Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

-CLICK-

(Sounds of clicking and fiddling that stops and starts abruptly. The audio keeps cutting out and a man curses in Spanish)

{Male Unknown}:
-u-r-s-e this da- aud-o tape Come o- focus on- buddy!

(There is a sound of rattling and blowing dust off the audio tape before it is rested on a wooden object, presumably a desk, with a careful thump.)

{Male Unknown}:
There we go! Geez, wasn't that a nightmare to set up? Glad that the, um, "fermented squirrel fur harvesting machine" where this came from didn't break this baby too much..

(He shivers as if, with all the places he has been around the world, he still can't understand the need for such a machine.)

{Male Unknown} :
Well, I guess I should introduce myself. Urgh, this feels like being in school again and doing the ice breaker.

(Only the crackles from the tape recorder fills the eternity of silence besides from slightly laboured breathing, perhaps from someone who had done a large amount of crying.)

{Male Unknown}:
My name is.. well, it depends who you ask really but we'll say Stanley. Stanley Pines. The year is what? 1983? Somewhere in January? I'm not sure anymore. Might as well be honest as I don't think anyone will ever find this.

I'm currently staying in this weird old town called Gravity Falls with about, give or take, 5 feet of snow outside. So, er, no I won't be leaving anytime soon. That and for other reasons..

I guess on the plus side you don't know what I look like either, huh?
Ha! Take that you nosy bugger!

...

I hope this broken project ends up being better than the last one. For both our sakes.

(He laughs despite himself.)

-CLICK-

(Fabric rustles and a man sighs, reverberating around the empty house.)

{Stanley}:
Hey, it's Stanley.
Right now, I'm in the living room of this big stupid empty house, crashing on the couch.
Accordin' to the annoyin' coo-coo clock on the wall, which despite how old it looks is still blummin' tickin,' it's about 1 in the mornin'.

(He yawns almost on cue.)

{Stanley}:
I can't sleep. Got too much on my mind.
So, instead I'm doin' this, talkin' to a tape recorder like it's a real person.

(He takes a shaky breath and winces, presumably from a big injury. Maybe not just a physical one.)

{Stanley}:
I'm just thinkin' about how I got here and not in a big "what does life mean!" way. What I'm doin' here now. Thinkin' about the machine for this.. this jerk face!

You see, me and my brother had a fight.
We hadn't spoken in, give or take, if you don't count the phone calls - which I don't as they never actually went through - 10 years.
10 years.

(Stan's voice takes on a thoughtful tone like he's trying to tell the story without really telling much at all. Who is he trying to lie to, himself or us?)

{Stanley}:
He then sends me this postcard and I rush over here. Stupid thing to do. I don't know what I was expectin'.
The rest is history repeatin' itself.. I guess.
We fought again.

(Stan sighs clearly turning over the events in his mind, thinking about what he could've done differently. This has happened before.)

{Stanley}:
It wasn't too much of a messy fight. I got a bit biffed and bashed, nothin' I can't handle; I've had to patch myself up before.
We certainly didn't part on good terms though, ha! Stanley and Stanford at it again!

But, I, um, said some stuff I didn't mean and he..

Well. He didn't look so good.

Sixer was actin' like Ma after her seventh cup of coffee, you know?
Massive eyebags, pasty skin..
Kinda like the things he's been studyin' up here, those things that go boo in the dark. Ironic innit?
...
Eh, maybe it'll make me go mad but think I'm going to make myself a coffee.

(The couch groans as he gets to his feet. Stan mocks it with a groan of his own and then strainedly laughs. Static creeps into the audio, as he grabs the recorder and goes into the kitchen. Frustration starts to trickle into his voice.)

{Stanley}:
And of course now it's my job to get him out of this whole mess. Use this diary, and the other ones he mentioned, to fix the machine he went into. Best of all, I don't have any idea where they are or how many there are!

(The tape recorder is slammed on the kitchen counter top. Rapidly, cupboards are thrown open and shut in a mad scramble.
Stan claps his hands in delight.)

{Stanley}:
¡Gracias gofre!
That is just totally Ford.
The fridge hasn't seen a crumb of food in months but of course the coffee is bouché.

(Several buttons are fiddled with. The abrasive sound of coffee beans hitting glass almost echoes around the kitchen. Somewhere in the past, via a different hand, the same scenario plays out.)

{Stanley}
Hey! Maybe there is still some hope hidden away in this rickety shack! I mean I've had worse odds in Vagas and still come out on top, haven't I? Maybe that was because I had a few extra cards but who knows..

