Disclaimer: I do not own Gravity Falls.

Betaed by: Trackula and Zim'sMostLoyalServant

Monster Shack

Hairy Situations

Dipper was woken by his clock. Reaching out, he turned his face into the furry pillow, trying to avoid the sun. His hand found something and he pressed down on it. It was oddly unresisting and the alarm kept going off. So he hit it again, and again and again, pressing down.

"Op at," Pacifica mumbled. Behind him.

Dipper was awake. His head and arms were on Pacifica's llama back. And he had been pressing her tail. Looking around, he saw they were between the two very unmade beds, on the rug. Glancing back confirmed the warmth and weight was Pacifica likewise resting on his hindquarters.

"Oh no," Dipper muttered. And the alarm was still going off.

Unsure what to do, he reached back with one arm to awkwardly grab one of the sleeping blonde's wrists. But when he tried to lift it off, she tightened her hold.

"Well, this isn't good," he muttered. Then Mabel's old-fashioned alarm clock went off, the bell ringing shrilly.

"I'm up!" Pacifica shouted, her human body springing up. She stared at Dipper, then at his furry half with clear impressions still on it.

"Uhhh," she said as Dipper got up and turned off the alarm clocks.

"You don't have to pay me to forget that. Good thing Mabel is water-bound, I don't need more blackmail material," Dipper muttered. Pacifica nodded and slowly got up before she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and walked over to the bed. While she opened a suitcase to change for the day, Dipper made his bed. She probably couldn't make a bed either, he realized.

Walking over he saw she had put the case on her bed, which folded out into some kind of portable closet. Including…

"Pacifica, you brought shoes?" Dipper deadpanned looking at the footwear.

"Yeah of course. Oh," she said, looking down at her llama toes.

"I'm going to go look in on Mabel," Dipper declared. Pacifica nodded, picking up one of the shoes and inspecting it. Still, with him gone, she closed the door and pulled off her nightgown. Selecting the biggest longest hairbrush she had, the young lady braced herself and resolved that perhaps it was about time she attempted combing that unsightly back hair.

XXX

"Hi, I'm Grunkle Stan, I like money and singing karaoke with my awesome niece," Mabel said, holding up the "shed" stone skin as a mask. Stan himself frowned from where he was crouching at the table.

"You're making me seriously reconsider selling those. Besides, it really looks nothing like me," Stan grumbled, drinking his coffee. He was not so made out of money to risk another chair in such short order. Fortunately, his old faithful recliner, while an awkward fit, was up for the task. It held Soos, after all.

"Hmm, I don't know," Mabel sad holding out the mask to examine it. She took a slow drink of water. Hopefully that portable kiddie pool idea would take off soon enough.

"Ah, the herd comes to the table. What were you two doing up there, jumping over fences?" Stan asked as the Taurs came into the kitchen. Dipper was dressed for the day but Pacifca was still wearing her nightgown and looked a bit miffed.

Stan indicated the two salad bowls laid out. Pacifica perked her ears up and her eyes snapped wide while Dipper exchanged greetings with Mabel.

Pacifica held her bowl in front of Dipper, attracting his attention to it.

"Is this normal? 'Cause I am pretty sure it's not," Pacifica asked. Dipper looked to his own bowl and scowled at his Grunkle.

"Grunkle Stan, why is there grass in these bowls?" Dipper demanded.

"Ha, get your eyes checked kid. Those are lawn clippings, and with this lawn, I'd be shocked if even three-quarters of that is grass. Got a nice assortment of weeds chopped up in there," Stan chuckled.

"Oh don't look like that, kid. Having your face stick like that on top of everything else might ruin your summer. I checked the encyclopedia, and it says deer eat grass and stuff. I'm assuming the same is true for llamas since I lost the L book in the set in a poker game a few years back," Stan said, planting his elbows on the table.

"This sucks, where's the espresso? I need to wake up," Pacifica huffed.

"Espresso? What does this look like? Though I'll tell you what, if you can handle a mug o' that joe in the machine, I won't charge you for coffee rights while you stay," Stan laughed. He pointed out the ancient looking coffee machine held together by electric tape and Band-Aids.

While Pacifica walked over to the machine, Dipper pushed the clippings in his bowl around with a fork.

"Is this for real?" Dipper sighed. Stan rolled up his newspaper and used it to point.

"Look kid, my meat craving is getting fearsome, and my water bill is sure to spike with Mabel needing hydration. I have got to cut some corners, so you eating like a hippie could only wish is the best corner I got," Stan stated.

"Never mind all the money you keep hidden," Dipper grumbled.

"Come on, Dipper, don't knock it until you try it. Mermando told me fish taste great eaten raw and underwater and you don't see me shying away. Besides, all that fiber might give you super vision! My awesome underwater powers and Mabelness, combined with your large head, deer speed, and super vision – we will be the Super Mystery Twins!" Mabel proclaimed.

"Boy, eat the grass; you are not getting anything else," Stan said, unrolling the Gossiper. The headline declared "Domestic Disturbance Between Local Man and Woodpecker".

"Blaaaa!" Pacifica croaked she practically jumped over to the table and swiped Mabel's jug of water, chugging it down. And then grabbed a fistful of grass. She was still holding the coffee mug.

"Ha! I knew the princess couldn't handle a real cup of Bulk Discount Clearance Joe," Stan laughed.

