25ENJOY ~
DIPPER PINES:
It couldn't have been more than a hour before I heard faint footsteps in the room Mabel & I shared. My heart immediately started doing an intense jumping routine & I tried to even my breathing as the steps grew closer to the side of my bed. I was about to throw a punch, but by the time I did all I caught was a glimpse of a door closing in front of me. I slid into my sneakers, threw on my blue vest on, & grabbed my blue pine tree hat. Word of advice. If you think there's an intruder breaking into your home, it's best that you keep yourself hidden, call the cops, & never involve yourself in a possible crime scene. I took all of this into consideration when I realized it was already too late. I was following the guy, but only because I was curious as to what he wanted.
The dark, looming, bulky figure went downstairs to the living room, with me slowly on his trail. I was surprised to find that the living room was clean. The disastrous rubble made from the hurricane winds out of a green vortex earlier was organized into neat piles of planks, concrete, & broken furniture. I then quickly saw a big, round, snoring man curled up on the cushions of a missing couch. Oh Soos. The poor guy probably stayed up half the night cleaning up. If I didn't think that we were possibly in danger I would've probably woken him up & tell him to go sleep in the extra guest bedroom. I was lead to the Mystery Shack's gift shop by the unknown figure. The were lights on.
Odd.
Who in their right mind would want to possibly be caught drifting in a gift shop around 3 AM in the morning? There wasn't anything important there. Just inventory already stocked for the people who would get caught in the tourist trap. A museum full of lame, fake, supposedly 'legendary' creatures. None of which were compared to the real monsters lurking in Gravity Falls. Grunkle Stan would take any profit made, put it in a heavily locked safe in his office, & made sure that the safe was always two rooms away fromthe gift shop. I slowly crept toward the entrance & squinted once I peered through the door that was conveniently open by a few inches.
I wasn't surprised to find an intruder, but rather an old man probably in his late 50's, wearing rimmed horn glasses, a brown trench coat, black pants & boots. He held a dark red field journal in his beefy pair of hands both which consisted an extra finger. Great Uncle Ford. I patted down my vest realizing he took the journal that I had. That might've explained who was lurking in the room Mabel & I shared. I clicked my tongue. I knew it wasn't mine, but I had formed some sort of personal attatchment to the journal. It was the same one I found when I first came to Gravity Falls, Oregon. It had made what I thought to believe a ruined summer into a better one. Why did my Great Uncle Ford need it back? I almost let out a sighof relief until I heard the start of a gruesome argument. Grunkle Stan & a voice I've come to known as Rick Sanchez. What was Rick still doing here?
"MY fault?" Stan shouts. "How is this ANY of MY fault? You should be pointing fingers at Poindexter over there! He built the damn thing & refused to destroy it in the first place!"
I heard a belch which I can only assume was Rick. "OH! Right. My mistake. Y-Y-You're BOTH fucking idiots messing with things that you can't even begin to understand in your similar thinking, overcooked, shit for brains!"
"YOU WANNA GO, STRING BEAN?" Stan balled his fists in the air.
"B-B-Bring it on you neanderthal!"
"STANLEY! Don't you DARE throw that fist!" My Great Uncle Ford interrupted. "And Sanchez, please! Stop provoking my brother into meaningless fights & stop using such foul language in front of the child." He then heaves a sigh.
For a brief panicking moment I thought Ford had discovered me behind the gift shop's door, but then I heard a very whiny, grief stricken voice, "It's all right. Y-You get use to it." A teenaged boy no older than me was standing by the cashier counter. He was wearing a plain yellow short sleeved tee, jeans, & white dirt smudged shoes. He seriously looked tired because of the dark circles under his eyes, he also looked distressed, holding his upper arm like it was in pain.
Great Uncle Ford frowned. "Not under this roof!" He said. "Morty, my dear boy, how is your shoulder?"
It looked like he had a lot of effort to form a smile on his face. Morty replied with, "Still sore." Before he could say anything else Rick got in between.
"He's FINE." He let's out a belch & says, "Now are y-y-you gonna get this shit show started? Or what?"
"Honestly Sanchez. I can't believe you! How dare you involve your grandson, who is in such pain, in dangerous things, like one of your many galaxy wide known hair brained schemes, knowing he could be killed? Have you no shame?"
I thought Rick was going to slug my Great Uncle Ford with the threatening look he gave him, but Rick simply pulled a sleep deprived Morty with him toward a vending machine & said, "Like this."
"He needs to have that shoulder taken care of!"
"Y-Yeah. Popping a few pain pills should do JUST the trick."
"He needs X-RAYS & support for that shoulder!"
"FOR THE LOVE OF MY NON-EXISTANT GOD!" Rick had let go of his grandson, & grabbed my Great Uncle Ford by the neck.
Sensing the building tension I started to shake.
"L-L-Listen you freakin' six fingered freak!" Rick burps. "You don't tell me how to take care of my grandson. All right? Y-Y-You don't hear me blabbing about YOUR nephew or niece." A second belch. "H-H-How is he by the by? Your nephew? Must looking pretty handsome with gauze on his freakin' neck!"