(High pitched beeping followed by sirens warbles through the air. Stan's curses are only just heard above it.)

{Stanley}:
WHAT? STANFORD! WHY WOULD YOU MAKE YOUR "PLUTONIUM POWERED SANDWICH MAKER" LOOK LIKE A COFFEE MACHINE?!

-CLICK-

{Stanley}:
Hello, Stan again, it's now the third time using this recorder-thingy. Been about a week since I last used it.

I managed to clean up the great coffee disaster of 1983, although a few good dish cloths and rags were lost. Brave soldiers..

(By the sounds of fabric rustling, Stan does a mock salute.)

{Stanley}:
I feel like one of those weirdo mad scientists "documenting their progress" like in those old Sci-fi movies. But, what would I know, I haven't seen many of those recently...

Oi, mind your own business! It's not like this town has a place to watch them! It's real small compared to some of the ones I'm used to with just a library, logging place and supermarket. Dunno how these guys stay in business; it's literally in the middle of nowhere. That does work to my advantage though.

(He sighs wearily, as if the tiredness has long since soaked into his bones.)

{Stanley}:
Managed to turn on this piece of junk easier this time. Huh, I guess all the tinkering with my car paid off. If only you could see me now Pa!

(There are unsaid words that hang in the silence. Perhaps the words typically expected will never be given.)

{Stanley}
But, as it isn't snowing like the world is about to end I guess I have to go into town today. And even so because someone didn't stock food in this fridge! I'll probably just shoplift a week's worth till I can find a quick way to make cash. Gotta be a local shmuck who can hire me for somethin'.

...

For legality's sake, let's pretend you didn't hear that, ok?

-CLICK-

(A large pile of paper sounding things rustles and Stanley laughs.)

{Stanley}:
Look at that hey?

...Oh wait. Never mind.

Ahem, I've found my new money making schtick: tours! While I was out at the shops, a bunch of the town asked me to show 'em around this joint. Wanted to see the Old Science guy in his natural habitat. And who am I to refuse people's money, eh? Might as well release the burdens from their pockets as you would say scientifically, Sixer!

Most importantly though, if I'm bringing in tourists to make money here, I can be working on.. other matters in the basement as well. Two stones and one bird, whatever. I'm sure there's got enough nerd junk to fill a museum and if I play the right story-

(He puts on a gruff spooky accent.)

{Stanley}: "-Welcome to the Murder Hut where nightmares are born! But the true nightmare is how much I'll bill you to comeeee!" Ha! I'll write that one down!

-CLICK-
{Stanley}:
Hey. It now marks a week and a half since..

(Stanley clears his throat uncomfortably.)

{Stanley}:
...A week and a half since my brother disappeared. But with the restless nights I've been having, it feels a lot longer, ha ha!

I've been going through some of his old rooms, tryna make this place somewhat professional, you know? My "grand opening" will be soon and I can't exactly have people wading through a sea of nerd junk! I've sealed off one room that I think was his bedroom. I've not moved anything in there; I didn't see the point. After all, I don't need to waste any more time faffing about with his rooms when I can be working out how to get him to sit in them.

It's not been great though; I have no idea what happened before I got here but this place is a bloody mess. Literally!

(Stan's voice takes on a softer tone.)

It's the upstairs bathroom that's the worst. I don't know where to start with the mirror and trust me, I'm no stranger to gore or getting my hands dirty. The sticky notes are exactly comforting either; I've been keeping a gun on me at all times just in case, I don't know, something jumps out at me?

(Stan's voice takes on a whisper like its advice from a ghost long gone.)

{Stanley}:
It's easy to see why you went mad out here Poindexter. I'm already starting to crack.

(He laughs at his own severity.)

{Stanley}:
Gosh I really got you good there, huh! Jeez, I sound like Mr Grim the Reaper here. Ultimate party pooper. Might as well climb into my own coffin with an attitude like that...

-CLICK-

Chapter Text

-CLICK-

(A small scuttling noise and little boots patter across the floor. A door creaks open slowly and things are hurriedly being grabbed and scoffed. Someone's mouth opens and chews noisily. A can is grabbed and then--)

(A bell rings out..)

(..as a response, metal crashes to the floor}

{Stanley}:
Aha! Gotcha! Been stealing my food you pesky brownie!

-CLICK-

(It's hard to make out anything through the heavy atmospheric noise of wind but there is a crunch of snow from heavy feet and low grumbling.)

