Pining Away
Page 1
Copyright © 2014 Disney Enterprises, Inc.
Cover design © 2014 Disney Enterprises, Inc.
All rights reserved. Published by Disney Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney Press, 1101 Flower Street, Glendale, California 91201.
ISBN 978-1-4847-1162-0
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Contents
PART ONE Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
PART TWO Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
I don’t feel so good,” Dipper said, groaning. He made a retching sound and…shot a spray of pink party string at his twin sister’s face!
“Ugh!” Mabel cried. Then she grabbed her stomach. “Grunkle Stan! What did you feed us?”
She picked up a can of purple party string and aimed it at her brother, spraying him with it. Then they both started cracking up.
Their friend Wendy walked up to them. “Guys! Guys! Something terrible happened.”
Worried, Dipper and Mabel stopped laughing for a second. Then Wendy pretended to barf green party string all over them.
“Comedy gold!” Mabel exclaimed, tossing confetti into the air. It landed on Stan’s head as he walked by.
Stan wasn’t amused.
“All right, all right! Party supplies are now off-limits,” he said, snatching the party string and confetti from them.
Dipper and Mabel couldn’t help being in a good mood. They were looking forward to the party their great-uncle Stan would be holding at his Mystery Shack. At the start of summer, Dipper and Mabel had come to Oregon to stay with their great-uncle at his shack. Nestled deep in the woods, the dusty shack was filled with strange and unusual objects, including dinosaur skulls, ancient carvings, and jars of what looked like eyeballs in liquid. The unusual items brought in the tourists, and Stan hoped they dropped all their money in the souvenir shop on the way out.
Helping out at the shack was interesting, but so far they hadn’t met too many new friends except for Wendy and Soos, who worked at the shack, and Old Man McGucket—who was certifiably insane.
So when Grunkle Stan announced that he was having a party and inviting all of the kids in Gravity Falls, Dipper and Mabel were excited. They spent the afternoon helping spruce up the place for the party. Wendy had blown up some balloons, and Soos hung streamers across the room.
“Mr. Pines, whose birthday is it, again?” Soos asked Stan.
“Nobody’s,” Stan replied. “I thought this party might be a good way to get kids to spend money at the shack.”
He proudly unrolled an old Pin the Tail on the Donkey poster.
“Nice!” Soos said.
“The young people in this town want fun? I’ll smother ’em with fun!” said Stan.
Soos might have been impressed, but Dipper knew that his Grunkle Stan was a little, well, out of touch.
“Maybe comments like that are why kids don’t come to the Mystery Shack,” Dipper said, pouring a cup of Diet Pitt Cola for Mabel.
“Hey, hey!” Stan said, grabbing the soda bottle from him. “How about you make yourself useful and copy these fliers?”
He handed Dipper a clipboard with fliers on it that read PARTY AT THE MYSTERY SHACK. KIDS AND TEENAGERS WELCOME. FREE?
“Oh boy!” said Mabel. “A trip to the copier store!”
Soos popped up behind her. “Calendars, mugs, T-shirts, and more! They got it all at the copier store!” he said in a singsong voice. “That’s not their slogan. I just really feel that way about the copier store.”
“Save the trouble,” Stan said. “You know that old copier in my office? I finally fixed the old girl up. Good as new!”
So they headed off to the shack’s dank and dusty storage room. They pulled the cover off the copy machine and moths fluttered out.
Mabel gasped. “Butterflies!”
The copier looked like a hunk of junk. It was covered in dust, dented all over, and held together with duct tape.
“Does it even work?” Dipper asked. He lifted the lid and leaned on the glass so that he could press a button on the control panel.
The copier turned on, and the glass lit up with a green glow. The machine whirred and scanned Dipper’s arm.
Poof! The machine sparked, and clouds of black smoke poured out. When the smoke cleared, a piece of paper slid out onto the tray, showing a clear image of Dipper’s arm.
“Success!” Mabel said, picking up the paper.
Suddenly, the paper moved in Mabel’s hand. Startled, she dropped it. It fell to the floor, and the copy of Dipper’s arm began to change. First, color crept into the black-and-white image. Then the picture transformed into a real-life 3-D arm and started to rise from the paper!
“Aaaaaah!” Dipper and Mabel screamed.
The arm lifted itself straight up in the air, then slammed down onto the floor, dragging itself toward a terrified Dipper and Mabel. The arm crawled closer…and closer…and closer.…
“Stay back!” Dipper yelled. Then he grabbed Mabel’s soda and tossed it onto the arm.
The arm began to bubble and sizzle. Then it completely disintegrated. Dipper turned to his sister.
“Oh my gosh, Mabel. I think this copier can copy human beings!”
“Do you realize what this means?” Mabel asked. “Blaaaaaaah!”
Then she zapped him in the face with purple party string.
didn’t bother to tell Grunkle Stan about the creepy copier. They had encountered lots of strange things there in the woods of the Pacific Northwest, but Stan said he didn’t believe any of the stories. Sure, he ran a Mystery Shack filled with mystical items, but those were just for gullible tourists.