"I don't know what this tastes like," Pacifica said, face pinched and ears flat. She took another sip and flinched. Followed by more grass and another sip.

"You're still drinking the horrible coffee," Dipper said.

"Need caffeine, or head will explode," She grumbled, before taking another sip.

"Well, I'll be pickled in peanut oil, the princess has the stuff for real coffee! I mean, if you can drink that near pudding sludge, you can handle anything claiming to be coffee," Stan said, before scarfing a piece of raw bacon.

Sighing, Dipper took a bite of the sadly very tasty greens. While Mabel called out for more water, and the llama girl next to him started tapping one foot while drinking her horrible drink.

And the day was only just starting.

XXX

Pacifica felt humiliated. The servant was not yet done making an outhouse, so she had to go in the woods. The cordially deferential man was clearly not going to win a race with her bladder, especially after that so-called coffee.

Dipper said it would stunt her growth; she would have laughed that off, but she could believe dangerous side effects from that stuff. But she couldn't not drink coffee. Ever since she needed to stay up for training for tennis matches when she was six, the hot drink had been the preferred method to keep her energized. Granted, it was her mother's idea, and her parents' wisdom had become suspect for some time now.

Deciding she had gone far enough, and recalling Dipper's warning not to go far, she looked around. Good enough?

"No, this is ridiculous! How do I even work this thing!?" she shouted, slapping her hind quarters.

"Is this punishment enough?" she asked the woods as she squatted down. Business done, she stood up and quickly walked away. That was very unpleasant.

"Did that get on my fur?" She wondered with horror, looking back.

"Shmebulock," the nearest bush said.

"EEEEKKK!" she screamed. Rearing up, she turned and stomped down on the bush. Flushing out… lawn gnomes?

"We've been discovered! Gnomes seize the enemy princess!" someone shouted. Then the little ugly men with beards came out in a surge.

XXX

Wendy looked up from the magazine. She was actually glad to have a customer. This stool was uncomfortable, but she just got up and off it since she had already adjusted the stock on the shelves. And… oh, it was Pacifica!

"Hey Princess, what have you got there?" Wendy asked. Pacifica had something wrapped in rope and it was struggling as she held it out as far as she could from herself.

"This horrible little man and his friends attacked me. I clobbered them and tied this chatty one up with his own rope. Think I can sell it to Mr. Pines?" Pacifica asked glaring at her prisoner.

XXX

Stan held the struggling, trussed gnome in his claws, squinting at him through his glasses. Except for Wendy, they were in the back, setting up the new tent. Well, Mabel was in a kiddie pool.

"Well, it's not really exhibit material, but I could use it in the gift shop," Stan said of the gagged Jeff.

"So, a hundred dollars?" Pacifica asked him.

"Ha, no. How about twenty dollars and some lessons in a practical everyday skill? Taxidermy," Stan said. Jeff yelled through the gag and Stan whacked him over the head, knocking his hat off.

"Haha, Grunkle Stan, you are such a kidder!" Mabel laughed, splashing water, "As if you'd ever kill a thinking creature for a quick buck."

Stan's eyes widened, and he tossed the little monster back to Pacifica.

"Yeah, joking," Stan said, sweating as he recalled the mer-skeleton in the Shack.

"Wait, so are we killing this thing or, like, what?" Pacifica asked, holding the little man as far away from herself as possible. Dipper walked up to the angry little man, looking irritated.

"First you try and kidnap Mabel, now Pacifica? Aren't there any gnome women for you to harass?" Dipper asked.

"Think you're so smart don't you, ex-human? Well, at least I'm not so dumb as to bathe in the Spring of Changing and end up a losertaur," Jeff snapped.

"The spring of what now?" Dipper asked surprised. Pacifica's ears also stood up.

"You don't know?" Jeff remarked, surprised.

"Don't know 'yet'," Stan clarified. Jeff smiled coyly at Dipper.

"Well it just might be I know something to deal with your species problem. If you make it worth my while. Say, marriage to Mabel?" Jeff cackled.

"Ew," Mabel said in her pool.

XXX

Dipper walked into the kitchen with Jeff in hand and, reaching the counter, plugged the appliance in. Pacifica followed after, while Grunkle Stan lingered in the doorway.

"Sure you got this?" Stan asked.

Dipper took the lid off the blender and turned it on. As the blades whirred, Stan cracked a smile.

"The boy is learning," the shyster sighed. He turned and left the boy to the leg-breaking work.

"Okay Jeff, I don't like you and you don't like me. So if you know a way for me to lose the furry bit and extra limbs, spill. Or you get to be part of the next batch of Mabel juice," Dipper said.

Jeff laughed in Dipper's face.

"Ha! You haven't got what it takes, deer boy! I think I ride your cousin for groceries on Thursday," the gnome laughed. Dipper frowned, but did not drop the gnome.

"Move over Dipper, I don't think you're doing this right," Pacifica said from behind them.

"Too late, you already beat me up!" Jeff declared, as Pacifica considered the running blender.

"Father always said when interrogating the little people, never start with death threats. Like, work up to them. Tell Dipper what he wants to know or… I shred this totally stupid hat," Pacifica said, holding his red gnome hat over the hungry blender.

"Really, that's your plan? Mess with his wardrobe?" Dipper face-palmed.

"Hey, like, wardrobe is important!" Pacifica defended.

