Summary: So maybe his great-niece and nephew weren't THAT least not all the time.


"Huzzah-what! ?" Stanford Pines snorted, jolting to consciousness and nearly bucking the twelve-year-old girl off his chest. As it was, Mabel only fell onto his lap with a grunt.

Stan rubbed at his aching eyes from behind his glasses with a crotchety groan before sending his great-niece a deadpanned look.

"Yay, you're not dead!" was all she exclaimed, pulling herself back up into a sitting position on his lap. "I wasn't sure if you were still breathing."

"Sure, kid," Stan muttered, glancing around Mabel's head to the television set portraying a scantily clad young woman running from some aquatic monster while screaming her head off. "Are we still watching The Thing?"

Dipper, who Stan belatedly realized was lying on his stomach on the carpet, his head propped up by both hands, answered with a shake of the head, gaze hardly straying from the old monster movie, "no, we finished that one. This is Creature from the Black Lagoon."

"Huh," Stan mumbled, leaning back into his chair with casual disinterest. He resisted the urge admit he'd already seen the 50's film over a hundred times and instead allowed his gaze to trail down towards the fat lug of an employee drooling on the carpet by his feet. "Grunkle" Stan then glanced to the novelty owl clock against the wall and his eyes bulged at the time. "Soos!" he hissed, kicking the slumbering handyman in the ribs, "get up you useless man-child."

"No…not the beavers!" Soos burbled sleepily, swatting his boss's slipper-clad foot away, only for Stan to kick him harder. "Ow…ow, ow, ow!" the portly man turned his head to glare halfheartedly at his boss. "What's the matter, Mr. Pines?"

Grunkle Stan's brow furrowed in annoyance. "You're the matter. It's nearly midnight—get outta here."

Soos' bottom lip quivered. "You mean you're kicking me out?"


The man-child inhaled sharply, pushing himself off of the floor. "Okay. I can see when I'm not wanted." He fist bumped Mabel and waved goodbye to Dipper on his way out the door. "Later, hambone."

"Bye, Soos!" the twins called back in unison, though their gazes never strayed from their movie. Stan observed them for several moments, noting how the monster film seemed to completely keep their attention, despite the cheap special affects and rare poor acting. They were enamored.

"Wow," he said aloud, though neither the girl in his lap or the boy on the ground turned to look at him, "you two are obsessed."

"We can learn from this stuff," Dipper shrugged, hardly reacting as the "Gill Man" tossed a few men around. Mabel nodded along in accord.

Stan scoffed. "you mean learning how to get your butts whooped by myths and legends?"

"They're not myths! We were attacked by gnomes that wanted to make Mabel their queen! The Gobblewonker may not have been real, but those wax figures did really come to life!" Dipper stressed, allowing his attention on the television set to waver enough for him to wave his arms pointedly over his head.

Still on her uncle's lap, Mabel bobbed her head. "Yup."

"See!" Dipper cried pointedly, "Why would we lie about this stuff?"

Stan only rolled his eyes, motioning towards the TV with an annoyed look. "Oh, just shut up and watch your stinking movie."

Mabel giggled at his exasperation. "You know you love us."

"Yeah, yeah…"


Stan jerked awake, his head jolting upwards at such a speed that his neck popped in two places. Groaning softly he managed to crack his neck and the tense feeling dissipated, and he allowed himself a relieved sigh. His beady eyes trailed across the room, and found the spot on the carpet where he'd last seen Dipper was empty. Then he felt something lean against his arm and found the boy lying on the armchair next to him, sound asleep, and his twin in the same state on Stan's lap.

He grimaced at the closeness and carefully moved himself out from under the girl, or tried to at the very least, as she grabbed and held onto one of his arms before he could free himself. Stan cursed under his breath and tried to pry Mabel's small hands off of him but it was nearly impossible without waking her.

After a few more fruitless minutes of trying and failing to free himself Stan collapsed back onto the armchair with a defeated grown. "Stinking kids," he mumbled, and as if the universe wished to prove him entirely wrong and make him suffer, Mabel turned around wrapped her arms fully around her great-uncle's, and released a small, happy sigh as she cuddled against him.

Stan allowed a rare smile to cross his crotchety features, and though it soon passed, he settled himself more comfortably on the easy chair. Maybe the kids weren't that bad….Maybe.