We entered the door to the photography place swiftly. Judging souly based on the interior, the place seemed to be a part of the same news outlet that had made the paper, I guess they ran out of things to talk about in this town.
Walking up to the counter first, Mabel a step behind my side holding the cameras like they were made of gold, The chubby man stood before us.
The guy behind the desk looked bored, reading some kind of comic book I didn't recognize. Mabel set the cameras down.
"We're here for the monster photo contest," I said.
He glanced at the camera, then at me, then sighed like this was the fortieth submission today. "Let me guess. A Bigfoot in a ski mask? Or is it a Chupacabra made of felt?"
I just tapped the camera with the best photo.
He leaned not very interested, but his eyes suddenly went wide.
"Holy—"
"Yeah," I said. "That's real."
Mabel grinned, bouncing on her heels. "We risked our lives for that baby."
The chubby guy stared at the photo for another ten seconds, mumbled something about calling his manager, and disappeared into the back.
Mabel elbowed me. "Ya think he's gonna try stealing it?"
"Nah probably just checking if it's real."
"It is real. We were there. You took like fifty pictures."
"Two, only came out good." I replied with a piece sign.
When the guy came back, he had a red envelope. A thick one With a card behind it.
"You two won. Congratulations." He slid our winnings across the counter, then leaned in slightly. "Would you like to keep your identities secret, Contest rules allows for some Privacy."
Mabel's face scrunched up. "No way! We totally deserve credit for this."
I only shrugged grabbing the cash "doesn't matter to me, as long as we have this."
"We're good with whatever, thanks for the cash."
We stepped onto the sidewalk, and Mabel with a speed so fast I could only see a pink blur, immediately ripped the envelope open.
"Five hundred for you, five hundred for me!" She fanned the bills out like a deck of cards, grinning so wide I thought her face might split at any second.
"Careful," I said, glancing around. "You're gonna drop it."
"I'm not gonna—oh no, I almost dropped it." She clutched the money to her chest. "Okay, new plan. You hold half."
I took my share and pocketed it. Mhm the weight in my pocket felt good.
We started walking. Stan wouldn't drive us. Said something about "building character" and "learning the value of effort." Really who did he think he was fooling.
Mabel kicked a rock down the sidewalk, humming to herself. Then she stopped.
"Hey," she said. "We should give Soos some of this."
I kept walking. "Why?"
"Because he helped out a lot? He brought the boat, he had the cameras, he literally drove us into danger." She jogged to catch up. "Come on, Dipper. It's only fair."
I thought about it, rubbing my fingers against my nonexistent beard. She wasn't wrong, Soos had helped out a lot. but the money.. It was basically already allocated in my head.
"I'll just be nicer to him," I said.
Mabel stopped walking. "That's it? You'll be nicer?"
"Yeah."
She stared at me for a second, then sighed. "You're weird sometimes, you know that?"
"I know."
The next morning came fast.
Mabel shook me awake before the sun was fully up, her face way too close to mine.
"Teeth. Now. TV time."
I groaned but rolled out of bed a little surprised she was up so early. We brushed our teeth side by side in the bathroom, Mabel making faces in the mirror while I tried not to fall asleep standing up.
"I hope Grunkle Stans not awake yet." she asked through a mouthful of toothpaste.
I listened to her words but remembered there was no way he would be, besides the fact I hadn't heard footsteps. Nor the TV blaring.
With bubble pouring from my mouth I replied, "Not yet."
"Perfect." She spit, rinsed, and bolted for the living room.
I followed, still wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
We hit the couch at the same time, and Mabel grabbed the remote. I already knew I should've been upstairs with the journal, using my powers to let me memorize pages instantly, and I was burning time. But Stan's morning routine was predictable. Once he woke up, the remote was his for the rest of the day.
This was our window.
Mabel flipped through channels. Static. Infomercial. News.
Then she gasped.
"Dipper! Look!"
On screen was our photo. The Gobblewonker, mid-roar, all caught in a crisp 780p. A news reporter stood next to it, gesturing dramatically.
"—anonymous winners of the monster photo contest have stunned scientists and cryptozoologists alike. The identity of the photographers remains unknown, but their work speaks for itself—"
Anonymous? did they just decide to leave out the credit.
"We're famous!" Mabel screamed, jumping off the couch. "Dipper, we're on TV! We're basically celebrities now!"
I leaned back, arms behind my head. "Yeah. We did good."
"Good? This is amazing! We're mystery solvers! We're heroes!" She struck a pose with the most serious face like she was on a magazine cover.
"We're also still anonymous," I reminded her.
"Details." She flopped back onto the couch and kept flipping.
