The Third Journal

Pages 111+112

Jan 17th

It is the night before testing day, and I'll admit that tensions are high. An hour ago, C and I had a dinner date at the local diner with the intention of toasting to our future success. But when I raised my glass, C couldn't meet my gaze. She told me that she was having second thoughts about the entire mission, and nervously slid a napkin across the table. On it was a diagram with the words "Probability of Failure."

She said that her final calculations had revealed deep flaws in our design- flaws that could have disastrous consequences. She felt we were being reckless, and urged me to reconsider the whole plan, for the safety of the town. Again, she questioned me about where I got the idea for this portal, and I almost considered telling her the truth... until she showed me something that shocked me. In her trembling hands was a thesis paper: "The Astonishing Anomalies of Gravity Falls" with MY NAME credited underneath. She explained that she had spent the last three days working without breaks and had written a paper exhaustively chronicling all my greatest discoveries.

"Publish this," she said, placing it on the counter. "This is your research, I just cataloged it for you. There are enough discoveries here to make us-you- a multimillionaire. With this, you will have everything you ever wanted, and you will not need to go through with this risky test. Forget about the portal and the Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness! Publish this, get your life back, and move on!"

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It was just as my Muse had warned me. How could someone I loved and trusted for so long actually suggest giving up now, when victory was nearly in our grasp? Was she planning on leaving me the scraps while she discovered the Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness herself? Was it to be a forgotten Tesla to her backstabbing Curie?

I asked for the check and refused to even give her insulting "thesis" paper a glance.

"We will do the test tomorrow night at eight o' clock sharp," I told her. "Be there or get left behind. The choice is yours."

I walked home in the murky twilight and felt something in my pocket. It was the ring that the "Palm Reader" had given me at the carnival.

It was black.

I tossed the ring into the lake.

Superstitions are for the weak.

I am a scientist.

And after tomorrow, I'll be a great one.