Author's Note:

Manly Dan SPEAKS IN ALL CAPS. Just so you know.

Also, this story ties rather closely into my main Fanfiction; the Forest of Daggers: www fanfiction net/s/12486618/1/Dipper-Wendy-and-the-Forest-of-Daggers

In Chapter 17 of that Story, Dipper and Wendy (SPOILERS) steal an ancient, haunted UFO, and use it to escape a pack of killer robots intent on sawing them to pieces. (The first 16 Chapters explain why that makes a sort of sense.) So it is with that adventure as a backdrop that this One-shot begins. A spin-off, if you will, but one which may add to the larger narrative in unexpected ways.

So if you haven't read my big story, prepare for a small dosage of confusion toward the start and end. But otherwise...

Enjoy.

An honest-to-goodness alien spaceship came careening out of the sky, directly toward the town. At the last possible second, it pulled up and curved away, washing a hot wind over the few people on the streets. It swerved unstably side to side through the sky, as its pilot attempted to get bearings. Then, picking a direction, it tilted on one end and raced off toward the hills, slicing off a couple treetops as it went. When it passed over the Mystery Shack, it took a sudden drop in altitude, bumped the side of the building, and smashed into the ground upside-down.

Its engines wined tiredly as it rolled itself back right-side-up, and finally came to a rest right between Soos' truck and the Stans' RV, like just another car in the parking lot.

The saucer's canopy opened.

"Ugh…" Dipper dropped the alien instruction manual and stood up sorely. He rubbed his arms and groaned. "Ow…"

"Bro…" Wendy let go of the controls, and stood up from the pilot's seat. Her legs could barely hold her, and her inner ear was still spinning like a top from the flight's antics. "That was… Bleh…"

"Yeah… Bleh…" Dipper agreed, and reached up to make sure the trapper hat was still balanced on his head.

"Let's… Uh…" Wendy took off the alien HUD helmet, and dropped it on the seat where she'd been sitting. Then she pulled a blue and white baseball cap out of her pocket, and put it where the helmet had been. "Yeah… Let's not… Not do that again."

They both crawled out of the vehicle, limped over to the Mystery Shack porch, and plopped themselves down on the sofa, where they could massage and stretch their sore bodies in relative peace.

After about 5 minutes of sitting there groaning, Wendy produced a pair of sodas, and tossed one to Dipper. They each took a long drink. Finally Dipper spoke up again. "Yeah… And if we do do that again… I'll drive."

"What? No…" She told him. "That was fun, man… I mean… I mean, that wasn't bad, was it?"

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "…You drive spaceships about as well as you drive cars."

"Yeah, well…" She struggled for a retort. "Well… You read Alien-ese about as well as you read Spanish. 'That's the reactor ignition' you said. 'push that button' you said. 'try those switches over there' you said… But was it any of those?"

"No… No, we made it out by dumb luck…"

"Yeah…"

"Ugh… Sorry."

She blinked. "Yeah… You know what, I'm sorry too. I totally forgot all about the rotation controls there during takeoff. And I guess I am a pretty bad pilot all-in-all…"

"Ahh… It's fine… It's just barf. It washes out…"

They were silent for a minute more.

"I had fun though." Dipper said.

"Yeah." She instantly agreed. "Me too."

"So…" He shrugged. "What now? Are we try that thing again tomorrow?"

"Uh. No." She shook her head. "That thing's gravity drive does terrible things to your joints. I feel stretched and crushed at the same time now… Like… Like… I just need to take a day to relax."

"Oh yeah… Relax… Uh…"

Dipper took a deep breath. Then another deep breath. "So…" He started, but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Wendy, uh… We've been doing these adventures together for a while now, and uh…" His courage ran out about that time, and he stumbled over his words. His heart began to beat faster and faster, and his head got a little dizzy and itchy. "I was wondering if tomorrow… Uh… If… Uh…"

"What?" She frowned at him.

"Uh…" The dizzy itchiness was getting a little too much to bear. "Uh…"

"What?" She repeated.

"Umm… Never mind."

"No no no no!" She insisted. "You started a sentence, so you have to finish it. That's, like, one of the rules of the universe. Sentences need to be finished. Else they don't mean anything except 'Hey! Look at me! I'm a moron who can't finish sentences!'"

"UH!" He squirmed nervously. "No, it's not… Never mind. I changed my mind."

"Were you going to ask me something?"

"Uhh…"

"Ask it."

"UH!"

"Ask IT! Ask IT! Ask IT!" She began to chant.

"No...!"

"Ask it." She commanded.

"Uh…"

"Ask it." She commanded again.

"UUUHHH…!"

"WHAT IS IT?! ASK IT!"

A few miles away, the Skull Fracture Bar was rather quiet. A few scattered patrons talked in hushed tones in the building's dark corners, low music played over the speakers, and one gigantic man sat alone at the bar.

"Manly" Daniel Corduroy was staring into his drink, twirling it slowly and thinking private thoughts. The rest of the people here were ignoring him, and he was fine with that. They knew from experience when his body language read 'do not disturb', so he was enjoying his moment of peace.

