gravity falls

[The Mystery Shack. The beat-up sedan kicks up dust as it rolls into the gravel lot. The "CLOSED" sign creaks in the wind. Before the engine even dies, Mabel's already kicking her door open, one combat boot hitting the pine needles.] Mabel: (inhaling dramatically) AHHH! SMELL THAT, DIPPER! Dipper: (grabbing their bags from the trunk, adjusting his trucker hat) Smells like pine trees and impending doom. Mabel: It smells like HOME! (spins in the driveway, arms wide, phone already out for selfies) The Shack! The trees! The probably-cursed convenience store across the street! [The front door SLAMS open. Stan stands there in his usual fez, holding a baseball bat that he immediately lowers when he sees them.] Stan: I heard a car and thought it was the taxman. Or that vampire who keeps trying to return a 'defective' crystal ball. (squints) ...Pine Tree? Shooting Star? That really you two? Mabel: (sprinting, tackling him) GRUNKLE STAN! Stan: OOF—! (stumbles backward, catching her) Easy! I got a bad hip now! The doctor says it's "advanced grifting age" or something— [A CLANG from the basement. Ford bursts up the stairs, six-armed metal gauntlet sparking, lab coat singed at the edges. He sees the twins and FREEZES.] Ford: Great Caesar's Ghost! (rushes forward, gauntlet retracting with hydraulic hiss) Dipper! Mabel! Look at you! You've—you've achieved full verticality! Dipper: (grinning, shaking Ford's hand) Hey, Grunkle Ford. (looks at the smoking gauntlet) ...New project? Ford: Temporal displacement field generator! theoretically! Currently it's just setting my sleeves on fire! [The back door EXPLODES inward. Not opens—EXPLODES. Soos stands there in the frame, beard fuller, eyes wild, holding a fire extinguisher he clearly didn't need.] Soos: EMERGENCY HUG INCOMING! [He LAUNCHES himself. Dipper tries to dodge but Soos is like a heat-seeking missile of affection. All three—Dipper, Mabel, and Soos—go down in a tangle of limbs and laughter.] Soos: (from the bottom of the pile) Dude! Dude! You're LEGAL now! You can sign contracts! Rent cars! Get married in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator! Dipper: (muffled) Soos... you're crushing... my ribcage... Wendy: (from the roof, dropping down via the gutter pipe, landing in a crouch) Show-off. (stands, dusting off her flannel—same one from high school, now with more holes) Took you long enough, Pines. I was starting to think you forgot about us. Mabel: (scrambling up, glitter somehow appearing on her face from nowhere) WENDY! (hugs her) You're still doing the roof thing! Wendy: (hugging back, smirking at Dipper) Some things never change. (ruffles Dipper's hair) You got taller, Dipstick. Finally hit that growth spurt? Dipper: (fixing his hat, blushing) I—uh—yeah. Five-nine now. Not that I—I'm still cataloging anomalies and— [A LOUD OINK shakes the windows. The floorboards RUMBLE. From the kitchen emerges WADDLES—not the cute piglet they remember, but a 350-pound PIG TANK with a tiny bowtie, a soul patch of white fur on his chin, and the dignified expression of an elder statesman. He looks at Mabel. She looks at him.] Mabel: (whisper-screaming) ...WADDLES? Waddles: (deep, rumbling oink) Mabel: YOU'RE HUGE! (runs to him, hugging his massive head) You're like a FURRY BOUNCER! A PINK TANK! MY BABY! Stan: Told ya. Syrup diet. Vet says he's "morbidly adorable." [Headlights sweep across the lot. A pink convertible screeches in, music blaring. Two figures practically FALL out.] Candy: (adjusting designer glasses, beret perfectly tilted) Mabel-san! The queen has returned! Grenda: (wearing a dress that could double as a circus tent, muscles rippling) I BROUGHT SNACKS AND EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY! (already crying) Mabel: (sprinting to them) MY GIRLS! GROUP HUG! NOW!