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"When people ask me 'How was your summer' or 'What did you do this summer', I'll be honest, I don't know what to tell them. The closest I have to say is 'I had the privilege to have the most exciting summer of my life with my grand uncle in Oregon'. Now, I now what you might be thinking- 'How is that exciting? Sounds like any other boring family trip', right? Well, you'd be wrong. I was lucky; lucky just being there this summer, seeing things that no one else has seen in their lives, fighting for truth and justice, and even falling in love."

The author, a twelve year old boy sitting in front of his computer in his room, leaned back from reading the first paragraph he had written, and shook his head. He sighed as he looked to the screen.

"It sounds conceited," Dipper Pines groaned as he instantly deleted the entire paragraph without hesitation. "Just when I thought that sixth grade was demeaning, seventh comes in for the wind up: aaand it's more stupid 'how was your summer' work."

Dipper Pines was a boy of twelve. He wasn't exactly tall for his age, but he wouldn't let people talk him down from being at least average height. He was right in the middle of standard young teen image, but lacked any physical finesse. His brown curly hair tucked under his hat, a blue and white colored baseball cap he got while at his stay with his uncle.

The young Pine had not been home from school for an hour when he decided he would begin writing his assignment from today. Habit prompted him to begin the work as soon as possible, and despite being a 'lame topic', he found himself slaving away before a monitor light lit keyboard in his dark room.

Summer had come and gone. What he could only describe as the greatest time of his entire twelve years of life were over. Battles against zombies, assisting mermen escape pools, and a conspiracy for the ages tied together intriguingly to his fondest memories. Now, back in his home town, life was grey and flat by a long shot comparison. He even wondered if the normal people in Piedmont had secrets at all, let alone conspiracies. This life was totally dull, and he felt each hour pass turn him towards lethargy*.

As he dazed about the weeks before, a sudden shout from below in his home shook the floor. He turned looking to the door, where he knew a hallway connected to an overlook to the living room and staircase. Dipper frowned worriedly, thinking as to what topic the shouts from below could be. He shook his head.

"It... isn't my business," he repeated to himself for the third time that evening. He turned from his computer, seeing a single framed picture on the desk. There, looking at him was his 'Grunkle Stan', himself, and of course-

"DIPPERSAUCE!" a girl shouted as she nearly kicked in the door, splashing light into the room.


"Yes, lord of dark bedrooms, Dipper the sullen," Mabel snickered as she skipped into his room and leapt onto his bed. She wore her favorite purple sweater with and shooting star with a rainbow trailing behind it.

"Hey, don't-"

"Don't what?" she grinned, and kicked her shoes off on his bed. She was the twin of Dipper Pines, physically. Barely a millimeter taller than her brother, she was endlessly energetic and bouncy, incapable of the phrase 'calm down'.

"C'mon, Mabel," Dipper groaned," you sweat like twice as much as me on your feet."

"All the fun I make creates fun-residue. Your bed could use some!" she told him as her braces shined from the light from the hallway, smiling cheekily at her brother. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the computer. "What are you doing on the computer already? Don't you want to... like, search for a gnome or something? I think our neighbor's garden gnomes are spies. Maybe they're connected with Jeff... agents of stealth, in our neighbors backyards..." Mabel added in a serious undertone, looking at the blinds-covered window.

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