"He's a guy, Pacifica. You could drop the hat and he'll just-"

"NOT MY HAT! Barbarian mountain savage club swinger, don't you dare harm my hat!" Jeff screamed, almost breaking free from Dipper's grip with his sudden squirming.

Dipper blinked and Pacifica smirked at Dipper before lowering the brim of the hat to the top of the cylinder.

"Tell me all you know about the Springs of Changing, or I will shred and totally eat this, your precious little hat, gnome!" Pacifica threatened.

Pacifica carried the bound gnome out into the yard, Dipper following, looking over the new notes he had put into the journal.

"So I told you what you want. Now you have to let me and my hat go," Jeff said. Pacifica shoved his hat down to cover his eyes.

"Yeah, you can go. Here you, GO!" she said throwing him up into the air. She turned and kicked him as he fell with her hind legs, sending the screaming gnome flying.

"Uh, we could have untied him first," Dipper pointed out.

"Oh, like, whoops?" Pacifica said, turning to face the forest. Jeff screamed as something rustled in the woods, and carried him off, judging by the fading sounds of his screaming.

"Like, should we?" she asked Dipper, gesturing in the general direction she had sent the creepy little man flying.

"Let's not go nuts, now. And this spring could be the answer to our problems. Magic water from deep in the Earth that can change species. Might explain why Gravity Falls has such a diverse cryptid population," Dipper commented, tapping his chin with the pen.

"Like, that's interesting Dipper, but I'm more interested in a bath that will let me wear khakis again," Pacifica commented gesturing to her lower half.

"Right. I say we hit up Soos for some supplies, get Wendy for support, and follow these directions back to being bipedal!" Dipper declared.

"You forgot the part where you went to work," Grunkle Stan said, suddenly looming over the two.

XXX

"I will remember this, Stanford Pines, and you will pay," Pacifica growled in the back of her throat. She frowned at her mouth filling up with spit and the urge to let it fly. Wincing, she swallowed it.

"Okay there, Pacifica?" Dipper asked. He had pulled the curtain separating them aside to peer in. Darn, he looked so cute with those deer ears! Why couldn't she have been an elegant doe?

Not that she wanted four legs to the natural two, but really, this shaggy barrel was only elegant compared to pigs and other unthinkables. Besides, Dipper would probably have preferred it, too.

Well, at least she still had toes, she thought, turning to face him.

Their pens were in the back, on the way to the Bottomless Pit. They were in three-sided tents, with ropes separating them from the tourists.

"Just making a mental receipt of what your Uncle will owe me as payback," she told him.

"Good luck with that. Only Mabel has ever had luck getting him to own up. And she is loving this," he said. They both winced as Mabel's latest rendition of the Little Mermaid theme reached them.

"Well, at least you get to wear a tiara, Grunkle Stan and Mable had to be convinced to let me wear clothes. I had to remind them of the 'fake' angle," Dipper pouted. Ah, his ears were dipping!

"You really think they will fall for that? I mean, this is not the movies; they can see this is no CGI. Costumes are not this good," she said, gesturing to the brown furred farm animal that had replaced her butt.

"Trust me, selling the fake will not be a problem. At least no one's mind will melt this time," he muttered. She wondered what that was about, but a bell was rung and Dipper let the curtain slip back into place.

Showtime.

"And ladies and gentlemen, the Mystery Shack holds far more than simply specimens and artifacts. Here, hidden from the eyes of the world for only a reasonable entrance fee, living wonders!

"The tent of 'half-human, half-WHATs?!" the literal old gargoyle proclaimed.

"Behold, discovered in Lake Gravity Falls itself, the great Pink Freshwater Mermaid!" Mr. Pines declared.

"Hi! I'm Mabel! And I take song requests!" Mabel called out. Pacifica rolled her eyes as the former sweater girl broke into song; she had not improved since the karaoke party. And the tourists were audibly oohing, awing, and snapping pictures.

Soon enough, they moved on from the aquatic ham to the next pen. Pacifica walked over and cocked her ears, listening in.

"And next, a rare wonder of the forests. The Large-Headed Deer Boy! No flash photography please, he startles, postcards are available in the gift shop at reasonable prices," the old man proclaimed.

And more oohhs, ahhs, and presumably non-flash pictures being taken.

"Say it," she caught the old man whisper.

"*Sigh* I am just a faun of all this attention," Pacifica winced herself at the bad, bad pun.

"Haha! Throw money in the pen and you can see him jump around," the routine continued.

"Momma, can I pet the deer boy?" some kid asked.

"Hey kid, read the sign! This is not a petting zoo," Stan snapped.

"It's fake anyway, darling, you can see the zipper just like with the cashier," a woman said.

"And now, all the way from the distant Andes. A scion of llama royalty dating back for centuries, the mysterious Llama Princess!" Stan proclaimed, unveiling her.

She gave the lot of repulsive humanity a glare before turning her nose away and kicking up the dirt with her back left foot.

"Ohhh!"

"Hey, if she's from South America, why is she blonde?" a nerdy-looking tourist man asked.

"Why? Because she dyes it, smart guy. Now, royalty is snotty, as usual, so you have to throw money if you want to see any tricks," Stan said, leaning on the corner post. It groaned a bit under his weight, she noted, and then some idiot threw a fistful of change into her face.

