After lunch, Dipper watched sadly as Great Uncle Ford headed for the door, coat on and large gun of some sort strapped onto his back.
"Where you going to be, Sixer? " Stan asked.
"Just going out to the woods to check on an old favorite spot of mine," he shot a grin at Dipper. "I should be home by dinner. "
He went out the door.
Stan sighed. "Be safe, Stanford." Dipper heard him say under his breath.
"Hey, Dip! Want to play the new Duck-tective based Clue game you got? "
Dipper sighed. "Sure, Mabel. Coming. "
One of Ford's boots stamped out an ember on the forest floor. He looked around.
"Goodness. Such destruction. Where in this forest could that tree have been? "
He went further into the forest. It was eerily quiet, and the smell of smoke permeated the air.
"Let me see…"
Ford walked about a hundred yards more.
"Oh, my. "
Off to his left was a giant hole. It was full of ash and dirt. Ford went over to it and brushed some of the ash away with his hand. Underneath was what remained of a step that used to lead down into the bunker.
"Well, that's certainly not safe to go down." he said with a sigh. "I don't have any climbing equipment with me, and that staircase is no doubt half burned away—"
"CRACK!"
Ford stood and whirled around. A muscular young man in a thin t-shirt, jeans, and boots stood there. He carried a duffle bag over one shoulder.
"Oh—you startled me." Ford said. "You should be careful—you could give an old man a heart attack. "
The newcomer looked him up and down. "You're not that old. I'm guessing you're—about sixty-two now? "
Instinctively, Ford felt his body tense. That was his exact age. "How—how did you know how old I was? And what do you mean, "now"? Do I know you? "
"Oh, you certainly do know me, Stanford."
Ford's fists balled. The man's voice had suddenly gone several octaves deeper. Then before his eyes, the newcomer's eyes became bulbous, and his left arm turned into a tentacle that shot out at him.
"What-?"
Stanford jumped to the side. The tentacle missed him, but he started to lose his footing and fall backward toward the hole.
"Noo—"
The tentacle wrapped around Ford, catching him before he fell in. It drew him closer to the young man—creature.
"Let me-go!" Ford cried, struggling.
"Ah, so you have some fight in you now."
"Who—what are you? What do you want with me? "
"All in due time, Stanford-all in due time."
The young man put down the duffle bag. His other arm became a tentacle, and a third tentacle shot out from his shoulder.
"Let go of me!" Ford cried, still struggling. "Someone, hel-mmmph!"
The creature wrapped the new tentacle around his prisoner's mouth. "Ah-ah. None of that."
With the fourth tentacle the creature unzipped the duffle bag and took out a bottle. With a fifth tentacle he undid the lid of the bottle, and poured a bit of its contents onto a cloth. He unwrapped the portion of the tentacle that covered Ford's mouth, but before Ford could cry out the creature slapped the cloth over Ford's mouth and nose.
"Hlllllph! Mmmmmph! "
Ford tried struggling, but after a few moments his eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp.
"Much better." The man-creature said. "You always did talk too much."
The creature put Ford on the ground and retracted its tentacles. In its human form it removed Ford's duster, then undid the buckle of the strap that held the large gun on his back. Leaving the duster and gun on the ground, the "man" threw his unconscious captive over his shoulder, and walked deeper into the forest.