{Stanley}:
Come to Gravity Falls he said. "Please" he said. He didn't mention that a "gnome" would hotwire my car!

Ok. Maybe I did teach him a few skills but that doesn't matter! They were only party tricks really..

Bad enough the little bugger has been stealing my food. They'll be asking me for a kiss on the cheek next! That trap took me all afternoon too!

(The audio becomes distorted and wind rushes past, howling and roaring. Stan's footsteps become faster as he breaks out in a run.)

{Stanley}:
Stanley Jr!!

Where are you??

I suppose this is meant to teach me a lesson about meddling with nature. Too bad it ain't. I'll teach a bear to drive next, you'll see-
Wait..

HEY WATCH MY CAR!!

Son of a-

-CLICK-

(Loud bangs and crashes sound imminently close.)

{Stanley}:
HEYYYYY! I DIDN'T MEAN TO INSULT YOUR KING! I PROMISE I WONT CALL YOU A BROWNIE AGAIN! AND I WONT THREATEN TO COOK YOU!

Probably should've tried to train something smaller for my first exhibition...

(Angry high pitch shouting grows louder.)

{Stanley}:
Or maybe something less speedy. You'd be surprised how fast these guys can-

AHHHH!!!

-CLICK-

{Timid, young voice }:
Sire! Sire! We-we found th-this with them, M-M-My King!

{Royal, Snooty Voice}:
Hmm. Hand it over.

(The tape recorder is passed between the two.)

{Royal, Snooty Voice}:
What a strange being? It makes an odd chirping noise. This displeases me.
It's certainly not BABBA music.

(The audio suddenly becomes alot more.. slobbery and muffled. The more regal sounding voice coughs and gags.)

{Royal, Snooty Voice}:
That has a disgusting taste! And it is an eye sore to gaze upon! Tell her she can have it back if they agree to marry us.

(A brief interlude of hurried whispering followed by a short gasp covered non discreetly by a cough.)

{Slightly embarrassed, royal voice}:
Even with that hair? Hmmm. Ok. Release him then. We'll strike a negotiation if he tells us what products he uses.

-CLICK-

(A man sneezes ferociously and there is a sound of paper flying and glass bottles quivering.)

{Stanley}:
'ello, sniff, it's Stan. It's hard to believe it's been three weeks since my brother went through the portal. After those gnomes, it's safe to say that I am never going to put anything, urgh, I can't believe I'm saying this, but "real" in the Murder Hut.

With other news, I think I'll have to find the other two diaries to try and rejig up this, sniff, portal thingy but Mr "I-dont-know-who-I-can-trust-" has hidden them away somewhere secret. Moses, Ford, why do you always have to make things so complicated, sniff. I've looked everywhere in this house: from the attic to under the floor boards in the kitchen.

I've also got another problem as if there wasn't enough.

(Stanley sneezes again followed by an awful blowing noise like a blow horn mixed with an elephant trumpet.)

{Stanley}:
At some point I'm going to have to get rid of myself. Forever. Since I'll be here for a while, Rico (amongst others) are sure to hunt me down and I can't risk anything else happening. So I'll need to fake my death. It'll be fine; I've done it before but I suppose that wasn't.. me. And this will be for the final time, a death of my deaths if you will. Urgh, poetry.

The death part will be easy: I'll just burn a car in a ditch, sniff. But the hardest part is I'll need a funeral and stuff with invitations. Which will cost money I don't have and making calls to people I don't want to make calls to, sniff.

And maybe I've got a cold as well. What are you, a cop, Sixer?

-CLICK-

{Stanley}:
Welcome back nerds! It's what now? Middle of February? You know what? I think everything in these woods is after my car..

Ok so, be me for a second alright?
I was going to drive out to town to go to the diner, I've been busy today scammin- I mean doing reputable tourist work, ahem.

...

Oh, honestly, what do I care? You're my new best friend now, you can learn everything about me. I'm sure that'll have no repercussions in the future.

I left my car on the small road leading up to town for 2 seconds while I went to make sure that the door was locked, can't be too careful with these gnomes. Despite our "alliance"-

(Stanley says the word alliance with mock enthusiasm and groans.)

{Stanley}:
-I still find them stealing my treasure and trash! I mean I can hardly tell the difference nowadays.. but it's the thought that counts right?

When I came back to my car, I found it wasn't where I had parked it but instead was 50 feet in the air, picked up by a walking tree! Of course I was fuming so I gave it a piece of my mind and, erm, probably used some words not to be repeated.