"Ha! Good aim, but paper gets you more, it's a delicacy in the llama court," Stan laughed.

His head actually recoiled a bit when the spit hit him in the back of the head, knocking his precariously placed hat off.

The crowd applauded; she blushed and backed up in the tent. Stan shot her a look as he picked up his hat, and then smiled for the crowd as he took out a handkerchief to wipe off the back of his head.

"Haha, yeah, llamas will do that. And now the Bottomless Pit, you really should not throw your money into," the gargoyle said, leading them off.

"Dipper? Okay over there?" she asked, parting the curtain. He was still looking around the floor for any loose change, the cash jar tucked in one arm.

"More or less. Dignity bruised and battered, but no worse than the wolf boy incident. You?" he asked, bending down to pick up a quarter.

Scratching her llama ears, Pacifica decided to own up.

"Sacrificed some dignity for revenge. There was much rejoicing, it seems," she answered sardonically.

"Just listen to you two! You get to do some honest to Moses show business and you can't enjoy it because of dignity? Loosen up and enjoy the ride, like me, Mabel," Mabel called.

XXX

Stan's humming had a deeper quality to it, but like his expression, for all the difference it was exactly the same. The gargoyle was happily laying out the money from the tent jars to count. He was down to the cents now, pilling them to uniform heights before wrapping them in change rolls.

Drumming her claws on the countertop, Wendy's sniffed the air; the tourist smell was always around, but she could tell the difference between current and former occupancy now. Just like with the door open she could hear no cars or buses were coming.

Sitting down on the floor, she scratched behind her left ear with her hind foot as her body shifted. Padding around the counter, she sat down to face the gargoyle who regarded her with a sideways glance.

"Why can't you just scratch with your hand?" he asked.

"What, can't you just wait until later to count the money? Not like it's going anywhere with how tightly you lock it down," she answered.

"Heh, I was like this before. Mabel I can get, but you seem far too comfortable in that fur coat, and on all fours," he commented.

"Hey, it's either flow with it or be like Pacifica and Dipper and make it a big deal. Until it's over, I can do new stuff, and it's like having coffee for blood," she said, planting her claws on the counter.

Stan was about to reply when she grabbed a roll of quarters in her teeth.

"Wendy, don't you dare," he growled. Her eyes sparkled and her tail wagged, then she was off and the chase was on.

Dipper and Pacifica stopped on the porch as Wendy tore out of the Shack and Stan pounded out behind her.

"That's it! You are so feeling the sting of the newspaper! Sunday Edition!" he roared as he chased the darting red wolf in denims around the yard/parking lot.

"Should we help?" Dipper asked. Pacifica looked up from brushing her lower back with a deluxe brand brush.

"Two predators running around hyper and angry? I'd say we don't have a dog in this fight," she shrugged, before lowering herself to sit on the porch floor and resume her grooming.

"She's a wolf, not a dog," Dipper asserted.

"Not so sure about that. I'd say your Uncle owes us a pair of sodas, would you mind? I can brush you after? It will help you stay cool," she offered.

"Soda yes, having someone else do my hair, er, fur? No," he said, ducking in. When Stan got angry, he could just say it was Pacifica's idea. She would not even mind, as she seemed to like butting heads with his Grand Uncle.

Which was a good thing. It shamed him to say, even knowing it was Stan, his instincts were more inclined to back down before a predator like a gargoyle. All that progress in standing up for himself, only for a polymorph spell to set him back.

Only in Gravity Falls.

What had Bill meant? If anything, this showed the mind 'is' a plaything of the body.

Take Wendy – at times she seemed like a totally different person. And the only change was her species. It was reassuring that Mabel, Stan, and Robbie seemed essentially the same. Pacifica… he could not be sure. She had barely emerged from that Northwest shell, so who could say what was the transformation, and what was that 'real' Pacifica edging out bit by bit?

That was a real mystery, Dipper thought as he palmed the loose change needed for two sodas.

That Friday:

Pacifica looked around the woods; the trees were light thick here, and there was grass underfoot instead of the floor of pine needles and moss.

She could hear Wendy as well as glance at the red werewolf prowling a circle about them on all fours. Pacifica repressed a shudder.

"Hmm, we need open ground to check our position. Or we could climb a tree," Dipper remarked checking his book.

"To climb a tree, you'll need to call over the werewolf for that, Dipper," She said, tapping his tail. He sprang forward a little bit and glared back at her. She gave him a grin; she was right, after all.

Rather than argue, he looked around and pointed to his left.

"There's some open ground," he declared. They ran in that direction. He seemed faster than her, but that just meant she had to pick up the pace. Tripping was not nearly as big a worry with four legged stability.

"Hey!" she shouted as Wendy darted next to her. Was her tongue dangling out?

Fortunately, Dipper stopped when they hit the meadow. Wendy kept going, and Pacifica stopped to stand between her and Dipper.

The werewolf regarded her with a cocked head, seemingly surprised. Pacifica looked away and she heard the wolf pad off, sniffing the ground.

'That one may like being a dog better than a human,' she thought, not for the first time. Turning her attention to the deer boy, he was sitting down, checking the horizon, a map, and his journal.

For all they knew, this Pool of Change might not even exist. The Author's writings even admitted he failed to find it.