So Dipper and Mabel finished copying the fliers and took them back to Stan in the party room. Everything looked party-ready, from the strings of lights and balloons to the purple metallic star ornaments. The dance floor was polished to perfection and ready for dancing. Grunkle Stan gathered his party team around him: Dipper, Mabel, Soos, and Wendy.
“Okay, party people—and Dipper,” he said, and Dipper frowned. “Let’s talk business. Soos, because you’ll work for free, and you begged, I’m letting you be DJ.”
“You won’t regret it, Mr. Pines,” Soos said. “I got this book to teach me how to DJ r-r-r-r-ight.”
Soos held up the book: HOW TO DJ R-R-R-R-IGHT BY DJ SCRATCH TRAX.
“Not encouraging,” Stan said. “Wendy, you and Mabel are working the ticket stand.”
“What?” Mabel cried. “But, Grunkle Stan, this party is my chance to make new friends!”
“I can work with Wendy,” Dipper said quickly.
His heart beat a little faster as he said it. He’d had a crush on Wendy ever since he first saw her. He knew it was probably hopeless; she was fifteen, and he wasn’t even technically a teenager yet. And she was taller than him. And always seemed to have a boyfriend. But still…he kept
on pining away.
“You do realize if you do, you gotta commit to staying at the ticket stand with Wendy,” Stan said firmly. “No getting out of it. Just the two of you. Alone. All night.”
Dipper glanced over at Wendy. She was spray-painting a funny face on Soos’s belly. He wiggled it to make the face move, and Wendy and Mabel cracked up.
Dipper sighed. Wendy was the girl of his dreams!
“I promise,” he told Stan.
Dipper didn’t have much time. He ran up to the room he and Mabel shared in the attic of the Mystery Shack. First he needed a plan. Then he needed to make himself look good for Wendy. He was gargling with mouthwash when Mabel walked up and startled him. “Ah! What?” he asked.
Mabel grinned and started to talk in a goofy guy voice. “Uh, I can work the counter with you, Wendy. Let’s kiss!” She made kissing noises.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want.” Dipper straightened his bow tie in the mirror. “But I have devised a plan to make sure my night with Wendy goes perfect.”
“Plan? You’re not making one of those overcomplicated listy things, are you?” Mabel asked.
“It’s not overcomplicated,” Dipper insisted. He took the list from his pocket and unfolded it…and unfolded it…and unfolded it. It was so long that it touched the floor. “‘Step six: getting to know each other with playful banter.’ Banter is like talking, but smarter.”
“That sounds like a dumb idea for poop heads,” said Mabel.
“See, this isn’t banter,” said Dipper, gesturing from himself to Mabel. “This is what I want to avoid with Wendy. The final step is to ask her to dance.” Then Dipper grinned as he imagined a perfect night with Wendy:
Wendy and Dipper were on the dance floor, dancing to a slow song.
“Oh, Dipper!” Wendy exclaimed as he dipped her. “I’m so happy you decided to work the ticket stand with me. You’re so organized! Show me that checklist again.”
Dipper pulled his long checklist from his pocket.
Wendy swooned as Dipper’s fantasy dissolved.
“If I follow steps one through eleven,” he said, “nothing can get in my way!”
“Dipper, you’re the one getting in your way,” Mabel told him. “Why can’t you just walk up and talk to her like a normal person?”
“Step nine, Sister!” Dipper said triumphantly, pointing to the list: Step 9: TALK LIKE A NORMAL PERSON.
Mabel shook her head. Her brother was hopeless!
The twins went downstairs. Dipper headed outside to the ticket booth, where lots of kids were lined up to enter the dance. Inside, Soos was playing tunes while a glittery disco ball spun from the ceiling, sending light spinning around the room. Stan wore his best white disco suit, tapping his foot to the beat and charging an exit fee for anyone who wanted to leave the party.
Outside, Dipper fidgeted at the ticket table. He had to put his plan into action.
“Step six: casual banter,” he whispered to himself. He ducked under the table to look at his checklist. Then he sat back up and turned to Wendy.
“So, here’s a casual question.” His voice cracked. “What’s your favorite type of snack food?”
“Oh man, I can’t just pick one,” Wendy replied.
“No way! Mine too!” Dipper blurted out.
Wendy looked confused. “Wait. What?”
“Uh, I mean, I mean…” Dipper coughed nervously and ducked under the table again. “New topic! New topic!” he muttered to himself.
Inside, Mabel scanned the party for some possible new friends. She saw two right away: one girl had forks taped to the fingers on her right hand, and the other girl had a large lizard perched on her shoulder.
Mabel approached them. “Wow! You’ve got an animal on your body! I’m Mabel.”
“Hi, I’m Grenda!” the girl with the lizard said in a deep voice. “This is Candy.”
“Why do you have forks taped to your fingers?” Mabel asked Candy.
Candy smiled and dipped her fork hand into the popcorn bowl on Grenda’s lap. When she pulled it out, she had a piece of popcorn on each fork. “Improvement of human being,” she said, and she and Grenda laughed.
