Another day at the newly re-re-opened Mystery Shack. Even though it hadn’t even been a week, business had been doing fairly well, all things considered. Customers were steady, eager to have their fortunes told or look at a stuffed gorilla in underpants.
Closing time was around the corner and the shack was virtually empty, save for one... well, it wouldn’t be quite right to call him a customer, would it?
“Grunkle Stan?!”
Or not. When he turns around, Dipper can spot the minor yet glaring differences between the man before him an the one he mistook him for. (For how much they looked alike, the way he carried himself alone was enough to differentiate them.) But before the old man could get a word in, Dipper quickly apologizes.
“Sorry, I thought you were someone else. You just... you look a lot like someone I know. It’s... kind of a creepy resemblance, actually.”
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