They had the day off to follow this Gnome rumor. Mr. Pines was losing business to some shyster in the next town over. Apparently the roadside attraction was touting a new attraction, a tree stump that looked like Abraham Lincoln. So, taking the servant and the car, he was "casing the joint". Which left them free to explore deep into the forest.

Mabel, much to her disappointment, couldn't come. Because, mermaid.

As for dog girl… Well, neither of them wanted to say no to a carnivore, and why not bring her? Mabel seemed to imply something about the red fur's presence. Pacifica made a note to ask about that.

There was granola in her saddlebag and beef jerky for the wolf girl. Still, she was peckish and not inclined to waste what she had.

Sitting down, she grabbed a handful of the uncut grass and started to chew it. On her third mouthful, Dipper spoke up.

"Uh, Pacifica?" he asked.

"*Gulp* Yes?" she answered, swallowing.

"Are you grazing?" he asked. Eyes wide, she looked at the grass held in both her hands. Pacifica released her grip and let the wind take it.

"No," she stated firmly.

"Yes you were!" Wendy yipped. Pacifica and Dipper both jumped at the wolf revealed in the tail grass downwind of them.

"Sorry," Wendy said, standing up on her hind legs.

Closing her eyes, she sniffed the air. The two Taurs caught their breaths, one of them glaring at the larger creature.

"But this is weird, this meadow smells a bit like my Dad. Not "like him-like him", but this much testosterone reminds me a bit of him," she muttered.

"Oh, and I found some weird tracks, Dipper," she said, going back down to all fours. Dipper went over to where the tracks were visible, pressing down through the grass.

"These seem familiar," Dipper hmmed as they inspected the tracks.

"I don't like them," Pacifica declared, crossing her arms.

"I 'have' seen these before," Dipper asserted.

"You met what made these tracks and you don't remember?" Pacifica asked. Wendy chuckled, tail wagging.

"You have no idea, Pacifica. Dipper is the master at this sort of thing. When Stan was on vacation, he singlehandedly- Hey!" Wendy said as Pacifica followed the tracks.

A tree line revealed much rockier terrain, and a sign.

"Well, not so far from civilization," Pacifica remarked. Wendy went up to the sign as Dipper followed them.

"Pain Hole?" Wendy read. Dipper smacked his face with his hand.

"That's it. We're on the door step of the Man Cave!" Dipper exclaimed.

"Man Cave? Cavemen?" Pacifica asked.

"Worse, Manotaurs. That is their Pain Hole, it's a hole they stick their hands in to feel pain," Dipper exclaimed. Pacifica frowned and reached back to scratch at her hairy bottom.

'I better not get fleas,' she thought.

"A hole that causes pain? What's in it?" She asked. Wendy was sniffing the edge of the hole, glancing in.

"Smells… like a hole," Wendy whispered.

"Nothing's in it but pain, apparently," Dipper answered.

"Okay Dipper I have seen a 'lot' – I am currently half llama and am an involuntary vegetarian. But a hole filled with pain?" she demanded flatly.

Eyes narrowed, Wendy stuck her elongating snout slightly into the hole.

"Listen, I know it makes even less sense than usual. But we should go, Manotaurs can be pretty… stoked. And I didn't part ways with them on the best -"

"AWOOWWWWWW!" Wendy howled jumping back away from the pain hole. Landing on all fours, practically all wolf save for her claw hands and still long hair, she barked indignantly at the hole.

Then, taking a breath she turned to look at the two, spotting Dipper behind Pacifica.

"Yeah, full of pain. My bad, bad idea," she groaned, pawing at her snout.

"WHO DARES STICK THEIR THINGS IN OUR PAIN HOLE?!" The ground rumbled and then it sounded like a stampede as the ground shook.

Wendy darted over in front of the Taurs, baring her teeth and the fur on her back standing up through the holes in her jacket.

The Manotaurs were charging… well, okay, not really, more like running in a group. If they really were charging, Dipper had no doubt they would be tearing up the ground and making a lot more noise.

And they were just as hairy and noisy as he remembered.

"Wendy, whoa, these guys are tough, don't start anything," he said to the growling werewolf.

Twenty-some Manotaurs stopped a few yards away, looking them over while grumbling angrily. A familiar one with a yarmulke on stood forward pouting his finger accusingly.

"Werewolf, and lesser Taurs! Why have you trespassed on Manotaur territory!" he demanded.

"Dipper," Pacifica muttered, glancing back at him.

"Okay, let me talk to them, I know these guys," he said. He walked past her and she grabbed his tail. He stopped, surprised, at that, and looked back at her. She looked spooked, like with the ghost, almost.

"Don't worry, these guys aren't that bad, I actually hung out with them for a while," he assured her. She let his tail go. With a sigh, he walked out past Wendy, who gave a confused canine sound.

"Dipper?" she asked.

"Hey guys, it's been awhile. How you doing?!" he asked, smacking a fist on his chest. They stared at him.

"Do we know him?"

"I don't talk to deers, or half-deer."

"Chutzpar, come on! It's me Dipper, the Destructor?" Dipper asked. He took off his hat as if that would help. With the ears, he realized it might not.

"Destructor? What?" Wendy asked. Chutzpar closed one eye and looked him over.

"Nah, that guy was shorter."

"And less hairy," Another Manotaur spoke up.

"Oh, come on! I tried to join your tribe; I did lick on tattoos, hung out in your man cave and did all kinds of trials. I even stuck my hand in the pain hole," Dipper griped.

