"Morning, Mabel."
"Dipper mumbled sleepily to me. I smiled in reply as I took a seat at the kitchen table. My wordless grin however was nothing more than a phony cover to try to hide my shock.
How could my brother act so natural? So calm? Did he really not understand what had just happened? What he had done?
I sat in silence, watching him intently and reading his every moment. I couldn't help it, optimism and I always came hand in hand. Maybe a little bit too much for my own good. I don't know what I was looking for. Perhaps just some sign or hint that he knew what he was doing to me.
He yawned, hopped off his chair and grabbed some orange juice from the fridge. I could see it everywhere, from the way he slowly walked to the look in his half-opened eyes. For him, it really was a morning like any other, and this realization made my heart drop like a stone.
I felt crushed. How could he really not get it? How could he be so blind? Did he not understand the agony that he was putting me through? The selfish…."
Stan Pines let out a long, heaving sigh before he blew on his coffee. It was far too early in the morning to deal with these kind of antics. "Dipper…just what the heck is your sister doing?"
The boy didn't even give his twin the briefest of glances. The moment she had begun her loud, excessively dramatic monologue, he knew precisely what was going on. Suffice to say, he wasn't any more thrilled about it than his great-uncle.
"She's 'the Narrator' right now." He answered bluntly. Mabel meanwhile continued on, furrowing her brow and narrowing her eyes in the closest approximation of a serious expression that the normally cheerful preteen could manage.
"...Betrayal, that's what it was. A familial betrayal that hurt more than a knife to the heart…"
"Eeesh! Knock it off, will ya?" Stan ordered gruffly. The cranky command however went completely ignored, and the preteen girl displayed zero signs of stopping anytime soon with the grim performance.
"….It didn't make any sense. How could he do this? How could he break…" She paused and chewed her lip as she tried to think of a more theatrical way to put it. Once the right word popped into her head she brightened up, but only for the briefest of moments as she promptly put her exaggerated scowl back on. "How could he shatter my trust like this? How could he…"
"She does this when she's upset sometimes." Dipper explained wearily as he poured himself some juice. "She won't actually tell me what's wrong though. I'm supposed to figure it out on my own."
Stan scowled as he reached into the freezer. "Like she didn't have enough to drive me nuts with already. Great, just great, that's exactly what I needed….around….wait…wait….where's there...oh c'mon!"
The old man grimaced grouchily as he slammed the freezer door shut, and whirled on the preteens. "All right, who takes the last frozen waffle and doesn't even throw out the box? That's it…that's it, not even eight thirty, and I am done with today…I'm done, ya hear? For cryin' out loud…"
Mumbling darkly under his breath, Stan grabbed the paper and shuffled off into the den, completely unaware of the valuable service he had provided for his great-nephew. Dipper looked to the freshly toasted breakfast treat sitting on his plate, to his glowering twin, and let out a sigh.
"Didn't know it was the last one…" He murmured apologetically with a yawn, and promptly got to work righting his accidental wrong. As he started to cut it down the middle, Mabel leaned in close and continued her self-narration.
"I had a brief glimmer of hope. Did he finally realize what had to be done? Did-"
The melodramatic act came to an immediate end the moment he served up half the waffle. Instantly all was forgiven, and Mabel happily slapped on her iconic shining smile.
"Thank yoooou!" She clapped her hands and chirped in gleeful singsong. "And I thought you were purposely being a greedy jerk this morning."
"Nah, just tired." He mumbled, glad that the shenanigans were done with.
As normalcy started to return to the breakfast table, Mabel placed a napkin on her lap and squeaked sweetly, "Pass the syrup?"
Dipper motioned for her to wait a moment as he squeezed the bottle of Sir Syrup over his waffle half. An inadvertently overgenerous blob of golden-brown plopped out, followed by nothing more than an airy wheeze. He made a face as he gave the bottle a couple more presses.
"Sorry, I think that's the last of...wait, really? Really? For syrup?" He shouted exasperatedly. The words of protest had no effect as twin's face fast contorted back into the over-exaggerated scowl of disapproval. Dipper knocked his head against the table and quickly plugged up his ears as she started up act two of her excessively dramatic breakfast performance.
"I just couldn't understand. How could my brother seem so smart and caring sometimes, and other times be nothing more than a cruel, selfish butt…"