#gravity falls ff

"Grunkle Stan! We found a dog!" A big, black ball of fur was sitting in the gift shop, drooling all over the floor of the Mystery Shack. “Great, now let him out,” Stanley said with distaste. “But he’s lost! We found him, so he has to stay with us, right, Droolbip?” The kids held the dog by the neck, burying their little hands in the happy animal’s thick fur. “No, don’t name him. If you name him first, he’ll never let you go. He probably has an owner.” "If he has an owner, we should put up posters saying we found a dog and take care of him in the meantime." "No, Dipper, we’re taking him to the shelter." - The boy pursed his lips, furrowing his brow in a grimace. He didn’t care; Stanley didn’t want another furry friend on his conscience. "Pleeease, Grunkle Stan! You’re our favorite uncle, right, Dip Dop?" The kids looked at him with puppy-dog eyes, clinging tightly to the huge dog. The creature wagged its tail happily, delighted by the attention. “No,” he declared. “You know very well that Ford reacts badly to animals when he’s… scared.” “Mr. Furball Abuelity is doing fine.” “Pumpkin, that cat turns into a wall the moment he sees Ford.” “Ford himself wasn’t any better,” he said, “after he nearly killed the cat—terrified of his own wild side, he stopped coming out of the basement". “What if I lash out at the kids this time?” he whispered. Stanley couldn't always be there for Ford to protect him from his demons. "Grunkle Ford would get a therapy dog" Mabel suggested. The kids didn’t know that during their trip, the brothers had applied for one. Despite taking medication prescribed by his psychiatrist, Ford was still nervous and had trouble sleeping. The doctor had suggested a dog that would provide a sense of security and, in case of an emergency, alert the scientist to his hallucinations. "Forgive me, your uncle has already had some experience with a few of them.” - He saw hope in the children’s eyes. Mabel gazed admiringly at Stanley’s face, while Dipper stroked the dog’s side in anticipation. Every one of the furry creatures had run away after Ford fell into that “wild” state. The scientist treated everyone except his brother as a threat. "They all ran away..." But the kids looked at each other. “So, since the dogs run away from Ford, and he runs away from them, does that mean Droolbip can stay?” Dipper said, more as a statement than a question. “For Belgian waffles’ sake, just don’t cry when this furry friend and your uncle get into a fight.

"What d'ya mean you can't sell me radioactive material?!" Stan growled and squinted at the skinny suited man in front of him, who was meticulously looking through a stack of papers. "I'm sorry sir, we aren't authorized to sell that to civilians," He looked at Stan through his glasses with no hint of remorse in his voice. "Unless you have the proper papers and authorization, we cannot sell this to you." "Oh come on!" He straightened his fez urgently, "Gimme a break, you probably make deals like this all the time, just slip 'em around back and I'll pay you double for it." "Are you going to leave, Sir, or am I going to have to call the police?" The clerk snapped with contempt. Stan loomed threateningly over the small desk, staring him down. The clerk flinched when he pushed himself back, "I'll let myself out." Stan growled as he slammed the door behind him, cursing the fates and everything else unfortunate enough to cross his path. He was at a loss, it seemed. Everywhere he went the walls were closing in, time was ticking, and it was beginning to wear him down, boxing him in to only one option. Stealing it. Normally he would have no problems doing that, but stealing radioactive waste was bound to catch unwanted attention. And the thought of being within days of his 30 year goal, only to have it brutally ripped away, was to much to bear. No, he'd find another, less risky option. He'd have to! There were still other ways... Right? He walked to his car and jerked the door open, considering his choices. He looked up at the sky. It was getting late. The Shack would be empty and visitor free, Mabel and Dipper were at some weird party at Northwest Manor. The perfect setting. Everything he had worked towards hinged on this decision. The anger cooled into a tempered rock in his gut. "Well," Stan said to himself as he climbed into his car, "It's now or never, I'm not gonna get a better chance than this." ------------------------------ Waking up at 7:00 in the morning after staying up past 5:00 in the morning is no fun, especially if staying asleep is an option. Stan screwed his eyes shut, but the need to get up was fueled by the fact the kids were digging around in the shack. While he was certain they wouldn't be able to get to certain places, the voice of his great niece leading her brother to one of the upstairs closets compelled him to get an early start. "Nosey twins." Stan grumbled as he tied on his robe. Come on, it was Sunday for crying out loud, plus they had gotten in late from the party. Didn't Mabel ever sleep? Manic ball of energy. He chuckled to himself as he walked down the hall, catching the tail end of their conversation. "Bro, Bro, we're both thinking it." Mabel said, her smile widening in anticipation. "Crazy rooftop fireworks party!" They shouted in unison. "Not so fast kids!" Stan stepped up behind them, "There's no way on earth you're setting off those dangerous, illegal fireworks..." He looked at their faces and grinned, "...Without me." The twins shouted and whooped exuberantly as they pulled the box down the hall. Stan followed behind carrying a few handfuls of firecrackers and extreme bottle rockets. They looked so happy and carefree, he didn't have the heart to tell them yet. He'd shoot some fireworks, and enjoy himself. Give the kids one last good day. It could wait. He'd tell them later. -------------------------------------- Just a one-shot that popped into my head, enjoy!