen carefully," Stan told her as he leaned closer, glaring at her as he did, "I don't like you. Not really. I think you're here for something other than what you say. If I find out what, I'll be the first one to wave the truth around like a flag."

Arline scrunched her face up. "Gee, odd thing to thank me for," Arline told him.

"But," That just anger faltered. Stan couldn't look her in the face, that confused young woman who frustrated him so. His insecurities that her existence brought to light was too much. He looked to the ground. He managed to say, looking there, "While you've been here, you have kept my grandkids safer than they probably would have been," Stan grumbled, "And, you know, I can't say I'm not thankful for that. So... yeah."

Arline stared at him, utterly taken of her words. He had been sincere. Absolutely sincere about the thank you. He had delivered it in a very double-handed way, but considering the amount of flak he had thrown at her up until that point, Arline had been convinced it was a losing battle to try making peace with him. If she hadn't heard it said directly at her, she would have thought it a lie.

Stan stood up again, looking about as uncomfortable as she was. "Anyway. Happy Summerween," Stan told her and turned, leaving Arline behind.

She watched him walk around the corner, presumably to head back inside. As she did, she shook herself clear of the daze he had put her in. He had actually thanked her. That... was unreal.

Maybe... just maybe... three spirits had come and haunted him. Changed his ways, and reminded him what it meant to be a good person.

"Nah, that's stupid," Arline told herself aloud as she gave the thought a second opinion. With a confused shrug, she stepped back inside, and closed the door.


And there you have it. A Summerween Carol was had, and Grunkle Stan was reminded that... it's okay not to be tough 100% of the time. As we should all know that. And stuff. And this was chapter 40!? WHAT?! Wow... well, here's to over half a year with this series. I couldn't have made it without your support guys. :)

Remember, the future is spooky.

Next Episode; Summerween Returns. Hold onto your butts, my friends.

(A giant, hairy and detached butt falls onto EZB, crushing him under it's weight.)


"Okay, what about a flying saucer, UFO?" Mabel asked.

The twins, and Yuki, sat in the twins room. Mabel held up her sketch pad, displaying a proposed costume idea, drawn to show Yuki wearing it. As she gave it a wiggle, Dipper frowned and Yuki tilted his head.

"It's massive, Mabel," Dipper told his sister, "He'll run into literally everyone and everything."

"And somewhat appropriative," Yuki remarked.

Mabel winced. "Oh, my bad. Hard pass on that one then," she said, and tore away the page, tossing it aside. Where it landed, there was a growing pile of previous failures of costume design. She began scribbling again. "What about, and here me out, a tree-man?"

Dipper gave Yuki a quick look. "An Ent? Dipper suggested.

"No, a tree-man," Mabel scowled at Dipper, "What did I say that sounded like an ant?"

As Dipper squinted at his sister, Yuki explained, "Ents are fictional tree-people."

"Are you two nuts? Ants are not fictional," Mabel told the two of them.

Dipper, letting out an exhausted sigh, explained, "Mabel, E-N-T. Not A-N-T."

"Oh. That's a tree-person?" she said, tilting her head to the side. Waddles, who lay on Mabels' bed, oinked. "Right? Why not call it something different?" she asked her pig. She then turned the picture around to them. This time, the crayon drawing showed a pleased Yuki strolling around in a series of cardboard logs. "Anyway, that way you can let your leaves out!"

"I must insist not," Yuki apologetically said.

"Awww, why not?"

"It may draw attention to my physiology."

Dipper patted his shoulder. "No one is going to care this night. It's a night everyone is weird and unusual. That said," Dipper frowned, "That's a lot of materials we'd need to get quickly, and assume we'd make it right the first try. Besides, that tree just looks like a bunch of brown tubes."

Mabel dropped the sketch pad, crossing her arms. "Well, mister smarty pants," she glowered, "What's your suggestion?"

Dipper scratched at his growing chin scruffs. Out loud, he thought, "Something we can get, or make, easily. Something that is easy for Yuki. Something that is comfortable. Something–" Dipper had turned to look at Yuki, and a lightbulb went off in his head. "We already have a costume for you, Yuki!"

"Oh?" Yuki looked to him excitedly.

Dipper leaned over to his sister, and whispered something. Mabel gasped. "Perfect!" she declared. To Yuki, who was thoroughly confused, Mabel asked, "How would you like to go back to work for one day?"


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-AND-

15-9, 2-1-8 8-21-13-2-21-7.