Abnormal Gravity: A Parapines Fanfic

Chapter 12

(A.N: It's probably just gonna be "Chapter XX" from now on. Figuring out chapter titles is time-consuming and they always end up cheesy or bad anyways. Sorry)

Norman's shoe sunk beneath the boiling coffee and hit the submerged step. He let out a breath.

"How does it feel?" Dipper asked.

"Like... like nothing. Like it's not even there. Maybe a little warm."

"Then you're all good to go, right?" Mabel said. 

"I guess." Norman brought down his other foot and descended the rest of the steps till he hit the floor. The coffee came up to just above his knees, but he couldn't feel a thing. He looked back at the twins, who were beginning to sweat. 

"It feels fine."

"Well, good, then,"Dipper said. "We'll wait upstairs. If it doesn't work out, just get back up here and we'll escape through a window or something, alright?"

"Ok." Norman said. 

Dipper gave him a thumbs-up and a cheesy grin. Norman sheepishly smiled back. The coffee actually felt a little warm now. 

The twins retreated upstairs and Norman began his search. Because he was seemingly immune to whatever powers this ghost had, Norman could walk through the coffee normally, as if it wasn't there. Yet, the coffee still moved as if he was walking through it. It was a weird sight.

Norman walked around the Mystery Shack for the ghost for only a little while before he found the ghost floating in the gift shop. The water was halfway up his thighs now, but still gave no resistance. The ghost was facing away from Norman, looking out a window. Behind him, he had two pots of coffee pouring out more coffee than a coffee pot should be able to pour, and it didn't seem like it was running out anytime soon. But, the ghost's focus was on the window. He was currently pushing his hands on the window pane, probably trying to escape. But, the window remained resistant to his intangibilty, and the ghost gave up. He floated backwards a little and raised his hand. An empty coffee pot rose from the flood. The ghost threw his arm and the coffee pot shot at the window, where it shattered. Steaming hot coffee now coated the glass, but the window was unharmed. The ghost growled in anger. 

Norman took this chance to strike. He pulled out a ghost potato, and loaded it into the launcher. He carefully aimed and pulled the trigger. The potato launched with a fwoop and sailed through the air, towards the ghost...

And hit the wall to its left. It plopped ungracefully into the coffee. The ghost spun around. 

"Oh, crap."

"YOU!"  the ghost cried. It raised its arms and four coffee pots rose from the flood. The two pots pouring endless coffee stopped and joined as well.

"Oh, crap, oh, crap, oh..." Norman muttered as he fumbled with trying to get another potato out of his hoodie pocket. The quill got stuck in the fabric, and it wasn't coming free. The ghost swung its arms and the pots flew at Norman. The boy dropped the potato launcher, and quickly raised his arms in defense. 

There was a ripping sound and a jolt of pain in his free hand as he heard the pots shatter against him. But, strangely, that was it. The impact Norman was expecting didn't come. He lowered his arms. The ghost was looking at him rather strangely. Norman glanced at his hands. His right had a small red cut running across the palm. It wasn't deep, but it stung. The tip of the quill stuck through the potato in his left hand was a little red. It was the quill that cut him. 

The coffee pots had no effect at all.

The ghost, clearly disturbed, growled again and stretched out both arms. About a dozen coffee pots rose from the depths and floated in midair. 

"DIE!" the ghost screamed. The pots began flying at Norman like missiles. He raised his free arm to protect his face, but it wasn't needed. The pots shattered harmlessly upon striking him. Norman felt nothing. Arm still raised, he began walking towards the ghost, impervious to the assault. 

The ghost stopped when Norman was about five feet in front of him, his grotesque face a mask of confusion.

"How?HOW?" it screamed.

"Honestly?" Norman raised the skewered potato in his hand. "I have no idea." He tossed it at the ghost, straight at into the stomach.

"Is that a potAAAAH!?" The ghost, caught on the potato, flew backwards and sunk beneath its own flood of coffee. The effect of the ghost potato was instant. Immediately, the flood of boilinh coffee began to drain in a great vortex over the spot were the ghost landed. The coffee level fell rapidly and, in moments, all the coffee was gone, leaving the angry, fat ghost vainly trying to wrench itself from the gift shop floor.

"What... what is this? Release me!" the ghost demanded. He flung his hand at Norman, but nothing happened. It tried again and again, but its powers were sealed. 

Norman sighed and glanced at his cut hand. It was starting to hurt. He frowned at the livid ghost and walked past it to pick up the fallen potato under the window. He stuffed it back in his torn pocket - a sight which made him sigh again - and walked back to pick up the potato launcher. Still ignoring the yelling ghost, Norman walked out of the gift shop to meet his friends who had just turned the corner.

Norman held up the potato launcher.  "All done." He handed the launcher and ghost potatoes to Mabel.

"Really?" Dipper said, "Wow. You ok?"

"For the most part." Norman showed them his cut hand and torn pocket. "The quill got caught and it cut me and my hoodie. So, yeah."

"I told you it was sharp!" Mabel said.

"Oh, man," Dipper said, frowning. "Sorry about that."

"It's ok. It's an old hoodie anyways."

Mabel stepped forward and fingered the torn pocket. She snorted. "I could fix a tear like this in five minutes flat."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot you did that kinda stuff. And I'm sure we could find a Band-Aid or something in here."

"Oh, really? That's be great."

"No problem," Dipper said with a smile. "But first, we have a ghost to interrogate."