Ford didn't say anything. For a brief moment he looked worried. Like he was trying to figure out if Rick had threaten him in some way by using Mabel & I in Rick's sentence.
I was about ready to get in between Rick & my Great Uncle Ford. I didn't want the same thing happening to Ford like it did to my Grunkle Stan, when he got pinned down by Rick & started bleeding. Ford didn't look at all phased by the fact that he was being held by the neck with a single bony hand. He actually looked angry. Which was more than I was. I could've sworn I started hyperventilating.
Stan finally came in, shoved Rick off of Ford, & gave Rick one awful look of pure hatred. Something I've never seen from Stan before.
"You're right." Stan said in an odd, low, calm voice. "My idiot brother can't tell you how to treat your grandson." Then Stan got seriously up close & personal with Rick glaring him straight in the eye. "But you-YOU aren't allowed to mention our niece or nephew from a single foul breath you take. EVER again. Are we clear?"
There was a good solid ten seconds of silence right before my Great Uncle Ford cleared his throat. He was next to the vending machine with a slightly less tired, more spooked Morty at his side. The vending machine acts as a door to a hidden underground lab. Someone had to unlock it with a specific passcode. How did I know this? Accidentally, actually. When my sister Mabel & I thought it was the end of the world because our Grunkle Stan was a highly wanted dangerous criminal, building a doomsday device underneath the Mystery Shack.
"Sanchez." Ford begins. "You've been seeking my help to repair the interference with your intra-dimensional opening device, correct?"
"UGH! Portal gun." Rick scoffs. Not really regarding my Grunkle Stan's glare, he simply walks past him & says to my Great uncle Ford, "God damn. Y-You're such a fucking nerd. It's more like I want your tools to fix my shit."
"Enough fooling around then."
Rick rolls his eyes as he made his way to the lab down the secret staircase behind the vending machine's entrance. I've completely forgotten about Morty until he apologized for his grandfather's behavior, my Great Uncle Ford only regarded Morty with a half hearted smile. Morty then followed Rick's lead & sleepily went down the stairs. Once their footsteps stopped echoing, Great Uncle Ford turned, facing my Grunkle Stan with a seldom look of sadness.
"Thank you . . . Stanley." Ford said. "For intervening."
Stan only crossed his arms. "You might've learned a few tricks to over throw me, but learn how to stop being someone else's punching bag."
Ford gripped his field journal in his left hand so hard his knuckles turned white. All six of them. He opened & closed his mouth three times before deciding what to say. I could feel the years of bitterness, guilt, & uncomfort between my two great uncles. They've recently reunited after a few very long, very intense, decades & they can't even speak a few sentences to each other (a story with WAY too many details to tell in just a couple of words). It was kinda heartbreaking & scary to say the least. My sister Mabel was worried if she & I might end up like them. Never talking to each other. Always avoiding being in the same room together. I told her that could never happen. We got along pretty well with each other compared to our uncles & our fights were pretty meaningless most of the time. It would take a lot to break our bond, but sometimes I have to wonder . . . if that's true?
I frowned at the thought.
Ford shook his head & forced a smile. "Does that mean you admit that I'm now stronger than you , Stanley?"
Stan scoffs, "In your dreams Poindexter!"
A soft chuckle escapes from my Great Uncle Ford. "I would think not."
"I'm going to bed." Stan sighs. "I better not see that son of a bitch when I wake up later."
I immediately flipped my lid as I heard Stan walk up to the gift shop's entrance. I was literally two steps away from the stairs leading up to the attic, before I tripped on an old musty rug I've never noticed before. My face planted the floor with a THUMP! If that didn't get me trouble then . . . Ohhh boy.
"Actually, Stanley," I heard my Great Uncle Ford say. Which made Grunkle Stan stop in his tracks. He had the gift shop's door wide open, but I had quickly hidden behind a broken piece of furniture nearby before he could notice me lying on the floor. I could vaguely make out their voices, but they were so deep they were clear as day.
"I could use your help." Ford said.
I could only imagine the look of disbelief on Stan's face. "MY help? With what?"
"Opening the portal . . . "
NOTE (MORE LIKE RANT): It's been a while. Like. YEARS and a couple of months long. :l
I've grown so bored with life and watching immense amounts of cartoons and TV shows that I've switched back to reading books and terribly written fan fiction. Mostly MY terribly written fan fiction, but I do like THIS terribly written piece of work. So. I added a new chapter.
I think I might've dragged this chapter a little too long, but I hope I made everyone's motives clear.
- Dipper wants to know who the hell Rick is, why he knows Stan & Ford
- Rick want his portal gun fixed, there's some interferences going on with his dimension traveling
- Stan surprisingly doesn't want any trouble, he wants to keep Dipper & Mabel away from Rick
- Ford as you know by the end, wants to re-open his portal
- AND I WANT SOME STANCHEZ FLUFF HAPPENING SOON -COUGH- Kidding. Mostly. :l (Kinda got pulled in by the fan base)
ANYWAYS. COMMENT, FAVORITE, FOLLOW, SHARE, or WHATEVER. Doesn't really matter to me, BUT IT'LL BE SERIOUSLY APPRECIATED. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING.