Pacifica felt like she was going insane. She threw a lamp at the window in the desperate hope it would break. The specially-ordered Northwest Glass deflected it with little more than a hollow 'boompf'.

It was like the invisible barriers at the edge of the world in Bloodcraft: Overdeath. She could still see the smoke rising from the town centre. If it wasn't for the damned glass, she could probably hear the commotion and smell the burning.

She hammered her fists against it and gritted her teeth at her aching hands. For but a moment, the young socialite almost exploded with anger. How could they? How could her mom and dad act as if this wasn't a big deal? How could they keep her from going to see him?!

Them. All of them! Not just Dipper! Just - just especially Dipper!

The blue lights (which were just normal lights wrapped in blue candy wrappers) of the town's fire truck (which was an old jalopy with a garden hose strapped to the back) could be seen bouncing against the white panels of the old church.

She needed to get out of there. She needed to-

She paused.

The fire engine's lights grew larger and more vibrant. As if they were coming closer. She could almost hear that muffled siren growing louder and louder, crashing into the town's street furniture with wild abandon.

Then, to her surprise, the fire truck - now bedecked in a mailbox, two streetlights and a fire hydrant, smashed through the Northwest's fence, ran over a designer garden gnome and tore up the luxury turf.

Before she had time to question the bizarre scene, a mechanical ladder (which was a pair of normal ladders assembled together with springs and levers) slammed against the glass of the window. On board, precariously perched on the equally precarious ladder, was a familiar face. A face looking shaken - but determined. Stanford Pines.

A charred, bruised Stanford Pines.

Her initial shock soon faded away as she realised her loved ones had done the unthinkable - that being a rather fiery escape and chaotic getaway.

"Are you alright?" He asked firmly, his voice muffled by the indestructible glass. It still struck Pacifica how much the scientist looked like some kind of particularly square-jawed geography teacher, when even partially on fire.

She was excited, but still had an expression of pure defeatism. "I-I'm fine, but the glass is like, ridiculous. It must be the strongest stuff on Earth."

"Thankfully my tools aren't from Earth," Ford replied, grinning proudly. "Sit tight, we'll have you out of there in a jiffy."

"How did you even-"

"The only volunteer firefighter who turned up was Toby Determined. We threw him into a tree. To be honest, I think he enjoyed it. A strange, sad little man."

Pacifica blinked. At least it wasn't particularly cruel. She'd seen Toby nest in a tree before.

Ford pulled out what could only be described as a bizarre fusion of a laser pointer and a ballpoint pen. He furrowed his brow, stuck out his tongue and got to work with a gaze of immense concentration. Pacifica's fascination peaked as a bright orange beam shot from the interdimensional curio's nib and began throwing sparks from the heavyweight glass panes.

"Whoa-"

"Try not to look straight at it."

"What else can it do?"

"Basically cuts through anything. Sort of a reverse extraterrestrial adhesive."

"I gotta get me one of those."

Ford chuckled. "Then it's yours. Mabel gets a grappling hook, Dipper gets the journal, you get the intergalactic cutter. Sound fair?"

The dull hum caused it rattle in its frames, and, with a loud chink, an outsized chunk of the window slipped free. It left a large enough gap for Pacifica to walk through, let alone climb out of, and promptly fell the four stories onto the garden below.

The glass was so strong that it bounced like a nickel and rolled away.

"Now." Ford smiled, slipping it back into his utility belt. "Are you ready to get out of here?"

"...To where?"

"Wherever Soos and Susan are leading us. They've given us a map and some instructions."

"Is-"

"Dipper is fine." Ford chuckled. "Now come on."

Pacifica was about to do what she told - when she paused and looked down. Four stories, straight into a bunch of torn-up turf with particularly spiky-looking garden gnomes. It wasn't the finest prospect. She had been in some pretty hairy situations in her life. A fireman's lift from a nearly 70-year-old man down a few bits of plywood wasn't something she fancied.

It was then that she noticed the stray ropes from the bizarre, tumbledown mechanism. And beamed.

"Pacifica!" her father barked from behind, having apparently spent time phoning his insurance company over the vehicle before checking on his family "Don't you dare!"

She turned and glared at him, backing towards the window. "See ya later, Dad."

"I'll - I'll sue you! I'll sue all of you! I'll sue this damned town!" He foamed, dripping with fury and going a funny shade of purple.

"Gotta catch me first."

Ford grinned and offered his hand, only for Pacifica to low-five it, sweep underneath his arm and grab one of the ropes.

The old scientist blinked and began lowering the ladder. "Going the sailor's route?"

"Gotta prepare somehow!" the young heir replied as she swung across to the tree on the other side of the yard. It wasn't the fastest descent - but a few more swings and slides, and Pacifica Northwest daintily placed her boots upon the floor, overloaded with adrenaline.

Her father was left sputtering, running downstairs to try and catch her while furiously ranting about the legal ramifications. Priscilla - who was watching things unfold with genuine interest - blinked as she glanced through the window from behind a red velvet curtain, watching her daughter's expression as she joined the makeshift team.

Ford swung himself back into the fire truck's cabin, while Pacifica eagerly swung herself straight into Dipper.

"OOF!"

She smiled and wrapped her arms tightly around him, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Guess you kept your promise, huh?"

"T-tried our best!" He smiled, a flush travelling up his cheeks.

Pacifica tapped his nose and adjusted her hair. "What did you do ?"

"We didn't," Stan said, his shirt's shoulder looking distinctly charred. "Suse sprang us. Some kinda explosive cake."

"With fruit in it!" Mabel added. "A big dynamite fruitcake!"

"It made a hell of a mess." Stan said. "Guess it's what you call a cherry bomb. Huh? Huh?!"

Ford smirked and punched his brother's arm.

"Man, that thing was like a nuke! You shoulda seen it, Paz!" Mabel continued, gesturing wildly while holding Waddles on her lap. "It was like kafwoom!"

"Yeah, I kinda saw it from my bedroom." Pacifica said, quietly accepting that Susan continued being the biggest, craziest, loveliest wildcard in her life. Until, at least, her eyes met Dipper's. She blinked and smiled from ear-to-ear as she wiped some soot from his cheek. "So… what's the plan now?"

Stan fished in his breast pocket and pulled out a slightly crumpled sticky note. The handwriting was unmistakably Susan's. "We… we gotta get to the… Greenpeace? Man, we gotta meet up with hippies?"

"Wipe your glasses, Stanley."

"Right, right, Crawlspace! We're going to the Crawlspace!"

The Northwest groaned out loud and leaned back against her boyfriend. "Really? Again?"

"We gotta take what we can get." Dipper shrugged. "Y'know, now we're fugitives."

"Augghhhh…." She grumbled. "Fine. Let's go."

Preston had just arrived at the door when Stan put his foot down and the old fire engine took off.

"Hey!" Mabel chirped. "What about Waddles' seatbelt?! What about my seatbelt?!"

"This ain't some kid's show, sweetie!" Stan barked back as they tore up the turf behind them and crashed through another fence. "This is pure criminal hijinks!"

The ramshackle firetruck swung about on its drive axle and peeled out of the Massoinette's garden at full speed, leaving behind a trail of pure carnage.

Preston could only seethe and snarl, his hands clenched into quivering fists as the Pines - and his daughter - roared through town with all of the subtlety of a herd of wild bison.