But then another man walked into the building. He strolled causally up to the bar, and sat down right next to Dan. "Hey." He greeted the larger man.

"GO AWAY. I'M THINKING." Dan shooed him with a snarl. He had no patience for fools today.

"Thinking about what? About the future?" The man asked.

"WHAT'S IT TO YOU?" Dan glanced harshly over at the interrupting stranger.

It was a young man, perhaps 20, with a shaggy mop of hair that drooped over his forehead, a thin little goatee, and bright brown eyes. He was wearing a tannish trench coat, thick boots, and an old, faded trapper's hat.

Dan also noticed a tape measure tucked in the man's belt. "DIDN'T YOU SEE THE SIGN?" He growled, as he gestured toward the door. "NO MINERS, NO SALESMEN, NO HANDYMEN IN HERE. BIKERS AND LOGGERS ONLY."

"Is that so?" The man glanced at the door. "And you think I'm a handyman because of my tape measure."

Dan frowned, thinking the conclusion rather obvious. "THAT'S RIGHT."

What's this guy's problem? Dan wondered. Is he trying to be a nuisance, or is he just a lunatic?

"Yeah, well… I'm not a handyman." The man explained. "And this is a time machine."

Dan blinked. "ARE YOU FEELING OKAY, BUDDY?"

"What?" The man smirked. "You don't believe me?"

"IT'S. A. TAPE. MEASURE. NOW WHY DON'T YOU SCRAM BEFORE I CALL THE NUT-HOUSE OR CALM YOU DOWN FOR GOOD."

"I can prove it."

"GO RIGHT AHEAD AND DO THAT." Dan turned back to his drink. "SOMEWHERE ELSE."

"Well…" The man pulled a sealed envelope out of his pocket. "I gave this to myself earlier… So just say something; anything. It'll already be written down in here."

"UGH… FINE THEN." Dan growled. His patience was very, very close to its end, and this freak was going to be napping on the floor in a few seconds if this little party trick didn't work out. "CRUSHED SKULLS."

The man pulled out a sealed envelope, opened it, and pulled out a paper. On the paper had been typed the words: crushed skulls.

Dan's grimace disappeared, and he frowned in a confused way. "EGG CASEROLE." He said.

The man pulled out another typed paper that said: egg casserole.

"BISCUITS AND GRAVY."

Biscuits and gravy.

"VIKING WARSHIP."

Viking warship.

"ZOMBIE El-"

The words caught on his tongue, because the man had already pulled out a paper that said zombie elephants.

Dan stared at the papers for a minute. "SO." He grunted, in as polite and business-like of a tone as he could muster. "Time traveler, huh?"

"Yep."

"HMM." Dan nodded, thinking this through. "CARE TO SHARE A DRINK?"

"Uh… Nah. I'm good. I really don't need a TUI today."

"HUH?"

"Oh, 'Timing Under the Influence'. They're pretty strict about that in the future."

"OH…" Dan finished his own drink, wiped the excess off his beard, set down the glass, and turned fully to face the young man. He crossed his arms, and looked him up and down one more time. He still didn't recognize him, although something about him was very familiar. "SO." He said. "WHO ARE YOU, MISTER?"

"Dr. Mason Pines, private investigator." The man extended his right hand.

The name 'Pines' rang true in Dan's head, and he finally remembered where he'd seen that sort of trench coat before. As he reached forward to shake Mason's hand, he counted his fingers. There was only the ordinary number, so he frowned. "DO I KNOW YOU?"

"Yeah, actually. Most of my friends call me 'Dipper'. I am… I was, that 13-year-old wimp who's always hanging out with your daughter."

"OH… YOU."

"I'm also about to be your son-in-law."

This took a few seconds to sink into Dan's brain. From there, it took him another few seconds to inhale deep enough to roar at the top of his lungs: "WHAT?!"

Every eye in the bar turned toward their table.

"MIND YER OWN BUSINESS!" Dan hollered at them.

"Only natural for fellow souls to react with curiosity toward…" Ghost Eyes muttered.

"SHUT IT WITH THE PHILOSOPHY!" He turned back to Dr. Pines, and pointed to the door. "YOU. ME. PRIVACY. NOW."

Once they were alone in a nearby alley, Dan burst on him. "YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT YOU'RE GONNA UP AND MARRY MY DAUGHETER SOMETIME IN THE FUTURE?! THAT WHAT YOU'RE SAYING, BOY?!"

Dr. Pines put his hands on his hips. "That's what I'm saying."

"AND… AND… AND SHE'S OKAY WITH THIS?! THAT? WITH YOU?"

"Well, uh… I was gonna pop the question tomorrow (my tomorrow), but I figured I should come back in time and talk to you first."

"…WHY NOT ASK ME THEN, THEN? WHY ARE YA ASKING ME YEARS BEFORE?"

"Because." Dr. Pines shrugged. "Today is June 14th, isn't it? Of 2013?"

"IT IS."

"And a UFO just flew by about half an hour ago, didn't it?"

