Grunkle Fidds (-A Fiddlestan Oneshot-)

Headhunters

Fiddleford Hadron McGucket-Pines sat with his niece and nephew, watching Ducktective.

Dipper was on the arm of the chair, eating popcorn. His sister was on the floor, knitting a sweater, while Fidds nursed a cup of tea on the armchair.

"I'm afraid your services won't be required here, sir." The constable on the TV said, "My men have examined the evidence, and this is obviously an accident."

Ducktective quacked, which apparently translated to:
"Accident, constable? Or is it... Murder?!"

"What?!"

"Ducktective will return after these messages."

Mabel gasped, dropping her sweater. "That duck is a genius!"

Her brother shrugged. "Meh. It's easier to find clues when you're that close to the ground."

She squinted at him doubtfully. "Are you saying you could outwit Ducktective?"

"I could totally do it! Right, Grunkle Fidds?"

He clicked his tongue. "Gee, I dunno, Dipper. That is one intelligent critter."

"Listen, I have very keen powers of observation. For example, just by smelling your breath, I can tell that you have been eating..." He sniffed. "An entire tube of toothpaste...?"

"It was so sparkly..." She mumbled in defense.

Soos ran into the room. "Hey, dudes, you'll never guess what I found!"

"Buried treasure!"

"Buried-- Hey, I was gonna say that!" Mabel pushed her brother playfully.

(---)

Soos lead the three of them to a door, which had been covered up with the wallpaper.

"So, I was cleaning up, when I found this secret door, hidden behind the wallpaper. It's crazy bonkers creepy!"

While the youngsters entered the room, Fiddleford froze.

He'd lived in this house for decades.

So, why couldn't he remember this door?

Why couldn't he remember this room?

Why can't he remember?

Why can't he remember?

Why can't he remember?

Wyh acn't eh remmeebr?

Hyw tna'c eh rmemereb?

W h y c a n ' t h e r e m e m b e r?

"Fidds? Hey, Fidds!"

Stanley's voice dragged him back into reality.

"Eh? Wha--?"

Stan, the twins and Soos were staring at him from inside the mysterious room.

"Are you okay, Grunkle Fidds?" Mabel asked.

"Yeah! Yeah, I was jus' finkerin'-- I-I mean thinkin'. Heh."

Stanley came forward and grabbed his husband's hand. "C'mon in! You remember the wax museum, right?"

He found himself nodding. "Y-Yeah. I do, actually."

"It was one of our most popular attractions... before we forgot all about it. I got 'em all! Genghis Khan, Sherlock Holmes..." He paused infront of wax Larry King. "Some kind of, I dunno, goblin man?"

Fiddleford laughed, his head falling on Stan's shoulder.

Dipper shuddered. "Is anyone else getting the creeps in here?"