"For the love of- is this guy gonna keep it up forever?!" Stan yelled angrily, throwing his pocket detritus at the great beast as if it would have the slightest bit of impact.
"I don't think he has any understanding of patience or fallacy anymore." Ford grunted, his prosthetic foot clomping heavily against another wood beam as he clambered onto it. Even the usually war-ready Stanford Pines was beginning to feel the exertion a little.
Pacifica groaned as she hopped onto the leftmost side beam and leaned against the wall, panting. She hadn't done a gymnastics contest in over a year, and to be fair, had phoned it in when she did, anyway. Every single one of those gold medals had come from simply buying gold medals with her allowance. Dipper and Mabel weren't faring much better, and the three of them seemed close to falling into a heap.
By now, the group had navigated the chapel's roof at least three times. It was becoming exhausting, sure, but it was mostly getting really tedious. Every leap felt like a death-defying move, hundreds of feet in the air - but it was also getting so repetitive that, if anybody had been writing all of this down, it would have probably become pretty tedious.
Thankfully, nobody would be that dumb or have that much free time.
"Man, I- I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up." Dipper groaned, wiping his brow.
Pacifica leant her head against his and sighed. "You could take the ushanka off, you dork."
"No way, Wendy's like, right there-" Dipper trailed off as Pacifica's eyes pierced him like daggers. There was an awkward pause. "-It's just- just a sentimental thing, y'know? Probably means a lot to the family and-"
The Northwest heir slapped him playfully across the back of the head with a smirk. "Jerk."
"I think my heart is gonna 'splode." Mabel groaned. "Because of exertion, and not because of Kevin's fancy fancy hair."
"How're you guys holding up?" Wendy said, leaping onto the sidebeam to catch her breath.
"I feel like death, smell like death and like I'm being threatened with death." Pacifica snarked.
"Yeah, it's uh… it's pretty intense. You guys got any ideas?"
"Not one." Dipper said, rubbing his head.
The look of defeat was shared by his girlfriend. "Apart from burying him, we're pretty much done for."
Mabel rested her head back and rolled her eyes. "And I bet he'll just ooze right out of the rubble like…like…goo."
"Could at least slow him down, though." Wendy said. "Maybe this is like, our signal to get outta here. Hope he gets eaten by the multibear or something."
"No way." Dipper replied. "I spoke to him last week, the mulitbear's vegan now."
The Corduroy teenager blinked. "...Huh."
Kevin vaulted onto the sidebeam, much to Mabel's glee (and adoring squeal.) "Dad says that this place is gonna end up coming down. This is a lotta structural timber."
"Quite so!" Trembley added, clinging atop one of the braces above them. "I am talking to the mortar, and it tells me only terrible things!"
"You can talk to stone?!" Mabel gasped, holding her cheeks in amazement.
"I can talk to many things, congresswoman!"
Dipper and Pacifica looked far less convinced.
"Guys, guys, please!" Kevin said, more urgently, grabbing Mabel's shoulder. "This is serious! I can't have you getting hurt!"
"Oh Kevin…" Mabel whispered, leaning in adoringly.
Wendy cleared her throat, interrupting the romantic moment and trying to keep the simpering to a minimum. She was never one for romance. "So Dad says we're screwed?"
"Dude, we're so screwed." Kevin replied.
The news was not something anybody took joy in. Even if the destruction of the chapel was something long overdue, the idea of escaping a building collapse deep underground was a very different matter.
The tentacles lashed towards them, and the group scattered before another word could be shared, a rain of splinters falling behind them. Already, the roof was gaining a certain sag, with the mortar lines beginning to look distinctly wider…
"Egads! The roof is complaining! It's using terrible words!" Trembley chirped, urgently.
"Kids!" Ford yelled, from the opposite side of the grand hall. "You need to-"
The creature slumped downwards, hesitated…then shot out two parallel tendrils from each side, both slashing towards each side of the building. Instinctively, the kids lept out of the way, onto the same enormous rafter.
Dipper grunted and wiped his brow. He looked up, only to see the terrified expression on Ford's face. "We need to what?"
"Get back to the sides!"
Dipper was about to reply when Trembley vaulted onto that very same beam, with a remarkably targeted flounce - landing astride it like he had the rear end of many horses. It was too late for Ford's protests. That impact was enough to finally break those last few pieces of unfettered timber. Each side, slashed open by the razor-like whips of the liquorice-scented hulk, began to groan, splinter….and, finally, split open.
The kids yelped and threw themselves to the woodwork, holding it tightly as it suddenly jarred underneath them, sagging by half a foot - then grinding back stuck, the imperfect cut grinding against itself and sticking fast in the grain of the enormous wood beam.
Dipper stared into Pacifica's eyes, as for a moment, things seemed to re-settle, and gave an awkward smile - savouring what seemed like a momentary victory. He didn't have time before it sagged further, the retaining cables groaning above them as it tried desperately to hold up the half-ton of solid redwood.
"Oh god oh god oh god-" Pacifica gritted her teeth.
"Everybody, just stay still!" Ford yelled. "Don't make a single move!"
The dulled mind of the malformed monster stared up at the commotion. Its enormous pupil dilated and shrank slowly as it examined the situation, thick tarry saliva pouring from behind that empty, staring, disturbing, glossy eyeball.
