We'll Meet Again...

Warnings: None??

Word count: 1447

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dipper came barreling down the stairs with an excited expression. He ran into me on the way out of the house, jumping up and down happily. "Dipper? What's got you so energetic?" I ask, adding in a jokey manner, "You're acting a bit like Mabel."

Dipper brought me outside, far from grandpa's large, prying ears. "I found out who the author is," he exclaimed in a hushed whisper. Now he's got me excited. The author is somehow connected to me in a way because of my six fingers and the six-fingered hand on the cover of the journal.

"Who is it?" I ask, curious beyond imagination.

"Fiddleford McGucket," he states very clearly. I'm a bit confused. He doesn't seem like... the scholarly type whatsoever.

"The town hillbilly?" I pause. Last I saw, McGucket was digging through the trash to find a blanket for his pregnant raccoon wife, mumbling something about her being in labor. Dipper must be wrong or something because it doesn't feel right. But, maybe he is right. The old man does make a lot of robots, even if they aren't morally right robots.

"Let's go get Mabel and Soos, then we'll go see McGucket and find out if I'm correct, which I probably am," he grinned, boasting just a little. We head back inside, ignoring grandpa when he complains to us about the state of the bathroom. We'll probably clean it when we get home. Probably.

Mabel, Wendy, and Soos were in the gift shop, goofing off and telling jokes. "What's up, bro-bro?" Mabel asked, seeing just how excited Dipper looks. Wendy leans forward on the counter a little, waving to the boy.

"McGucket is the author. McGucket is. THE author," Dipper emphasized, rambling on and on about how he must be some secret genius, how smart it was to disguise himself as an idiot, etc.

Mabel laughs, "Slow down, Dipper. You're going a hundred million bajillion miles an hour." Mabel jumped up and down, saying, "I'll try to match your speed. Continue." They talk for a minute, buzzing in excitement as they seem to talk on a wavelength only they seem to understand.

"I guess it's a twin thing, dude," Soos concludes, watching the two of them with me. Wendy laughs a little, looking around for her jacket. Soos puts some money in the vending machine and presses some buttons that command a bag of chips to fall down into the little compartment. He leans into the little flap and pulls them out.

"I guess," I nod. Then they stop buzzing.

"Let's find McGucket!" Dipper yelled, "Soos is driving!" He races Mabel out the door, shouting, "Shotgun!"

"I wanted shotgun, Dipper!" Mabel raced after him. I glance back at Soos, who still looks confused, but runs toward the truck. I more or less speed walk towards them.

"Who says I don't want shotgun?" Wendy called after them, running to the car, but inevitably being beaten by the two tweens, sighing as she sits in the back.

"Wait up!" I yell after them, watching as Mabel and Dipper fight over the shotgun. "If you're going to argue over it, I'm going to get shotgun," I glare and Dipper sighs, letting his sister sit there.

We make it to McGucket's... house in the junkyard, where he happens to be out and about, yelling at a few vandalizing teenagers; some of Wendy's friends. McGucket sighs and mumbles some confusing hillbilly mumbo jumbo.

"McGucket!" Dipper exclaimed, holding up the journal, "You're the author??" McGucket looks quite confused, as usual for the old man. "You can drop the act, McGucket. We know," Dipper sighs.

"What act? I'm not a gosh darn genius," McGucket danced a little, hootin' and hollering, still in his own world. McGucket led us into his little garbage shack, warning us not to touch his rusty nails and all that. A raccoon hides behind a large piece of metal. I try not to let anything brush up against me.