"UH… YEAH. I THINK I HEARD THAT MENTIONED…"

"Okay. Then that means today is the day when I first ask your daughter out on a date. Today is the day that whole stupid thing starts. But I was deathly afraid of you when I was that age, so I thought I owed you a visit from the future to talk to you now."

"OKAY… OKAY, LOOK BOY." Dan put his hands on his hips. "YOU'RE CONFUSED IF YOU THINK YOU NEED TO TALK TO ME. WENDY'S A GROWN WOMAN. EVEN MORE SO BY WHENEVER YOU'RE FROM… SHE CAN MAKE HER OWN DECISIONS, AND DOESN'T NEED HER DADDY'S OKAY TO DO ANY OF THIS. YOU WANNA ASK HER OUT? YOU GO RIGHT AHEAD. YOU WANNA MARRY HER? GO AHEAD. I CAN'T STOP YA. BUT I'LL PUT YA IN THE HOSPITAL IF YOU LAY SO MUCH AS A FINGER ON HER WRONGLY. YOU UNDERSTAND? THAT'S IT."

"Right. I get that."

"AND BY 'WRONGLY'." Dan clarified. "I MEAN VIOLENTLY. OR BEFORE YOU'RE MARRIED."

"Yeah yeah, I know. Don't worry. Anyway, I'm not confused, Dan. I know you respect her decisions, and wouldn't stand in the way. Fact is; I'd do this whether I had permission or not. So no, I'm not here for your permission… I'm here for your blessing."

Dan took a step forward, until he was right in the young doctor's face. Mason didn't flinch or back away however; he stood his ground. "MY BLESSING." Dan clarified. "YOU WANT ME TO TELL YOU THAT I APPROVE."

Dr. Pines shrugged. "Yeah."

"WELL…" Dan scratched his head, thinking this through. "WELL FIRST OF ALL, YOU'RE A FULL-GROWN ADULT, AND YOU'RE STILL SHORTER THAN SHE IS NOW."

"Yeah."

"IT'S WEIRD WHEN THE DUDE IS SHORTER THAN THE GIRL. NOT NORMAL."

Mason shrugged. "Well, you're a friggin' gigantic guy. And you went and had yourself a friggin' gigantic daughter, so now she's gonna have to take what she can get. And besides, it's not something I can help."

Dan found this answer reasonable, so he grudgingly moved on to the next issue. "YOU SAID 'PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR' OR SOMETHING. WHAT'S THAT? A DETECTIVE?"

"Well, 'investigation' is kind of an umbrella term…"

"OKAY, WELL HOW IS IT? STEADY WORK? GOOD MONEY?"

"It pays the bills, I guess. Enough to raise a family on."

"YOU GOT ANY COLLEGE DEBT THERE, 'DOCTOR'?"

"Nope."

"HAVE YOU EVER WORN MAKEUP?"

"No."

"HAVE YOU EVER WORN A DRESS?"

"Not personally."

"USED FANCY SHAMPOOS OR STUFF?"

"No."

"EVER HAD A FLOWER GARDEN?"

"I do have a small culture of hemlock. For academic and practical purposes. But I don't believe I'm effeminate, if that's what you're driving at."

"OKAY… UGH…" Dan scratched his head. "YOU… YOU KNOW WHAT, HOW ABOUT WENDY? IS SHE HAPPY? HOW DOES HER LIFE LOOK NOW?"

Mason shrugged. "I think she's happy…" He reached into his coat, and pulled out a series of photographs. "I mean… She loves the life… Our… 'Adventures'… I know she likes the life. And I know she likes me. And I think she's happy. She says she is at least…"

"GIMME THOSE!" Dan snatched the photos from the young doctor's hands, and squinted down at the first one.

It showed his daughter, slightly older, sitting in a bar with a bunch of tiny gnomes. The ceiling was short and the mugs were even shorter, but she was reaching across the tiny table, and was lifting a gnome up by the collar of his shirt. She wasn't frowning at him though, she was smirking, as if to her, the whole exchange was an uproarious joke. As if she loved the whole messy business.

The next picture showed his daughter (and Mason) working on the engine of some odd vehicle. They were both smiling, and their faces and hands were covered in grease.

The next one showed them hiking through some dense forest, and they both had some laser guns at the ready. The photo's timestamp read: Guide2UnX#356: Rabid Killbilly

The next one was a selfie: them posing on top of something monstrous and dead, holding machine guns and swords. They were obviously both bloody, and bruised, and exhausted, but when he looked real hard at his daughter's eyes, he could see the triumph and joy in them.

The next picture was her standing on top of a glacier wearing a parka. She had an ice pick in her hands, heavy boots on her feet, and a heavy pack strapped to her back. She was looking away from the camera, out at the rising sun. Dan's eyes lingered for a moment on this picture, because he could tell from her pose that she was standing tall. Standing very tall. She looked… Accomplished. Confident. Proud.

Strong.

He looked through the other pictures, and saw much of the same.

In each picture, she was hip-deep in some crazy weirdness. But in each one, she looked happy.

But most of all, in each picture, she was doing something; her hands were never empty. Either she was holding an axe or an ice pick or a wrench, or a ghost scanner or a gun or a… What even was that thing? A tiny killer robot?

