Candy and Grenda had considered themselves proud Spelunkers, even when they just thought it was a really funny word to call themselves. How couldn't they? 'Spelunker'. It's hilarious.

However, the duo were shocked by the secret chamber inside Gravity Falls' famous cliff. Beset under the darkening skies, lit by seemingly permanently illuminated gas lamps, the Trembley hideout was a strange little nook, adorned with outdated flags, posters and filing cabinets bulging with paranormal research. Every inch seemed surrounded by paraphernalia, the errant president's favourite chair and a thin mattress all piled up into the space with a surprising eye for interior comfort.

Soaked in dust, the yellow light created a warm, mysterious atmosphere. Like tea stains upon paper, it made things foggy, more authentic, and distinctly kitschy. Perhaps it was a sign of just how bad things were in the town that they'd find a literal hole in the ground more welcoming.

To the two teenage girls, it was a bit of a weird old-timey wonderland.

"This grotto is amazing." Candy whispered. "I wish to be a little mountain goblin girl too!"

"SHUT UP, CANDY! I'M GONNA COMMANDEER THIS CAVE!" Grendy bellowed in return, grabbing an old tricorn hat and perching it on her head.

"I had no idea this was in heere!" Susan chirped, admiring an old map on the cave wall. "I didn't even know there weeere thirty-eight staaates!"

"Shure is somethin', ain't it?" McGucket beamed. "Some kinda hideaway for that there Tremble-knees feller. Buts we can't be a-dawdlin'!"

It was too late - the hillbilly's words were lost upon the curious kids, who were now piling through old filing cabinets and cupboards, fully intending to get the scoop on Gravity Falls' past, present, and post-apocalyptic future in which Time Baby ate ice cream a little too quickly and destroyed the arctic in revenge.

"I WANNA LIVE HERE AND EAT THE CANDY IN THIS BOTTLE!" Grenda yelled back, rattling an antique bottle of arsenic tablets.

"Put that down!" McGucket retorted. "Y'all can't eat that!"

There was a pause.

"'Soutta date." He added.

It was the younger member of the group that was the first to come across a particularly interesting piece of curio. It was a document like the thousands of others that Quentin had assembled - from the biography of Nathaniel Northwest, to the location of the Fountain of Youth (Quentin's favourite drinking spot in Portland) - but was dressed much differently. Quite literally.

"What - what is this?" Candy said, picking up a document held within what could only be described as a little paper waistcoat. It was quite the charming little folder for a manuscript titled in a most sinister manner.

MY CONFESSION

Upon which I confess

Confess my confession, I mean

Sir Lord Quentin Trembley III, Esq.

8½th President of the United States of America

Creator of brick-hockey

Inventor of the Salamander pudding

She opened it up curiously as McGucket tried to start the little wagon powered by ancient automobile parts, the thing roaring and spluttering like a decrepit flu-ridden tiger. The contents almost immediately erupted a gasp from the squat little Korean girl.

"H-he's-"

"Who's what?" McGucket asked, peering over the manuscript.

The old man's eyes widened as he took in the paperwork. Susan did much the same. Grenda was not capable of such quiet, contemplative surprise, and instead shouted an expletive that was not quite fit for print.

"Dadgum." Fiddleford muttered as he took the paper and pushed it into his satchel. "Seems ta be th'summer o'secrets, huh?"

"Terrible deception." Candy tutted, before her mood did a complete 180 and she eagerly climbed onto the Speeder. "I can drive?"

"Ain't nobody drivin' this matcha-ma-callit rail-a-majig but me!" McGucket beamed, climbing into his seat and spitting on his hands before kicking the stickshift into first and kicking the ancient engine into life - surrounded by thick clouds of clag, smoke and water vapour as it began juddering like a demon shifting furiously on its wheels.

"Is this saaaafe?" Susan winced as she perched next to him.

"Well now! I uh… um." McGucket faltered.

There was an awkward pause as he ruminated on the manner, before guffawing in his usual tone, kicking the stickshift and shuddering off with the distinctly ramshackle crew aboard his equally ramshackle bench seats.

The Speeder began its long journey.

"So, government bigshot?" Susan smiled. "How's that's going for you?"

"Shure is a lotta work, but the pres-y-dent erased mah entire criminal record! 'Pparently they commits more weaponised atrocities th'n I ever did!"

"How..nice…" Susan winced.

"In all seree-is-ness ah'm workin' ta keep 'em outta Gravity Falls. Keep tellin' 'em y'all kin handle it, that th'rain't no worries 'bout no wild old-timey folks or gnomes or junk. They almost brought in a whole host'a scientists to experiment on some Shmebulock feller."

"He tried to kidnap me last week. Funny times!" Candy beamed, as the rattling little wagon roared over the Wentworth bridge.

"I THINK IT'S GREAT YOU GUYS ARE SAVING OUR FRIENDS!" Grenda piped up. Though her piping was more like a ship's horn.

Susan smiled back at the larger girl, with her typically pleasant - if slightly vacant - look on her face. "Pacifica's way more than just a friend. She's just about the closest I've got to a daughter."

"An' Stanford Pines is just-a-bout mah only friend fr'm the ol'days who ain't none-too-judgemental on account-a-mah crazy-times!" McGucket said, with his typically semi-deranged - if well-meaning - look on his face.

"The Pines, they mean a lot to us." Candy nodded, giggling as the train jolted somewhat on an errant rail joint.

"AND DIPPER IS KINDA CUTE!"

The speeder fell somewhat more silent following that little outburst. Candy glared at her friend, wrinkling her nose.

"WHAT? HE'S CUTE LIKE A PUPPY. I WANNA FEED HIM POPCORN AND BABYTALK HIM! LIKE COOCHIE-COOCHIE-COO!" Grenda retorted, mimicking the act of coochie-coochie-cooing while the speeder careened into the opposite cliff and nearly ran over a sparrow.

"I think he's too sweaty to coochie-coo." Candy retorted. "Pacifica is welcome to that boy. I have my eyes for other man now."

The chipper Korean girl peaked at the photograph of Thompson she kept in her pocket and sighed, while the spluttering speeder began its steep, downwards spiral - down deeper and deeper into the depths of the foreboding hills, down towards what would doubtless be a catastrophe.

"MAN, CANDY! YOU'RE WEIRD!" Grenda replied, echoing across the valley as they went on their rescue mission with amiable enthusiasm.