A forked, bubbled, blistered tongue moistened its colossal cornea…
And it lashed out with another whipped tendril, splitting the final few inches from the ancient timber - and breaking it loose. The kids (and Trembley) screamed as the enormous beam sagged further, each of them holding on for dear life, as the retaining cable screeched louder, stretching to its limits.
A sheer drop onto concrete lay below them, surrounded by ancient pine pews and sinister mosaics. It was enough to send a pang of fear up even the steeliest of spines. And Quentin Trembley purported his to be made of exactly that.
The Grunkles stood to attention, desperately trying to think of some action - any action - to take.
"Sixer, ya gotta do somethin'!" Stan barked.
"Like what?!"
"I dunno, poindexter, you're meant ta be the brainiac, I'm just here ta charm!"
Ford rolled his eyes and tapped his lip, before cupping his hands over his mouth and shouting down at the bubbling creature below. "Bill! I know you're in there! You can't do this, if you let that timber fall, the damned roof will come down on all of-"
A pointed, aimed tentacle flew out towards the old scientist, and nearly thrashed Ford straight from the sidebeam. Whatever logic there was inside the creature's mind, it clearly had no intentions of listening to Stanford Pines.
Then, it happened.
One retaining cable broke, and the pillar swung outwards, pivoting and twisting its cables like they were nothing but thin layers of twine. It swept outwards, swinging out like a colossal mobile in the world's most sinister nursery. The kids (and Trembley) clung on, yelling in pure, unbridled fear as the enormous cable pinged apart like fishing wire. The entire rafter sagged, groaning and causing dust to fall from the mortar above them.
The colossal, pine battering ram swung back and forth, two tons of timber rocking back and forth, stretching that tensile metal tighter and tighter. With its unwitting passengers screaming in horror, the thing continued to swing - until the cables snapped entirely.
The creature's pupil narrowed as it realised what it was being faced with. It tried to lash outwards to stop it, but it appeared that the forces of nature had another idea. The gigantic rafter plummeted straight towards him, flying like a big, clumsy javelin - and hit with the most sickening of noises.
The screeching was horrendous - an ear-piercing tone of fury and anguish, with an audible, digital-esque distortion that betrayed the triangular demon deep within its subconscious. With a grotesque, splattering squelch, the wood plunged straight through the creature's eyeball, javelining it straight through like a pig on a spit - slamming through the wall behind it and wedging stuck in the cinderblocks.
The kids screamed in abject horror at the scene, as bright blue fluid splurted in all directions, and the beam finally plummeted to the floor, throwing all of them into the cold, harsh flagstones of the structurally compromised hall.
Things fell deadly silent.
"Good God. I'm going to have to leave the country." Trembley mused. "...Again."
Pacifica winced and looked away. She was about to bury her head in Dipper's shoulder, only for him to beat her to it, hiding his pallid face from the sight of the horrifically speared creature. Mabel and Kevin stared, blankly, at the sight of the still husk of what - once upon a time - was a threat.
Ford abseiled down with Stanley, both of whom were similarly muted. They approached the motionless beast gingerly, helping the kids back to their feet.
Manly Dan lept down like he was a boss from a mediocre 1990s anime, the floor cracking underneath him. "THAT WAS FOUL!"
Gus chirped, apparently overjoyed by the sight of the liquorice creature speared by a gigantic lump of wood. "That was awesome!"
"I-I'm gonna be sick." Pacifica groaned. "I swear. I mean it."
"Don't, if you're sick, I'll be sick…" Dipper whimpered, holding his chest.
"Puke party. Puke everywhere. Nothing but puke." Mabel agreed, staring blankly at the tarry, centipede monstrosity as it jettisoned its blue, phlegmy insides upon the flagstones. She held onto Kevin's arm, prompting a nervous gap-toothed smile from the broad-shouldered teenager.
Wendy fixed her hair and cleared her throat. "Y-yeah, I- I gotta be honest, I- I'm not sure I was prepared for things to get this gnarly."
Then, they heard the familiar refrain of an approaching vehicle on rails. The hum of the trackwork above the subterranean complex was unmistakable. They exchanged a worried glance - almost instinctively preparing for a fight with whatever was on its way.
Then, a familiar laugh echoed from deep within the underground tunnels, soundtracked by the sounds of a chittering engine and backfiring exhaust.
"Yehehehe!"
It immediately disarmed them.
Stan scoffed. "McGucket? What the hell's he doin' here? On that freakin' rustbucket?"
"QUESTION." Dan piped up. "WHAT ARE THE BRAKES LIKE ON THAT THING?"
"Barely existent." Ford replied.
"SO WHAT IF IT HITS THE TRAIN WRECK?!"
The old scientist's eyes widened. "I- hm."
"I mean, it's McGucket," Stan shrugged. "He's pretty resilient."
"Oh my gosh! Look at all of these pretty blue liiights! I wish I could use both eyes to look at them!"
Stan and Pacifica both flinched.
The Northwest heir went pale and ran back towards the laboratory. "Oh nononono-"
"Sweetcheeks!" Stan gasped, following in quick succession.
Ford blinked and looked to Dipper and Mabel with a wrinkled nose. "Sweetcheeks?"
"Isn't it adorable?!" Mabel chirped, clenching her hands together in very genuine excitement - acting entirely as if she wasn't standing in front of a pierced lump of seemingly deceased interdimensional detritus.