The townspeople were not coping too well on their own. Somebody had already suggested the idea of using Toby as bait for lake sharks, and it seemed like the prospect was only growing more and more of an appeal.

The rain, at least, had stopped - save for a strange, continuous downpour over the Northwest Manor. And, speaking of the Northwests - well, in a town where money was currently the least important object, they'd been proven distinctly…

Powerless.

The wealthy couple had been tied up with impressive efficiency and were now back to back around the courthouse's weather vane - quite unable to move and only capable of doing the only other thing a Northwest was good at.

Losing their temper.

The two were ranting and raving with abandon, flailing and struggling against their firm plastic bonds with little avail. It didn't help that their court outfits offered very little agility and very little motion at the best of times.

"You'll all regret this!" Preston yelled at the top of his lungs. "Don't you know who I am?!"

"I will sue all of you! I will sue you, I will sue you again, and then I shall be placed in cryogenic suspension so I can come back to life every generation and sue every single one of your descendants!" Priscilla spat, furiously.

"Dude, I'm tellin' ya, the guy who invented zip-ties? Bro was like, using 100% of his brain." Soos beamed, admiring his handiwork. "This stuff is like the gamer fuel of the DIY world."

"You! You! Jorge! Uh - Pablo! Oh, whatever your name is, you're very fond of your little shack - set us free and I'll give you an entire franchise them! A replacement for it!"

"Dude, I don't, like, want more than just our shack, bro. You guys never heard of emotional connection? Like, I think it's probably worth getting counselling, or therapy, or a meditation app or somethin'."

The jovial Mr. Mystery turned and gestured to the townspeople.

"You guys, like, never thought about how much more powerful you'd be if you were like Pacifica and had the entire town as your friends? Like, they all love her, bro. I don't even think you guys love eachother. Like, you just treat everyone as a - you know - one of them stock sheet things."

"Great, even Emanuel is giving us a morality lesson." Priscilla spat, furiously. "I hate all of you. I hate all of this . I just wanted my daughter back!"

"Yeah, but, dude-girl-bro-rich-person-wife-dawg, did you even like, consider if it was because you loved your daughter, or because you liked having a daughter?"

Priscilla glared at him furiously. "I am going to crush you."

"Good luck, bro. I'm like, totally uncrushable. I've got a barrier made of cheetos and saltwater taffy." Soos beamed, patting his stomach, walking away from them.

"Hey! Hey! Don't you walk away from me, you-aaaand he's gone." Preston huffed in resignation.

"I can't believe this is happening." His wife sighed.

"Quite. We've not been tied up since what, 1998? That stint in Morocco." Preston beamed.

"It was almost like they didn't want us to take their water supply." Priscilla chuckled.

The two sighed as they reminisced over the matter. They had been together for so many years, now, and it was often easy to forget just how much they shared, how many wonderful dollars they had made. It had, ultimately, been a good life.

Slowly, the two of them entwined fingers as they languished in their bonds.

While this disturbing - albeit strangely touching - scene of two immensely broken people unfolded, the rest of the town's rather damaged population was watching the silhouette of the mansion house on the hill - desperately hoping for a sign - any sign - of what was to come.

"Do you think they're okaaaay?" Susan huffed, "I'd hate for poor Pacificaaa to chip a naaaail!"

"If there's anybody out there who can survive whatever's going in there, it's Dan." Tyler simpered, clasping his tiny little hands. "...And the Pines, too. And maybe the old timey-guy."

The middle-aged woman was growing increasingly anxious. "If she and Stan get hurt I don't know what I'd doooo!"

"Dude, you think we should swim over to 'em?" Soos asked. "I can do a mean doggy paddle."

"I think the more people who go over there, the more people could get hurt." Tyler retorted. "We just have to have faith in 'em."

"That ain't very hero material, dude."

"Look…" Tyler huffed, holding the bridge of his nose. "If I'm not mistaken, everything from that there triangle feller to that there reanimated-half-rotten-lawyer-feller has been caused by people sticking their noses into places that they don't quite belong. I get y'all wanna be heroes, but maybe - just maybe - it'd do you all well to stop sticking your necks out?!"