She was busy. She was working. It was an odd and crazy work, but it was work… And she enjoyed it enough to do it well.

Dan thought about this all for a minute. Finally he nodded, shuffled the pictures back together, and put them in his own pocket.

Mason looked at him expectantly.

But Dan didn't talk, not yet. He was thinking. Finally something seemed to cross his mind, and his brain seemed to start working very hard. Then he spun back at Mason, and pointed to his tape measure. "I NEED TO USE THAT."

"Uh…" Mason frowned nervously, not convinced that this was a good idea. "I don't know, uh… How much have you been drinking?"

"ONLY TWO OR THREE. I'M FINE."

"Well…" He fingered the device nervously. "I mean, if you need to go somewhere, I can take you. It's rated for about 1000 pounds of human meat at a time, so multiple people can use it…"

"FINE. I WANT YOU TO TAKE ME… TO APRIL 3RD, '87."

"Uh… Okay! Uh, sure…" He pulled out the control tape of the time machine, and selected the appropriate time increment. "Umm… What time of day? Morning, noon, night…?"

"LIKE, FIVE AT NIGHT MAYBE."

"Okay… Five it is. Hold onto me." He grabbed Dan's shoulder, and released the control tape. The device lit up with a bright blue aura, and then, with a sudden flash, the world faded out into a blindingly bright blur.

*VOOM*

And then light faded, and they snapped back into reality.

The ground was now soaked and muddy with the rains of Spring, the sun slightly lower in the sky, and the trees alive with the singing of birds. It being the 80s, there were fewer buildings around. But the street and the bar were still in the exact same place (both looking about the same, amazingly.)

From within the bar, there emanated the boisterous sound of loud rock music.

Dan turned and made a beeline for the building, stomping through the mud with purpose and determination. Dr. Pines followed more hesitantly. "Uh, hey Dan, what exactly are we doing here?"

"WHAT I NEED TO."

"Uh… But what though? I mean… You can make a paradox if you're not careful, do… Do you know what you're doing?"

"YES." Dan grunted as he reached the building. He elbowed his way past the bouncer, and the door crashed aside before him. His eyes swept the interior of the building, taking in everything; the sounds, the smells, the old familiar faces looking new… His eyes lingered on the bar for just a minute. A scrawny, redheaded woman was sitting there, alone on the stool, bobbing her head to the music. With an effort, Dan tore his eyes away from her, and continued deeper into the bar.

Dr. Pines got past the bouncer and came up beside him, just in time to see Dan's eyes land on a small, nearly-empty booth behind the pool table.

The man's great chest expanded as he inhaled and rushed forward. "BOYISH DAN!" He roared over the music.

A brawny, thick young man turned at the greeting; an annoyed, nervous frown spread across his beardless baby face. He flicked a dorky little curl of red hair out of his eyes. "YO, LIKE, WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM, DUDE? WHO ARE YOU?"

"BOYISH DAN…" Manly Dan reached the booth, and lowered himself down opposite the young man. "YOU SEE THAT GIRL OVER THERE?" He pointed toward the bar.

"UH…" Boyish Dan pretended he didn't.

"YOU'VE BEEN STARING AT HER FOR AN HOUR; WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?! GO UP AND TALK TO HER!"

"WHAT?! WHY DON'T YOU MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS, YOU FREAK…?! I DON'T…"

"OH, FOR THE LOVE OF…!" Dan reached across the table, grabbed the collar of Boyish Dan's jacket with both fists, and lifted him straight up out of the seat at arm's length.

"WOAH, SET ME—!"

Dan set him down on his feet, promptly and hard. Then he swung the young man around, put both hands on his back, and violently shoved him towards the bar. Boyish Dan stumbled forward off-balance, and collided full-speed with the girl from earlier. She fell off the stool, and they both tumbled over and hit the floor together, in a messy, tangled pile of flannel, red hair, spilled beer, and angry Scottish cursing.

"GEEZ." Dan grabbing Dr. Pines by the arm, pulling him along as they both exited the bar. Manly Dan shook his bearded head, scowling deeply at a job well done. "SEEMS I GOTTA DO EVERYTHING AROUND HERE…"

"Woah-HO-kay…" Dr. Pines followed along limply, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene he'd just witnessed. He felt a strange mixture of reverent respect and dumbstruck horror, though really, he wasn't sure what to think. There had to be a time-law about this somewhere…

Once they were out on the street, Dan turned back to Dr. Pines.

"OKAY." He said. "NOW I GOTTA GO TO ANOTHER TIME. CAN YOU TAKE ME THERE TOO?"

"Uh…" Dr. Pines frowned. "I guess, uh… What, do you have a bucket list or something?"

"THIS ONE'S MORE IMPORTANT. MUCH MORE. CHRISTMAS EVE. 2006." Dan said. "NINE AT NIGHT OR SO."

"Christmas Eve…? Okay, but…" Dr. Pines pulled the time machine back off his belt, and pulled out the control tape. "But you've gotta be more careful, Dan. There's paradoxes and stuff that can happen if you don't…"

"PAIR A' DUCKS? HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?"