Reminds me of when Pa had important friends over for a business meeting and I swore so I had to wash my mouth out with soap and-

(Stan trails off as the weight of these words catch up with him and he splutters for words, not unlike a plane in trouble.)

{Stanley}:
But anyways, he g-gave me my car back. I checked in the book and he's called Steve. I'm going to- I'm going now. Bye.

-CLICK-

Chapter Text

-CLICK-

{Stanley}:
Today is March 3rd so it's almost been at least three months since Ford "disappeared".

I thought that I would've found the rest of his diaries by now but no such luck.

Using the diary I've got already and my knowledge on my own car, I've had a wack at powering the portal on but the stubborn thing won't work. Mainly, I've just been trying random buttons and nothing has blown up in my face yet so that's good.

For the record, I did wanna say that something weird happened to me yesterday. I was staying up to finish this stuffed "Griffin" for my new exhibit in a few days but I didn't finish it 'cus I, erm, passed out. But, when I woke up that morning it was done, neatly stitched and everything. It was really weird and freaky, even for this town.

And hey, let's get this straight, I'm not complaining! You'll have to trust me when I say the less work, the better!
It's just.. unusual.

-CLICK-

{Stanley}:
Stan here. So it's been a few days since I last said anything but my Griffin was the biggest success that I've ever had. I-I don't understand. Has it been cursed or something?

...

Thinkin' about it, maybe if I pay these guys they'll do more stuff for me. What would "Felt Fairies" want? Glitter? Souls?

(Stan harrumphs in thought.)

{Stanley}:
AHA! FAIRY CAKES! Wait, are those offensive? Do they think that they're made out of real fairy? It's hard to tell with these guys. Meh, I'll do it later. I've got a death to fake.

-CLICK-

(Stan starts puffing and panting as he pushes something heavy that clearly doesn't want to budge. His tone sounds strained as he complains.)

{Stanley}:
Son of a truck..
Good riddance this thing is going over; I can't stand it. This is why I only drive the Stan mobile. Stupid blue colour, it's like the sky threw up.

(A lighter clicks with hands that are well practiced in this sort of thing. The flames whoosh as they quickly engulf straw, sparking and crackling. Stan shouts, like he's in a great amount of pain.)

{Stanley}:
'Oh no, my car! I'm Stanley Pines and I'm going to die!'

(Something large and metal creaks loudly in protest - perhaps because it's getting pushed off a cliff, perhaps because it's against the lie or perhaps for the insult against its paint job, it's hard to tell - before whistling through the air. There is silence and then a crash as it hits the forest floor. The car alarm scares away any critters nearby.)

{Stanley}:
Here lies 'Ugly-Mc-Uglyton-Number-Five'. You won't be missed but you did look good on fire. I hope you're falling off cliffs in Car Heaven.

(He slaps his hands on his knees with an air of finality.)

{Stanley}:
Alright! Now that's done, here comes the.. hard job.

-CLICK-

(A phone rings and fingers tap anxiously on a table 1-2-3-4-5, 1-2-3-4-5, 1-2-3-)

(A receiver clicks and a voice with a comforting and soft inflection plays like music in the Hut.)

{Stanley}:
Um, Hello Ma, it's me, Stanford... Yes. Yes. Well I'm afraid this isn't a, um, pleasure call, purse -apologies- per say.

Mhm.

Ma, I'm fine, I'm ok, but have you heard the news about Stan-

-CLICK-                          

{Stanley}:
Ya da ya da ya, it's Stanley, it's the 19th of March, all that good stuff. I probably need to practice what I'm going to say at the funeral today.

(He draws in a disgusted breath.)

{Stanley}:
Yikes. I just heard myself. Since when have I needed help with how to talk? I used to be able to charm myself with a hot meal or something.. but now I'm more like you Poindexter.

(Stan's voice changes to be toneless and robotic.)

{Stanley}:
"Beep! Boop! Nerd Robot!"
This the price you have to pay from talking to a piece of machinery.

Huh, don't think that I ever said why I started doing this, did I?
Truth is.. I dunno. Suppose I could probably keep track of anything to do with the machine on here. I guess I'm also doing my own research here too.

I reckon I could probably sell this on to a TV show: "Stan's Supernatural Sensationz!"
Then the show would make millions of dollars and I could finally come..

(Fabric rustles and shifts before buttons are popped together. It's not the first time that this suit is worn but this time it carries more weight to it.)