"I don't even have a neck on account of numerous genetic deformities!" Toby chirped, only tempting the townsfolk into using him as lake-shark-bait even more.

"I'm just saying, let's maybe leave this to the experts." Tyler said, firmly.

The silence of the townsfolk was deafening in response. What experts did they have left? Soos was the only other guy to help fight a monster, and he was the definition of a friendly side character, rather than an intrepid adventurer.

Even if he had some kinda crazy junk like a cool wolf arm, he'd still just be the utterly charming, harmless man who made the best snack foods in the entire Northwest.

And he was currently busy trying to work out why he could smell barbecue sauce on his shirt, which basically meant he was checked out for the next forty minutes.

"Aight, aight. We'll go." Blubs said, hands in his belt.

Tyler held his shoulder. "You and Durland have proven yourself as officers of the law. But you ain't monster hunters, silly. You and your handsome moustache ain't gonna help!"

Blubs felt a pang of pride - and frustration. "We gotta send someone in there!"

Susan narrowed her good eye and twisted her lip. "Is that a…beacon on the manor?"

Little did the townsfolk know that McGucket - in his usual unhinged paranoia - had rigged the entire house with seismic detectors, motion detectors and alarms - much as he had the switches on his railroad. The ensuing scramble had been carried out with brutal efficiency from his classified location.

Gravity Falls may have been a hick town in the middle of nowhere, but McGucket's research was worth billions - so if he demanded a move, then boy howdy, they jumped like fleas. It was particularly convenient if you wanted a Pitt Cola at 4AM.

The silence was disturbed by a thundering clap of rotors upon the unseasonably wet summer area. Clouds parted like tearing cotton wool as a government helicopter descended above them, painted jet black and with a similar looking beard floating in the breeze.

"Ah'm on a helly-go-copter! Hehehehehehe!"

Fiddleford McGucket was wearing a somewhat ill-fitting tactical uniform and equally ill-fitting sandals as he descended a rope ladder with infectious delight. The little man was clearly having the time of his life.

"Anyone wanna come help me fight a watchamacallit?!" He gibbered excitedly.

Everybody was stunned into silence. Fiddleford McGucket? In a Government 'copter? That was a dichotomy nobody was particularly prepared for. One of those seemingly impossible combinations.

"IIII'll go!" Susan twittered, stepping forward and pulling a spatula out of her apron. "That's my not-really-daughter but-still-emotionally-dependent-daughter in theeere! And my on-and-off-again boooyfriend!"

Before McGuccket even replied, the intrepid older woman was climbing the ladder and greeting the selection of weaponised government goons in the helicopter as if they were a biker group that had arrived at her restaurant. "Hiya booooys!"

"Anybody else?" McGucket beamed, his eyes veering off into opposite directions. "I've got mah eye on all of you!"

"...You haven't got an eye on any of us." Bud replied.

"Ah kin see mah house an' mah favourite tree all in one go!"

"Candy and Grenda come join now!" came a small, chipper voice - rowing inside an empty fridge that floated ably in the dark, murky waters.

"I WANNA PUNCH SOME EVIL IN THE FACE!" Grenda agreed, causing the makeshift raft to sway.

"Well heck, ain't you two jus' kids? Though you, the muscly fella, I bet you could-"

Grenda was quick to correct McGucket over the matter. "AREN'T DIPPER AND MABEL KIDS? AND I'M A BEAUTIFUL GIRL!"

"Shucks. Aight, get on board! We've got a Speeder ta speed on!"

"Speeder?" Candy asked, sitting on the lap of one of the government goons as if he was a piece of furniture. "What's speeder?"

"It's mah petrol-powered matcha-ma-callit rail-a-majig!" McGucket replied.

Candy and Grenda exchanged a confused glance, but ultimately decided it was of little consequence compared to helping fight off whatever their best friends had gotten involved with. After all, Pacifica gave them coffee despite being too young, and Mabel enjoyed their taste in age-inappropriate fiction. Those made for pretty indispensable friends.

The helicopter took off, veering not towards the manor - but to the cliffs, where the speeder was waiting, nestled inside Trembley's little cavern. They had no idea what they were likely to come up against - nor what they were going to uncover.