"Paradox! Peh-ruh-docks!… It's when you go back to a known time, and purposely try to change the past. Either to make something happen that didn't actually, or stop something that actually did. It messes with the way the universe is supposed to work, and… Generally it makes fate itself go kinda wonky, usually prevents whatever you're doing, and attracts the attention of some people I'd like to avoid."

"WHAT IF MY VISIT WOULD MAKE IT HAPPEN THE WAY I REMEMBER IT HAPPENING?" Dan pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the bar. "LIKE IT JUST DID? WHAT IF I SAY EXACTLY WHAT I REMEMBER SAYING?"

"Well… Then… I guess it wouldn't be a problem at all, so long as you get all your 'lines' right…"

"WHAT IF I CAN'T REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT I SAID?"

"Uh… I guess… Well… Okay." Mason's curiosity got the better of him, and he relented. (Although he thought this day was going in a rather strange direction.) "Sure. Let's go."

He pulled out the control tape, put a hand on Dan's shoulder, and they disappeared.

When the light of the travel faded, they found themselves in the dark of night. Dan inhaled, and found the air to be perfectly cold and frigid. He looked around, blinking like a newborn. The trees were tall, dark, and thin, their naked branches entombed all over in thick drifts of snow. The flakes gently drifted to the ground around them in the yellow illumination of the street lamps, filling the air with a frigid, peaceful silence, and forcing upon all surfaces a pale cleanliness.

It was Christmas Eve, as it so happened, and strings of happy colored lights were twinkling on all the shops and businesses along the street, though most of them were closed at this point. From the church far in the distance, there echoed over the sweet sounds of Christmas carols.

All was peaceful on the quiet street; even the bar, surprisingly. An abundance of lights hung across the violent sign out front, and the gigantic, tattoo-bound bouncer wore a contented smile and a little Santa hat upon his clearly-labeled head.

Only one thing in the panorama seemed out of place: a big burly man, who mumbled and cursed weakly as he stumbled down the street from the direction of the graveyard. Instantly recognizable as a slightly-younger Manly Dan, but even louder and ruder and more thuggish, if such a thing were possible. An empty bottle of liquor was gripped in his hand, and he left uneven footprints in the snow, as he swayed to and fro.

The bouncer stepped into the giant's way just before he entered the bar. "Hey, come on Dan, my man… I think you've had enough for tonight, why don't you go home and just…"

"I'VE HAD 'NUFFA YOU IS WHAT I HAD, WHAT'S WHAT THAT!" The younger Dan thundered clumsily, as he brought his fist back to take a swing at the bouncer. "BY PAUL BUNYAN, I'LL GET PAST YOU, CHIN!"

The bouncer dodged the strike easily, and took a step back. "I have a name you know, Dan!"

"WULL MAYBE YA SHOULDA PAINTED THAT ACROSS YER FACE THEN! YOU FRIGGIN DISGRACE OF A LOUSY CLIPE-DREPE-BLANCHIN' TATTIE…"

The bouncer dodged another slow haymaker, and pushed Dan away, hoping to avoid a fight.

Just then, the older Dan stepped forward to intervene. "MANLY DAN!" He thundered. "GET OVER HERE!"

The younger Dan staggered in a circle, noticed the two time-travelers, and lurched toward them. "AIN'T NOBODY…" He blubbered. "EVER TELL MANLY DAN WHAT TA DO…"

"OH YEAH?!" The older Dan asked, as he stepped forward to be illuminated beneath a street lamp. "WELL I DON'T THINK YOU KNOW JUST WHO YOU'RE TALKIN' TO, DRUNK ME…"

Drunk Dan stopped in his tracks and stared for a few seconds. A look of horror slowly settled over his features. "SOBER ME?!" He gasped.

"THAT'S RIGHT!" Sober Dan growled. "AND I'M HERE FROM THE FUTURE, YOU RETARD! WHAT ARE YOU DOIN' OUT HERE?! IT'S CHRISTMAS!"

"YOU… IF YER FROM THE FUTURE, YOU KNOW…" Drunk Dan spat. "SHE'S… SHE'S DEAD…!" He waved his bottle back in the direction of the graveyard. "SHE'S DEAD AND SHE… AND SHE GONE AND I HAD IT UP TA HERE WITH…!"

"YEAH, SHE'S GONE! AND IS THIS MAKIN' IT HURT LESS?! EH?" Sober Dan snatched the bottle away from drunk Dan, and smashed it on the sidewalk. "IS BRINGIN' 'ER FLOWERS AND SITTIN' BY 'ER STONE GONNA BRING 'ER BACK?! YOU'VE UP AN' FORGOTTEN THE KIDS, YOU MORON! THEY'RE SITTIN AT HOME AN' THEY AIN'T HAVE NO MOMMA AND NOW THEY AIN'T HAVE NO PAPPA 'CAUSE YOU'RE OUT HERE CRYIN' IN YER' BOOZE!"

Drunk Dan released an angry war cry, and swung a punch at Sober Dan. Sober Dan took it without flinching, and then returned the favor, much harder.