"PAIN HOLE! WHICH OF YOU UNMANLY OUTALNDERS DARED DESECRATE THE SACRED PAINHOLE WITH GIRLY SCREAMS?!" Leaderaur demanded, emerging from the rock formations.

"Dipper!" Wendy and Pacifica shouted.

"…I did!" Dipper declared.

"YOU?! ONE WHO IS HALF MEAT AND HALF WIMP?!"

"Yeah, so, what are you going to do about it?"

"YOU MuST BE PUNISHED. BY EATING A LIVE SCORPION!"

Chutzpar held out a large purple scorpion by the tail.

"Do you just carry that with you?" Dipper asked.

"Yes, now chow down. No mustard allowed!" the Manotaur said.

"Uh I'm a vegetarian?" Dipper said.

"It's not meat, it's a bug," Chutzpar stated.

"Eat it! Eat it! Eat it!" the Manotaurs chanted.

"THEN THERE'S THE TRESPASSING. ONE OF YOU MUST FACE ONE OF US IN A FACE-HITTING CONTEST!" Leaderaur commanded.

"Wait, what is Dipper eating a bug for then?" Pacifica demanded.

"THAT'S FOR THE PAIN HOLE, TRESPASSING IS DIFFERENT!" the massive black Manotaur explained, snorting fire.

"Fine, I'll do it, against him," Wendy declared, pointing to Chutzpar.

Pacifica watched as Dipper, with clear disgust, bit down on the scorpion and Wendy lightly tapped her snout then brow while Chutzpar seemed to hit himself in the face full-force.

Chutzpar finally went down, the Manotaurs looking at the undaunted Wendy in awe.

"She's made of iron! Iron wolf! Iron wolf!" they began to chant, save for the big one.

"Ugh, scorpions taste terrible," Dipper groaned, Pacifica rubbing his back.

"Water?" she asked, pulling a canteen from her saddlebags. Dipper nodded. Reaching down, he pulled some grass free and started to chew on it to get rid of the taste.

"LAWN DESECRATION!" Leaderaur bellowed. The Manotaurs gasped, and Dipper stopped chewing and spat out the grass.

"Oh, come on! I am no eating another scorpion," Dipper groaned.

"You're sure it wasn't poisonous?" Pacifica asked.

"No you won't, Destructor," Chutzpar said, pulling out a big banged-up book. Its title read "Buk of Man!"

"According to the book, the penalty for eating the lawn, is the Leader eats one of your legs," he said.

"FETCH THE BBQ SAUCE!" Leaderaur commanded, licking his lips.

"No way, where does it even say I can't eat the grass? There should be a sign," Dipper objected. It was a long shot, but the Manotaurs, if distracted, just might devolve to hitting each other and forget.

The Manotaurs all pointed to a sign by one of the rock formations. It was crudely nailed together and the letters had been painted in tar: DUN EET DA GROS.

"Is that even English?" Wendy asked.

"No, it's Manish!" Testosteraur shouted.

"Well, you can't eat his leg!" Wendy roared, jumping between the Taurs and the giant.

"What are you upset about? He'll still be up one from where he started!" Chutzpar asked. Pacifica stomped her forelegs down and pointed at Leaderaur.

"You can't eat his leg because… it belongs to me!"

"WHICH ONE?"

"All of them! In fact, he is my property in total!" she said.

"Excuse me?" Dipper sputtered.

"Shut up!" she snapped back at him.

The Manotaurs muttered among themselves, going into a huddle. The trio heard only the occasional bit as the monsters raised a head to glance over at the intruders.

"What's that thing about girls again?"

"What do we do around girls?"

"Can it be?"

"He's a wimp."

"But she is a llama, how'd that happen?"

"Out of his league."

"…Impressive."

"Break!" and the Manotaurs broke out of their huddle. Though bruised, and with an eye swollen shut, Chutzpar stepped forward.

"Dipper the Destructor! You are a wimp! And as such you should pay for eating our lawn. However, not only do you have a girlfriend, but she is a llamataur, which ranks much higher than deertaur on the manliness chain of nature. For this achievement, you are promoted from Wimp to Planer status, and thus forgiven."

"Planer, Planer, Planer!"

"Uh, don't you mean player? I think that's a typo," Wendy asked.

"No, it says right here. P-R-L-U-N-N-U-R, planer. Clearly men good with ladies hang out in the flat places with lots of grass," Chutzpar said, handing the book to Wendy.

Since no one seemed likely to get eaten or beaten up, the Manotoaurs quickly took to fighting each other, while Wendy flipped through the book.

"Huh, slugs the size of fists outrank blind squirrels. Unless the blind squirrel has a sword. Oh, bad news for Mabel, mermaids and it look like all water-breathers are defined as loser," Wendy laughed, looking through the book.

"You're my girlfriend?" Dipper asked.

"Shh, do you want to lose a leg?" Pacifica demanded. The Taurs snuck off, unbeknownst to Wendy, who settled on her haunches to watch the fight. It was like pay per view wrestling, but real, better, and free.

XXX

"A Multi-Bear?" Pacifica asked. Dipper was trying to recall the route and did not want to get lost. He had stopped here last time by this brook to drink. A buck deer had been here and currently was letting Pacifica stroke his back.

Apparently they did not register as a danger to it.