{Stanley}:
Ahem. Ma started tearing up over the phone as she talked about me. Said you hadn't called for a while. I can't believe you, Poindexter.

(Stan sighs forlornly and his suit ruffles.)

{Stanley}:
I'll try and call her at least once a year after this. Then again, that wouldn't be staying in character, would it? Speaking of staying in character: let me put on these glasses.

(Stan seems to stop breathing and the whole room holds its breath with him. A war of emotions must go through Stan's mind before he settles on a strong exhale.)

{Stanley}:
I'm.. pretty sure your vision without glasses is supposed to look sort of blurry, normally..

Maybe I'll keep these on standby for reading. Maybe.

I've just got to get through this. One hurdle after the other, right? And then you can swing in and explain what happened to you to her and then, well, um..
...

I-

...

Geez, not a very professional recording. Come on Stan! You knucklehead! You're supposed to be saving Ford by fixing the portal not becoming the world's saddest sad sack. It's just your longest con.

(Stan makes a frustrated cry of realisation.)

{Stanley}
Oh Waffles, his fingers! I'll just say that my fingers came off in an accident or something. Or, I could break my hand? Maybe he's got some gloves around here somewhere; I could try stuffing a pen into a finger..

Nah, that wouldn't work.

I'm sure this will be nothing to worry about and I'll just get drunk later, it'll be fine.

-CLICK-                   

(Large crash sound as several things fall heavily onto the floor and the noise echoes as they ring out loudly.)

{Stanley}:
Haha, whoopsy daisy. Hello old friend! I'm a bit- I've had a bit to drink. Just a little.. slice of the top of the drink. Little droplet, ya know? Yeah...

You want to know about the funeral? Mhm, the funeral. Did you know that there is the word 'fun' in 'funeral'? The people there stood around lookin' sad and stuff. And you want to know what the funniest part is? It's very funny, I promise.

It was me who died but I'm still here! Ha! The real guy is far, far away.

(Stan's words start to slur together. A bottle is uncorked and it rattles around the room like a gunshot. This followed by a greedy glug of liquid into a too big cup.)

{Stanley}:
You know what? Sixer, this one is for you, man! Even though- even when you are gone.

Maybe that's why I'm recording this, you know? We're talking again for the first time in a while. You hold a special place in my heart. My *hic* scarred and broken heart. I'm pretty sure it's just tape mashed together. You're a scientist I guess you'll know.

Or I guess you'd know...

Nah, I know that you are *hic* still out there somewhere. And I am- I will get you back! Whatever it takes!

Yeah. I'll drink to that. What is this? Moonshine? Maybe Ford's gone to the moon..

(A liquid sloshes around and Stan starts humming before he breaks out into song.)

{Stanley}:
This isss ground control to Majorrrr Forrrrd, I'm stepping through the doOooOoor-

-CLICK-                        

(Stan groans and mutters something about 'turning off the sun' under his breath.)

{Stanley}:
I don't think that I'm going to do anything ever again. What was in that drink? Literal nightmares? Considering all that I've seen that isn't completely.. unfavorable?
No, that's not it.
..
Unfathomable! Yes, it isn't too unfathomable!

(From far away, the letterbox squeaks open and a few envelopes drop to the carpet. The mailman pokes the mail through fast, like they're expecting to get trapped or shouted at for trespassing.)

{Stanley}:
Great. Having to pay water and electric bills is just what my budget needs, not to mention the mortgage for this house and student loans. I bet it's just all mainly junk anyway.

(Stan's reluctant footsteps make the floorboards creak but that's fine. He doesn't have to be quiet anymore. There's no police waiting above him to arrest him and no guys below to knock his lights out. With no care whatsoever he rips one of the letters open. Stan slowly reads something under his breath. He stops and scoffs.)

{Stanley}:
Really?
...
REALLY?
...
I just got an invoice bill from the elves who made my exhibition. Can you believe it?! Look! I'll read out what they wrote:

"Dear Mullet Man,"

Charming.

"We are writing to present you with a bill for all of our services. All our services are listed below alongside.."

(Stan wolf whistles. You can almost hear him raise his eyebrows.)

{Stanley}:
Moses, that's a lot of punishments for getting back to them late, I'm not even sure half of that is legal in this state let alone on Earth. They cannot be serious about the "making your ears go blue and turn them apple pie shaped" I mean that's just crazy. Right?

"Please deposit the amount requested next to the tree stump with pink and orange moss, ya da ya da ya da.."
I mean honestly, what kind of a fool do they think I am?

- CLICK -