Drunk Dan keeled over to his knees, nursing a black eye. Then suddenly, he put his head in his hands and began to sob. "WHAT 'AVE I DONE?!" He blubbered. "I DON'T GOT NO MORE MONEY AND THE KIDS WANT CHRISTMAS AN' NOW I CAN'T GIVE 'EM NOTHIN… THEY NEED MOM… I CAN'T EVER REPLACE 'ER, WHAT CAN I DO… WHAT CAN I DO…?"

"AIN'T NOTHIN CAN REPLACE 'ER." Sober Dan kneeled down over him and growled. "SHE'S GONE AN' SHE'S DEAD. AND THE KIDS NEED 'ER BUT THEY CAN'T HAVE 'ER. AND THEY NEED CHRISTMAS TOO BUT YA CAN'T GIVE 'EM THAT EITHER… AND THERE'S ONLY ONE THING YEH CAN DO ABOUT IT."

"WHAT…?"

"YOU SUCK IT UP, YOU COWARD!" Sober Dan snapped, with all the ferocity of a roaring bear. "YOU THROW AWAY THAT BOTTLE, AND YOU NEVER PICK IT UP AGAIN! AND THEN, YOU BE THE DAD THEY REALLY NEED! YOU GO HOME, AND YOU LOVE THEM! AND YOU TRAIN THEM! TEACH THEM TO FIGHT, TO HUNT, TRAP, FISH, HIDE, TO SURVIVE! EVERYTHING YOU KNOW! YOU'VE SEEN WHAT DEATH DOES, AND NOW THE ONLY THE THING YOU CAN DO IS MAKE DARN SURE THAT NOT ONE OF THEM WILL EVER DIE AGAIN! YOU TRAIN THEM TO SURVIVE, DAN!"

Drunk Dan sobbed one last time, then eased over, and fell unconscious on the sidewalk, face-down in the snow, among the many broken shards of his last bottle.

Mason stared at the scene, and scratched his head. "Well I guess that explains that…" He muttered to himself.

"HMPH." Sober Dan stood back up with a determined grunt, and regarded the scene for a moment or two. This had been a big night for him. The last time he'd ever been drunk. Sure, he'd had a beer or two or three in the years since, but never like this… Never like this. But for such an important event, he sure didn't remember it very well. Could never figure or recall, in all the long years since, whether or not he'd dreamt the entire thing. He'd wondered if perhaps some sad scrap of his drunken mind had given him the message. It wasn't until he met Dr. Pines that everything fell into place… And now it had come full-circle. He turned back to the young Doctor, and pointed to the Time machine. "NOW… UH… UH… HEY… COULD YOU TAKE ME TO JUST ONE LAST PLACE?"

"…Sure. Just tell me where and when."

"KAY… IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE. CAN WE APPEAR IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE?"

"Uh… Sure… I can program it for a teleport. What time and date?"

The tattooed bouncer had watched in confusion and befuddlement as the two identical men fought and yelled. Now he watched the victor put his hand on the shoulder of a strange shadowy figure. Both of the mysterious characters vanished in a brilliant flash of blue light, and the street was quiet again.

The bouncer looked left and right to make sure nobody was watching, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a memory gun. He set it to 'Dan vs. Dan', and then zapped himself in the head. As a peaceful smile spread across his face, he returned the gun to its hiding place, and looked out over the town. Christmas. He thought. What a magical time.

Dr. Pines and Dan appeared in the middle of a dirt road on December 15th, 2006, 11 in the morning. Just 9 days before their last destination.

Dan turned around slowly, as his breath formed a frigid mist in the snowy air ahead of him. Off through the trees at the end of the road, he made out his own familiar cabin home. A fire was burning inside, as evidenced by the smoke curling gently from the chimney. A pair of deep tire tracks had been left in the snow beside the building, meaning his truck was gone. Which meant that the current era's Dan was still off at work…

Dan took a step toward the cabin, uncertainly and hesitantly. He'd remembered this day many times. Always it looked just like this… But this time the strange vision was actually real; he actually was in the winter of 2006…

She is actually inside…

He took another step, and another. And each one got faster, and his heart started pounding. He was to the cabin door in seconds, and fumbling for his keys with shaking hands. As he stuck the key in the lock, he stomped to clean the snow off his boots. His huge shoulders shivered slightly, but not from the cold. Then the door was unlocked and he was stepping through… I can't believe it…

Dr. Pines followed behind more hesitantly, unsure what to expect from Dan's escapade.

The big man rushed through the living room and into the kitchen, where he paused to look all around. Seeing nothing, he turned to the hallway, then sprinted down it to the bedroom at the end. In his haste to open the door at the end, he practically tore it off its hinges. But when he got through it, he froze.

Dr. Pines came up behind him, and froze as well.

Dan's jaw quivered as he prepared to speak. "HEY… HEY HONEY…"

A woman rolled over in the bed, and turned on the bedside lamp. Then she sat up slowly and weakly, and blinked up at the two visitors.

Mason regarded the woman with a strange mix of deja-vu and horror.

