As much as Blubs tried his damndest to act like the hardened cop he had fawned over in his youth, he was feeling less accomplished than expected.

He walked back into the main office and locked the door behind him. Almost immediately, his shoulders slumped and the stony resolve dropped off like his new year's diet plans.

Durland was not feeling any more sprightly over the subject. "Blubs, I dunno if this feels right."

"You don't need to tell me." The sheriff said, quietly. "But I guess this is what police work is like."

"Well, I dunno if I like it."

"I know, Edwin. I never thought our investigation could lead to… this. But I just think of you in that terrible throne and remember who's responsible."

"Ain't the triangle feller sorta the guy to blame?"

"Shucks, Durland, he's not even in the picture anymore. We gotta take someone in, an' from what we saw of Fiddleford's papers?"

"Ford Pines ain't nice, is he Blubs?"

"He sure ain't. He sure ain't." Blubs sighed. "But from what we worked out, he also ain't the one who blew up Geron Street. The kids did that."

"An' they could have told us the truth ages ago-"

"You're danged right." Blubs replied. "I never thought Dipsy and Maple would twist the truth. Danged city kids."

"And Pacifica! I thought she wus a good 'un! She always gave me an extra pancake at our second breakfast!"

"And even with good people like Susan around her, she got wrapped up in the wrong crowd." Blubs tutted, hands on his hips. "Damned shame."

"Y-you really think Dipple and Maybe are that bad?"

Blubs opened his mouth to speak, for a moment being steadfast in his belief. But a moment was all it took. He hesitated and quickly faltered. "I- I don't know."

The portly sheriff walked to the window, peering out at his township, with his hands behind his back. He rocked back and forth on his feet as he watched the folk of Gravity Falls innocently going about their business.

He had expected to feel proud. For a brief while, at least, he had. But now he had kids in his holding cell and an overabundance of guilt. He was a man who built up emotional attachments pretty easily. Especially to kids who seemed, at heart, to have the right idea.

But Cutebiker had given them their instructions. They had done their jobs. And taken them in. Pure, straight police work. Just as they were supposed to. He felt like he had to keep justifying it, not least to his increasingly perturbed deputy.

The air conditioning's hollow hum echoed around them as he rubbed his impressive moustache.

Durland watched him and tapped his fingers together awkwardly. "I- I dunno, either, Blubs. I know you wanted us to prove ourselves, but- this is a little more diffycult than I think I had in mind."

"You're tellin' me." Daryl replied, huffing as he looked at the old Memory Gun that laid on the evidence table. "This ain't what I was banking on. Secret societies, dimensional portals, liquorice scented rubble… who knew the Pines had so many dark secrets?"

"I liked 'em. Fer city boys, I mean."

"Not ours to like, Deputy Durland." He replied, rubbing Edwin's back. "We just gotta… we gotta see this through. Think how many folks have suffered. Think about that Weirdmageddon hoo-ha. Think about all of this town's worst moments."

"He caused the Maple Syrup shortage?"

"Save that one. The fact is, we gotta do what's right, Edwin. We gotta do this on the part of the town. Of the people who trust us. We gotta get justice for the people who've been hurt. Not just you, not just me - think of Fiddleford McGucket, think of the mayor, think of-"

"But they also did some rescuing. Like, Weirdmageddon rescuing."

"That's why it's all so damned confusing."

"What if we freed 'em?" Durland said, abruptly, clapping his hands together.

"The mayor would have our badges."

Durland went quiet and held the imitation brass regalia between his fingers. "...I do like my badge."

"You gotta understand, Ed, they went an' mindwiped the mayor!" Blubs reaffirmed, sipping his mega-choca-super-stocka-mocha. "And that Blind Eye crud? Well, I can't imagine the stuff McGucket seen, but I'm impressed he ain't way crazier than he is."

Durland scratched his head. "Least we ain't never bin affected, huh, Blubs? We're still as sharp as ever!"

"And we're damned good cops. Y'know, maybe someone will post bail and things can straighten out from there. Maybe the Pines can argue about all this and prove us wrong."

"Sure have to be rich to pay that bail, Blubs."

"Fiddleford McGucket's outta town til tomorrow, and Susan ain't so-"

The little tinkling bell above the precinct's door rang as it swung open with furious determination. The two incompetent - if sincerely enthusiastic - cops froze, their quandary interrupted by the arrival of the tall, square-shouldered silhouette of Preston Northwest, resplendent in blazer and tie.

Blubs furrowed his brow. Durland scowled. They were no friends of Preston Northwest. Truth be told, it seemed like nobody in town was, anymore.

He barely exchanged a glance with them. Rather than making eye contact, Preston held his lapel and simply glared up at the ceiling. As if he disapproved of the station's decor as much as he did the situation.

And being fair, the decor was ghastly.

"I'm here about bail." He said, Priscilla standing behind him.

"All of 'em?" The sheriff asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Don't be foolish. I'm here for my daughter."

Blubs and Durland exchanged a glance. "Now- now see here, Preston, we have it on pretty good authority that she ain't-"

"I am her father. You know as well as I do that legally, she's my responsibility."

Blubs puffed up his chest, which gave him a shape not unlike a bloated aubergine. He tried to confront Preston with all of the authority he could muster. "Now I ain't a man to believe the law is the be-all, end-all-"

Preston frowned and tapped his chest. "I'm not here to argue. I will pay the bail, as would be expected of any prisoner, and take Pacifica as her legal guardian. Do I make myself clear?"

Blubs huffed. "I'm not so sure if-"

"I will sue you so hard that you'll need four more jobs just to buy the starch for your hat, Daryl."

The tension was palpable. Fists clenched. Aviator shades were lowered. Moustaches bristled. Their eyes pierced like syringes full of unbridled anger. It was looking just like it'd come to fisticuffs when-

"This way, missus Northwest!"

"Thank you, Durland."

Blubs snapped out of it and stared at his deputy. "Now see here, Edwin Durland, what are you-?!"

"I don't like seein' no Pacifica in prison. An' according to mah book, they's doin' exactly what th'law says they should!"

Durland held up his rubber, waterproof Book of Baby's First Legal Guidelines and Basic Math.

The case, like the book, was watertight. Blubs - as much as it pained him - had to concede.

Police work was damned difficult.