"Possibly 'the' Multi-Bear. The Manotaurs acted like there was only one. Though I wouldn't count on them for facts," Dipper admitted.

"Yeah, those guys are idiots. Why would you want to join their tribe anyway?" Pacifica asked.

"Uhh, the Multi-Bear's mountain is this way!" Dipper said darting into the woods.

"Hmph!" Pacifica huffed. With a final pat she bid the deer farewell and took off after the deer boy.

Shortly:

"No," Pacifica declared.

"Oh, come on, this won't be trouble. I'm nimble," Dipper insisted. Pacifica glared at the mountain looming before them. It might not be much height-wise for a mountain, but it looked like a tough climb.

"You said it wasn't easy getting up there before. And you were human then. Deer aren't made for climbing, you are not going up there," she insisted.

"What, you just want to wait for the magical bear to come down? Who knows how long that will take," Dipper objected.

"We are not waiting. I am going up. Llamas are built for mountains," she announced.

He objected, of course, but she started her ascent regardless. And a few glares ended his attempts to follow.

It was more tedious than terrifying, she found. Checking each approach, feeling out trails. Five times she had to backtrack when it proved unable to get her to the cave.

Which only made sense; bears might be climbers, but they weren't monkeys. The inhabitant would need to be able to come and go.

At last she found herself at the cave mouth. Which was littered with bones.

"Oh, one dollar bills," she cursed. She probably should have taken something of Dipper's as proof of association or something.

'Okay, don't worry, Dipper said the Multi-Bear demanded to know why he had come. So this could be talked out.'

"Uh hello? Like, any Multi-Bear in there?" she called into the cave mouth.

"…Enter," a distinguished voce called. It almost sounded British, maybe Upper Class East Canadian? How had her parents thought to educate her on upper class dialects and accents but not that sharing existed as neither handout, bribe, nor social investment?

She was surprised to see a stereo in the cave. And other stuff she guessed was looted from campsites, like a more enterprising Yogi Bear.

"Young Llamataur, what business has your tribe with me?" the Multi-Bear said as it rose up, revealing itself.

Dipper had explained what the Multi-Bear was. Not just heads but extra limbs, like someone had mashed a bunch of bears together. It had sounded amusing, ridiculous. But like a ghost with an axe in his head, it was scary in person.

Or it would be, if each bear head was not wearing a shower cap.

That was ridiculous in another sense. And Pacifica found she could just stand there and stare, her mind sort of grinding to a halt at the sight.

"Wait," the creature spoke looking her over, "Those clothes were not made by wilderness dwellers. And no llamataur would dye their hair."

SNIFF. SNIFF.

"That smell, can it be? Yes! NORTHWEST!" he roared, all his mouths joining in shaking the cave. That snapped her out of it, letting her leap away as the Multi-Bear charged at her, fangs bared. All of them.

"I know not what trickery you plan! But I will not be deceived!" he growled.

"Wait! I'm not-"

"Silence! Your kind always lies! Your lineage is a vine dripping poison, every fruit foul! I will not listen, I will avenge!" he growled.

Almost unconsciously, she took a nervous step back as the massive wall of… bear advanced upon her. Each head growled and snarled at her with equal fury, with the exception of one at the lower right that just looked confused. She held up her hands to try and pacify the beast, but showing she was no threat was a rather ridiculous notion.

She OBVIOUSLY was no threat, the Multi-Bear knew that already. That wasn't what this was about. Her thoughts were interrupted by a sweep of claws and teeth careening towards her in equal parts. The bizarre anatomy of the attack almost stunned Pacifica into losing her head. But the llama in her wasn't so easily cowed and her powerful legs sprang her aside just as the head passed her.

However, even as she dodged the fatal strike she felt sharp pain in her scalp. Fearing a head wound, her hand sprung up and felt around. Her eyes narrowed when realized the extent of the damage. The cave-dwelling freak hadn't opened her head up, THAT she could live with… well, no, but that was beside the point. He had torn up her HAIR!

"Like, you just made a big mistake."

There was no more room for fear. Only on the one hand, a wrong that had to be avenged, and the other hoof, a problem to be solved.

She watched it stop its charge and turned to face her again. It turned smoothly enough; its design was a bit columnar. But that meant turning smoothly required stopping.

A contest of physical might had only one outcome. So guile was needed.

As it charged and she evaded again, she considered the shower caps. Blind it?

No! Ridiculous, at best she could cover two sets of eyes at a time. Which still left lots of eyes unobscured, no gain worth the risk.

It should be clumsy; its anatomy belonged even more in the Mystery Shack than her own. But it wasn't clumsy – it knew how its own body worked just as she had learned hers. But just because she knew her body did not mean she didn't suffer drawbacks.

Balance, it occurred to her as he rose onto his hind legs again. It was still top heavy, and as good as it may be at keeping balance, once it was lost it would fall hard.

But how?

Then it hurled bones at her.

The unexpected attack caught even the llama flat footed. Arms raised to protect her face, the projectiles slamming into her like hard tennis balls. Her stomach, her chest, her arms, and one even clipped her flattened ear.

She bleated out in pain at the assault. That had been unexpected – she had never thought such a powerful brawler would be proficient in something like that. So much for the half planned form of outwitting it.

"Did you mistake me for my gentle ancestors?! The Manotaurs see my music as a sign of weakness, but there is reason they must send outsiders for my heads!" he roared.