The next channel was a cartoon. A duck in a trench coat examining a crime scene with a magnifying glass.
"Duck-tective?" I said.
Mabel snorted. "What show is this?"
"It's a duck, solving crimes."
"I can see that."
On screen, the duck was piecing together clues, talking about evidence and suspect timelines. It was a little ridiculous to watch, A kids' show for sure, but the logic sounded somewhat sound. I let my powers kick in, absorbing the little knowledge the show offered, the way the detective worked through a case step by step, to the way he spoke suavely to the potential suspect, the episode wasn't too bad.
It wasn't real investigation training unfortunately, but it was better than nothing, I could always just head to a library and stuff the rest in.
Mabel poked my arm. "This shows pretty good, do you know if this shows weekly."
"All I know is that its a duck that knows how to solve crimes."
She shook her head, grinning. "You're so weird."
A knock came from the hallway, followed by Soos's voice.
"Dudes! You gotta come see this."
Mabel muted the TV's commercial. "See what?"
Soos poked his head around the corner, grinning like he'd just found buried treasure. "I was cleaning the upstairs hallway, right? And I found this weird spot in the wall. So I pulled back the wallpaper and—dudes, there's a secret door."
Mabel was already on her feet. "A secret door? In the Shack?"
"Yeah! You guys wanna check it out?"
I stood. "For sure,"
We followed Soos down the hall, past the creaky floorboards and faded wallpaper that looked like it hadn't been changed since the seventies. He stopped in front of a section of wall that looked identical to every other section.
Except it wasn't.
Soos grabbed the edge of the wallpaper and peeled it back further, revealing a door. Old, wooden, with a brass handle that was covered in dust.
"I didn't open it yet," Soos said. "Figured you dudes would wanna be here for the big reveal."
Mabel grabbed the handle. "This is so cool. What if there's treasure? Or a portal? Or—"
"Or it's just storage," I said.
She shot me a look. "You're no fun at all dipper."
She turned the handle.
The door swung open with a long creak, and we stepped inside.
The room was bigger than I expected. And full.
Wax figures lined the walls, arranged in groups like they were at a party. Sherlock Holmes stood next to Genghis Khan. Abraham Lincoln was mid-speech. A wax Shakespeare held a quill. All of them frozen, lifelike, staring at nothing.
"Whoa," Mabel breathed, stepping closer. "These are amazing. They look so real."
Soos whistled low. "Yeah, like, creepy real. Did Mr. Pines make these?"
I stayed near the door, eyes moving from figure to figure.
Because of course I knew, I remembered this episode. These things came to life. They were dangerous figures, and if they discovered I knew their secret, we'd be dead before morning.
Mabel reached out toward Abraham Lincoln's hand.
"Mabel," I said, sharper than I meant to.
She turned. "What?"
"Just… don't touch them."
"Why not? They're wax."
"I know. Just don't."
She pulled her hand back, frowning. "You're being weird again."
Soos looked between us, scratching his head. "You think they're cursed or something, little dude?"
"This is Gravity Falls. Everything's cursed." I shrugged.
Mabel rolled her eyes but stepped back from the figures. "Fine. But I'm taking a closer look at Sherlock. He's got a cool hat."
She moved toward the detective, and I watched her carefully. The figures didn't move an inch. But the air in the room felt wrong, as if everything was holding its breath.
Soos wandered toward the back, looking at a wax Thomas Edison. "Man, whoever made these really knew what they were doing. The details are insane."
"Yeah," I said quietly.
Mabel turned back to me. "Do you think Grunkle Stan made all these? Like, before he opened the Shack?"
I didn't know the full story in my head but I needed to get rid of these creatures as fast as possible, there could be an easier method than just melting them into blocks, inside the journal.
"Maybe," I said finally. "Or he bought them, or more likely found them."
"Found a whole room of perfect wax people," Mabel said flatly. "Sure."
Soos tapped the wall. "There's more wallpaper back here. Think there's another secret room?"
"Let's not find out today," I said.
Mabel looked at me, then at the figures, then back at me. "Okay, seriously. What's wrong?"
"Huh, nothing."
"You're acting like they're gonna jump out and attack us."
"I was just thinking about the contest," I really didn't wanna tell her inside or near this room.
She didn't look convinced for a second, then shrugged. "Fine. Let's go. This place smells like dust anyway."
We filed out of the room, Soos closing the door behind us.
As we walked back down the hall, Mabel elbowed me. "You're gonna tell me what that was about later, right?"
"Probably yeah."
"Definitely," she corrected.
There was no need to argue with her because she'd eventually, find out on her own, hopefully a quick plan could prevent any real danger though.