Mabel grinned. “I’ve found my people,” she whispered.
From his DJ stand, Soos lowered the music. He started reading aloud from his book: “‘Remember, dudes: whoever “party hardy-iest” gets the party crown. Most applause at the end of the night wins.’”
He held up the jeweled crown, which glittered under the disco lights. The girls gasped. It was beautiful!
Then a blond girl marched up to Soos’s DJ stand. “Party crown? I’ll take that, thank you very much!”
“Who’s that?” Mabel asked her new friends.
“The most popular girl in town. Pacifica Northwest,” Candy replied.
“I always feel bad about myself around her,” Grenda said.
“Uh, I can’t just give you the crown,” Soos told Pacifica. “It’s sort of a competition thing.”
Pacifica sneered and took the mic from him. “Honestly, who’s gonna compete against me?” she asked. She pointed at Candy and Grenda. “Fork girl? Lizard lady? Ha!”
Pacifica’s friends laughed along with her.
“Hold me, Candy!” Grenda hugged her friend.
“Our kind isn’t welcome here,” Candy said sadly.
Mabel got a determined look on her face. She marched up to Soos. “Hey! I’ll compete!” she said, and then she turned to Pacifica and smiled. “I’m Mabel.”
“That sounds like a fat old lady’s name,” Pacifica said.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Mabel said, still smiling.
Pacifica’s eyes narrowed. “May the best partier win.”
“Nice meeting you!” Mabel said, waving cheerfully as Pacifica slowly danced backward. Then she lowered her voice. “She’s going down.”
The crowd clapped and cheered as Mabel and Pacifica got ready to see who could “party hardy-iest.” The applause drifted outside to Dipper and Wendy.
“Wow, sounds like the party’s getting nuts,” Wendy said. She stood up and looked through the window. “I’ve gotta get in there. Cover for me?”
“Um, well, I…” Dipper stammered. This wasn’t how the plan was supposed to go.
“Thanks, man!” Wendy said, and darted inside. Soon she was dancing under the disco lights.
Dipper couldn’t stand it. He was supposed to be in there, dancing with Wendy! On the ticket table, he turned the OPEN side of the sign to the CLOSED side.
“I’ll be back shortly,” he told the kids in line. Then he felt something yank on his collar.
“What are you doing, kid?” Grunkle Stan barked, holding Dipper two feet off the ground while his legs dangled. “These suckers aren’t gonna rip themselves off. You promised, remember?”
Dipper sighed. “Yeah.”
Stan dropped him and stomped away. Dipper looked longingly through the window at the party room, where Wendy was still dancing.
“If only I could be two places at once,” he said, and the party fliers flapped in the breeze next to him. They reminded him of the copier machine.
Two places at once. That was it! He kept up the CLOSED sign and quickly snuck into the Mystery Shack’s old storage room. He lifted the lid off the copier, climbed onto the glass, and pressed the button.
“I wonder if this is a good idea.” The copier whirred and the eerie green light glowed through the glass. The machine scanned his body, and when it finished, he jumped off to see a Dipper-sized piece of paper slide from the copier.
It looked like a facedown picture of Dipper. Then color crept into the image and it came to life, rising off the floor. It turned to face Dipper, who gazed in awe at the copier clone he had created. It was like looking into a 3-D mirror.
“Whoa! I have a really
big head!” said Dipper.
both Dippers said at the same time. Then they chuckled. “Sorry, you first. Stop copying me!”
Dipper and his clone laughed. The machine had made a copy that not only looked like Dipper but thought just like him, too. So Dipper’s clone was saying everything Dipper would say.
Dipper took a black marker and wrote a number 2 on the clone’s hat. “I will call you Number Two,” Dipper said.
“Definitely not. You know what name I’ve always wanted?” the clone asked.
Of course Dipper knew. He and the clone had the exact same mind.
“Tyrone!” Dipper and his clone said together.
“Okay, Tyrone, let’s get down to business,” Dipper said, remembering why he had copied himself in the first place. “I’m thinking you cover for me at the ticket stand while I ask Wendy to dance.”
Tyrone nodded. “I know the plan, buddy!”
Dipper frowned. “Hey, we’re not going to get jealous and turn on each other like the clones in the movies, are we?”
“Dipper, please. This is you you’re talking about,” Tyrone said. “Plus, you can always disintegrate me with water.”
Dipper grinned. “Yeah!”
So Tyrone went outside to work the ticket stand while Dipper strolled up to Wendy on the dance floor.
“Great news, Wendy,” he said. “I got somebody to cover the concessions for me.”
Wendy turned to him, smiling. “That’s awesome. You can hang out with me and Robbie. Robbie, you remember Dipper from the convenience store?”
A tall teen turned to face them. His black hair hung over his eyes, and he had an electric guitar strapped to his back. Behind him, a silver-and-red mountain bike leaned against the wall.
“Uh, no,” Robbie said in a dull voice. Then he took the guitar from its case and played some licks on it. “Wendy, check out my new guitar.”
Wendy’s eyes lit up. “Whoa, cool!”