She was the spitting image of Wendy, in most every detail of her face, her hair, her body… But she was older. And sicker. She looked stretched, hollow, empty. Thin, almost emaciated, and her face and hands were lined and pale. Her hair hung down in ragged, messy tangles across her face, and her eyes had heavy bags beneath them.

There was a whole pharmacy of pills and medications resting on her nightstand.

"…Dan…?" She asked tiredly, and glanced slowly at the clock. "I… Thought you were at work… What… The kids are still at school and…"

"YEAH. YEAH… UH… I AM AT WORK. UH…" Dan scratched his head. "UH…" He stuttered. "HARD TO EXPLAIN, BUT… I'M FROM THE FUTURE. I CAME BACK IN TIME FROM ABOUT… ABOUT 7 YEARS ON."

"Oh…" She shook her head, and ran her fingers through her hair to straighten it out. Then she smiled up at him, and crossed her arms with a mischievous smile. "I… I knew there was something different about your beard… You grew it out, didn't you, you rascal?"

"Y-YES…"

"Well, come on over here…" She scooted to the side of the bed to make room for him. He lay down next to her and put his arm around her. "So." She smiled. "What's the occasion, handsome?"

"WELL… UH… HONEY… YOU'RE…" He sighed. "YOU'RE GOING TO DIE THIS AFTERNOON. ABOUT 3:00… I'LL STILL BE AT WORK, AND…" He shook his head, and his mouth stopped working for a moment. When he got it back under control, he muttered. "AND I'LL NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN."

"Oh." She looked around, and blinked. "Well… Bummer."

"Y-YEAH."

"Yeah."

"H-HONEY, I MISS YOU. EVERY DAY. I… I SHOULD'VE STAYED HOME FROM WORK TODAY… I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE FOR YOU…"

"Heeey… It's okay. It's all okay. Not your fault. Nobody's fault…"

"I…" Dan gestured to her pills and medications. "I SHOULD'VE SEEN IT COMING, ANYWAY… I SHOULD'VE… SHOULD'VE…"

"Hey." She shrugged. "At least the suspense is gone now, right…? Now that I can set an egg timer for my remaining minutes… Heh heh… It's kind of a load off, honestly…"

"DON'T SAY THAT."

"Say, how do the kids take it? They'll be home from school by then, so they'll be here when it happens, won't they?"

"YEAH."

"Ooooh… Wendy's gonna blame herself for it so badly… Will you tell her it's not her fault? These things happen. They really do. And there's nothing she can do…"

"YEAH, UH… L-LOOK HONEY… I… I BROUGHT SOME GOOD NEWS THOUGH. SOME REALLY GOOD NEWS."

"Oh yeah?" She turned towards him. "Good, because you were totally bumming me out for a minute there. Whatcha got?"

"THESE PICTURES HERE." He pulled out the stack that Dipper had given him. "SEE?" He said. "LOOK! WOULD YA LOOK AT HER?"

"Oh wow." She took the photos, and looked through them one by one. "…What the heck is she even doing here? And what is that? Is that a dragon…? Are dragons a thing?"

"I DUNNO."

"Well… She's happy."

"SHE'S MADE SOMETHING OF HERSELF, HONEY. SHE'S FOUND A CALLING. ISN'T THAT GREAT?"

"Yeah…"

"AND LOOK! SHE'S… WELL, YOU KNOW HOW SHE'S LAZY SOMETIMES. BUT LOOK HERE! SHE'S EXCITED! THE… HONEY, SHE'S DOING GOOD WORK AND STUFF…"

"That's… Great… Wow… Who's this in all the pictures?"

"OH, UH…" Dan gestured to Dr. Pines. "THIS… GUY. I GUESS HE'S HER BOYFRIEND OR SOME STUPID THING."

"Yeah." Mason shrugged, and gave a little wave. Suddenly, he was feeling very, very self-conscious and out-of-place. Like the story he'd started had suddenly left his control.

He felt like he shouldn't be here.

It felt wrong to meet Wendy's mom.

But he extended his hand anyway, and smiled nervously. "Uh, h-hi Mrs. C-Corduroy." He stuttered. "I'm Dr. Mason Dipper, uh, Pines. I'm Mason Pines, I'm an investigateful. I'm short. Nice to meet you."

She grasped his hand surprisingly firmly, and shook it. "Nice to meet you too… Is this you in all the pictures? Doing all these things?"

"Uh… Yeah."

"HE WANTS TO MARRY OUR DAUGHTER." Dan grunted. "WE WERE JUST TALKING."

"Oh… Huh? WHAT?" She looked him up and down, with a weird sort of frown. "Well! Well, uh… I guess I'm gonna die, so… What do I have to say about it… But… But if you lay a finger on her wrongly, and I swear you're haunted. My ghost-boot, your butt. My ghost-fist, your face, my ghost-teeth, your earlobe. Torment forever. You'll be so haunted you'll wish you'd never been born. You'll have such bad luck that leprechauns will walk on the other side of the street. You hear me?"

"Uh… Yeah. I've been getting that a lot."

"Good." She nodded.

"YEAH." Dan agreed.

