I held the Journal like it was a relic from some long lost civilization, because, in a sense, it was. Creatures, symbols, warnings… it was like someone crammed Wikipedia for the Supernatural into a leather-bound bombshell of mystery. And it was mine.
My stomach growled. Right. I hadn't actually eaten since the apple. I shoved the journal into my backpack and booked it back to the Shack, thoughts racing.
If even half of what was in this thing was accurate… monsters, secrets, treasure—I could own this town by the end of the summer, and there where still two more to collect.
Cue the dramatic music.
Not that anyone else could hear it.
By the time I got back, Mabel was skipping around the parking lot patch with a glitter glue pen and a stack of heart-shaped cards.
"Dipper! Guess what! I think I met the one!"
"Oh no," I muttered.
She beamed. "His name's Norman! He's tall, mysterious, kind of lumpy in the face but in a cute way, and he totally digs me. I can tell because he didn't run away immediately."
"That's your bar?" I asked.
She ignored me, clutching a card. "I'm giving him this later. It's got a poem and seventeen fun facts about me. Number six is that I once hugged a cactus because I thought it looked lonely."
"...Why would anyone need seventeen?"
"Because I had to cut it down from fifty-three," she said matter-of-factly.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. There was no winning here.
Instead, I made my way inside, ducked into the storage room, and yanked Stan's old leaf blower off the wall hook. It was heavy, loud, and only fired up after being smacked three times and sworn at in Latin. But if I was right about Norman… I might need it.
Back in the attic, I flipped to a chapter marked "Creatures of the Forest" and began scanning for anything that looked vaguely Norman-shaped.
Half-decomposed forest ghoul? No.
Reverse vampire? Definitely not.
Gnomes. Huh.
They were described as small, bearded, and—quote—"easily mistaken for humans if stacked on top of one another wearing a hood." Well, not exactly, but you get my point.
"Mabel's dating a garden gnome Voltron."
The rest of the day was a blur of plotting. I had a plan.
Step one, save Mabel from her inevitable gnome-themed heartbreak. Step two, use the journal to become the undisputed King of Gravity Falls. Perfect plan.
All while dodging unpaid labor assignments from Grunkle Stan and watching Soos use duct tape in ways that definitely void most warranties.
That evening, I shadowed Mabel and Norman through the woods, keeping my distance and carrying the leaf blower in my palms.
They giggled while walking toward some old picnic benches nestled in the clearing. Mabel was talking a mile a minute about an assortment of topics. Norman, or whatever he was, nodded and occasionally did a hiccup motion in a way that made his whole body twitch. He stumbled weirdly while sitting. She offered him a glitter-glued friendship bracelet. and her hand crafted card. He sneezed out a pinecone into her palm in return.
Totally normal.
But I held back for the right moment to attack and instill fear into the gremlins. After all I needed them for a quick favor.
Mabel leaned forward, eyes fluttering. "This is perfect, Norman. You're… different. Not like other boys."
There was a pause.
Norman's mouth twitched. Not smiled, twitched. Then his left eye slid out of alignment. A low, strange rustling echoed from under his hoodie. Mabel tilted her head, confused.
"I—uh, Norman?" she asked gently. "Are you okay?"
Norman gave a full-body shudder, like someone trying to shake off a swarm of bees, and then stiffened upright. His voice was deeper than usual. Too deep.
"I have a confession," he said, voice warbling like a bad radio signal. "I am not what I seem."
Mabel blinked. "Are you a secret werewolf? Because I am so open to that."
"No. I…" He yanked down his hood, and his whole head popped off, revealing four more tiny gnome heads stacked underneath, all blinking up at her like the world's worst nesting doll.
"I am actually a stack of five gnomes in a trench coat named Norman."
Mabel froze. Blinked once. Twice.
Then slowly, painfully, she cringed.
"Eeeeeeugh. Yeah, okay, nope." She stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her sweater. "Listen, fellas, you seem...organized. But this whole 'multiple garden gnomes in disguise' thing? Not really my taste."
The gnomes looked heartbroken. Or at least the top one did. The others mostly looked dizzy.
"But Mabel!" cried the top gnome, Jeff, if my memories served me right. "You're the perfect queen for our gnome kingdom! Glitter, color, chaotic energy—we worship you!"
Mabel took a cautious step back. "Yeah that sounds fun and all, but now it's starting to sound like a cult."
Jeff could only sigh "Alright then," snapping his fingers he yelled. "Plan B, boys! Grab her!"
Suddenly, the entire stack launched at her, separating mid-air into five flying bearded guys with sharp teeth. Mabel screamed and bolted.
Cue me.
I stepped out from behind the tree with the leaf blower already roaring, the Journal tucked under one arm.
"Back off, tiny terrors!" I yelled, aiming the nozzle.
Jeff skidded to a halt mid-flight. "A leaf blower? Really? What are you gonna do, clean me?"
"No," I said, and switching to reverse and firing
The leaf blower screamed like a banshee on Red Bull. One of Jeff's subordinate gnomes—possibly named Greg or Tootsie or something, got vacuumed clean off the ground, bounced once against the nozzle, then blasted into the treeline with a "WHEEEE!" and a crash of twigs.
The other gnomes halted mid-kidnap.
Jeff's eyes widened. "You… monster."
I revved the blower again, aiming for his beard.
He raised his stubby arms. "Okay! Okay! Truce! I surrender! I'll do anything you want, just please don't de-leaf us!"
I lowered the weapon slightly. "Anything?"
He nodded frantically. "I'll wash your laundry, polish your shoes, I'll even become your queen if that's what you want!"
Mabel peeked out from behind a log, her face a slight pale.
"You okay?" I asked.
She gave a shaky thumbs-up. "I was almost queen of the mulch people, Dipper. That was way too close."
I turned back to Jeff, who was still quivering. "First rule: stay away from my sister."
Jeff saluted. "Understood, human king."
"And second rule—never pretend to be a boy named Norman again."
"Can I still go by Chad?"
"No."
He sighed.
I clicked off the blower, letting the silence of the forest settle back in. Mabel stepped beside me, still shaking but managing a tiny laugh.
"I swear, Dipper, I'm never dating again."
"That's a lie."
"Yeah," she admitted, "but at least I'm raising my standards to guys who aren't controlled by five angry lawn ornaments."
"Yeah make it one next time." I said while laughing, She could only punch me in the shoulder out of embarassment.
"Stop it dipper thats not funny!"
And somewhere, deep in the woods, a gnome hit the ground with a thud and groaned, "Why is it always meeeee?"
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Author Note: Hope you enjoyed any suggestions comment I'll answer asap. I'll make sure to change any errors you guy catch as well.