"But… But seriously though." She shrugged. "Wendy's only 11 now, so I'll admit that I don't know her very well when she's… Your age… But… I love her. And she means the world to me. And I can only hope, for your sake, that she means just as much to you…"

"Uh… She… She definitely does…" Mason stuttered as he looked down at Dan, lying next to his dying wife. They were seeing each other for the last time, but neither of them were crying. And neither of them were afraid. They both just stood, confident and proud and strong, and waited bravely for the end.

Corduroy. He thought. Corduroy. Wendy was proud of that name, and… Now I think I get it. It's a big name. A big legacy. It's… It's a line of people like this. People who can laugh and joke and make promises and put their feet down in darkest of times. These were a people as hard as the hardship around them. This… This almost dwarfs me. "I mean…" Mason said. "I don't think I should be here… I mean… I… I'm so sorry, Mrs. Corduroy. I really am so sorry… I mean… You're gonna die, and… And I'll time-travel over to the funeral too, and… And… Uh…"

"Everybody goes sometime." She shrugged. "But… But what am I gonna do with the rest of my life, huh?" She looked around. "You pop in here 4 hours before I kick the bucket. I can barely walk, what am I gonna do? Go sledding? Build a snowman? Believe me, you're not interrupting anything, Doc."

"I… I just…" He turned halfway toward the door. "I'll just time-travel to whenever Dan wants to be picked up. H-h-how long do you want…?"

"Actually…" Mrs. Corduroy shrugged. "Why don't you tell us a story or two, huh?"

"What…?"

"What are you doing in all these pictures…? Tell us about our daughter. Tell us everything. From the beginning, and up to the end… I want to know, son."

"Uh…" Mason shook his head. "Tell… Tell a story… I don't… Uh." He sat down on a chair near the foot of the bed. The Corduroys waited expectantly.

"Okay." He said. "Umm… Dan, remember how a UFO flew over the town today a little while before I showed up?"

"YEAH."

"Ooh…!" Mrs. Corduroy smiled. "Aliens…"

"Actually no." Mason shook his head. "Actually, uh… Wendy and I were inside of that. We sort of stole it from some Aliens to escape from some… Some other aliens who were killer robots… And… There was also some aliens that were shapeshifters, and some pancakes, and… It's a long story… Uh… Want to hear it?"

"Sure." She smiled.

"Okay." Mason said. "Let me think… Uh… Okay. It all started when your daughter was 16. I was 13. She was exploring through the woods, far out into the back country. And in a narrow, lonely valley where nobody ever goes, she found an alien robot caught in a beartrap…"

Wendy parked her bike by the porch of her cabin, and came walking up the steps. Her legs and arms were still sore from reckless use of the UFO's gravity drive, but it wasn't all that bad.

All total, it had been a very good day. Super crazy, super fun. Adventures like today were what made life worth living.

And tomorrow wouldn't be so bad either…

When she came in through the front door, she saw her dad reclining on the couch.

But he wasn't watching TV, as he usually did. Instead, he was holding a small stack of something, and was flipping through them slowly.

"Heeeey, 'sup dad? What you got?" She asked, and walked over to look.

"OH, UH…!" He hurriedly shoved them in his pocket, pulled out the remote, and turned on the TV. "I WAS WATCHING TV."

"Umm… No you weren't. You were—"

"SO." He turned the TV back off again. "HOW'D YOUR DAY GO?"

"Oh… Eh… You know…" She shrugged. "It was… Stuff happened."

"WHAT STUFF?"

"Oh, like… I drove a new vehicle without a license… I used it to escape from some killer robots… Soos ate some grass on a dare… Mabel got goofy and… And… Well, some stuff happened but then we all went for ice cream… Some guy asked me out on a date…"

"OH YEAH?"

"Yeah."

"HUH." There was awkward silence for a minute. "WHO?"

"Oh, uh… You remember Ford Pines? That old inventor/scientist sort of guy?"

"YEAH."

"His nephew."

Dan nodded knowingly, with a deep, unapproving scowl. "…THE WIMPY LITTLE PIPSQUEAK WITH THE SWEATING PROBLEM. THE ONE WHO'S A JILLION YEARS TOO YOUNG FOR YOU."

"Uh… Yeah…"

Dan held her eye for a minute, then grunted harshly and turned the TV back on.

"Uh…" Wendy made a confused smirk, and glanced between him and the television a few times. "So… Is that seriously… Like, that's it?"

"WHAT'S IT?"

"That! Like, you're not gonna give me a hard time?"

"WHY WOULD I?"

"Uh… I dunno. It seems like you would. Like, you gave me a hard time about Robbie…"

"ROBBIE. WORE. MAKEUP."

"Hmm." There were a few seconds of confused silence, and Dan turned his attention to the TV. "Okie dokie." Wendy turned and made for her room.

"HEY." He called after her. "DOES HE CARE ABOUT YOU?"

She turned around, and met his eye. "Uh… Yeah…"

Dan frowned for a minute, then said. "YEAH, WELL, HE'S TOO SHORT. IT'S WEIRD."

"Oh yeah?" Wendy struggled to come up with a good retort for that. "Well… Eh."

And she continued on to her room, and shut the door behind her.