But he could be beaten; Dipper had done it. Against something that could beat those brutes. How? Not by being smarter, but fighting smarter.

Pacifica slumped and staggered back. Her mother had schooled her on crocodile tears, an excellent tool for herding the masses she had said. Well now it actually was of use.

"Please, mercy," she said, lowering her arms as if she couldn't keep them up. Legs trembling, crying pain tears, she must look pathetic.

He advanced; as she thought, like the ghost, it was not going to be quick with its revenge certain. Like her father, Dipper a bit, and herself – wanting to make the defeated feel even more defeated.

"One does not equal three. And I doubt your kind grieves as others do. What is grief and loss to the selfish?" the Multi-Bear declared. He was looming over her.

"Whatever scheme you had failed. The scales won't be balanced, but it is a start. Perish, NORTHWEST!" he roared.

Her illusion of weakness vanished as she pivoted, and struck out with her hind legs. She connected with its knees, and sprang forward, clear of its claws.

"Raaagh!" it cried out in distress.

"Timber," Pacifica growled as it fell to the ground, scattered bones crunching at the impact.

Before it could gather its wits, she sprang onto its chest, all of her weight hitting on her front legs, knocking it further down and the air out of it. Its eyes all closed at the hard hit. They opened to her planting a sharp toe on the talking head's throat.

"You have heads to spare, but I think this one is the pin that holds up the bun," she panted angrily. Her toes weren't sharp like a knife, but they were rough and suited to purchase, they would tear with the force her leg could bring.

The Multi-Bear tensed a moment, and then seemed to relax.

"Yet again, I am bested by a child's cunning. Last time I made a final request, but I will not waste such on you. At least I can face my forefathers saying I fought my hardest to avenge them," he said. He was unhappy, but not afraid.

He was talking about Dipper, and without even knowing her, refused to put her in the same category.

Pacifica wanted to kill him. He had tried to kill her, a stranger! And after all that had happened and been forced on her, it would be so sweet to retake some control. And her hair, the style was ruined!

"Our family name is broken, I'm going to fix it," her own words reached her perked ears.

Yes, this was like with the ghost, wasn't it? Sure, Dipper could have gotten rid of it. But that wasn't fixing the problem; it was only escaping the consequences.

The bear rolled, hard and fast. She slipped, her threatening foot pulled back in surprise. She fell on her side. By the time she gained her feet, he had gained his.

He growled. No rage now, they both seemed to be past that. How long had this been going on?

The magical creature bore down one claw raised to strike. Her legs tensed, her arms useless for attack wanted to spring up to protect her upper body. Pacifica held them in place.

She let the blow land, pain exploding along her length as she was lifted off her feet.

The llamataur hit the cave wall and plopped to the floor.

"Ouch," she whimpered.

"…What is this? You could have evaded that. What purpose could letting yourself be wounded serve?" Multi-Bear asked.

"I'm not, like the others," Pacifica panted. Was she bleeding? She felt like she might be bleeding.

"What's going on!?" Dipper bellowed.

"Dipper Pines?" The Multi-Bear asked in surprise, looking past her. She wanted to too, but she was facing the wrong way and trying to twist at her wait made her feel lightheaded… oh, the lightheadedness wasn't stopping?

"Idiot. You're not supposed to climb up here," she growled. Then she found herself compelled to give the cave floor a kiss.

XXX

"Pacifica?" someone called her name. She felt stiff; she did not want to get up yet. She waved her arm to tell the servant to leave her alone. Instead she lightly smacked someone in the face.

That wasn't right. They never came so close to her bed.

Or called her by name.

Her eyes opened and what she saw made no sense. Until it did, as reality snapped back into place. She was laying on something soft, and Dipper was hovering over her holding a small plastic bottle. Paciifca sniffed the air and gagged.

"Guess the smelling salts worked," Dipper said, standing back up. They were still in the cave, and she stiffened at the sight of the Multi-Bear approaching. With two steaming chipped mugs?

"Don't worry. He held back, so it wasn't deep at all. Bernard has loads of healing herbs we applied. Should probably change it when we get back, but-" Dipper as cut off as Paciifca reached up and grabbed him by the shirt.

She yanked him down, forcing his forelegs to practically do the split. She exhaled hard into his startled face.

"I told… you not… to climb!" she said. He blinked, then scowled.

"Seriously? We could have avoided all this if I had come!" he exclaimed.

"Mmm. Idiot," she muttered, letting him go. Closing her eyes, she cradled her head; it felt like it was going to split in two. She recognized the smell of coffee and reflexively took the cup put into her hands.

She took a long drink, not good, but not bad. She wondered if it really was or like with eating at the Mystery Shack, her tastes were unrealistic. Oh, she was supposed to thank someone for this. That's right.

She opened her eyes to thank Dipper, only to gasp at the Multi-Bear looming over her.

"I admit I detest coffee, but a host should be prepared to entertain. And Taurs tend to take well to human sustenance.

"I apologize. In reflection, my actions were closer to that of a hormone-drunk Manotaur than a proud Multi-Bear," the monster said.

"…Thanks for the coffee," she said the prepared words. That seemed to puzzle him a bit. She didn't blame him, but she hadn't been able to come up with any words other than that.

"You're welcome. You should be fine to make the descent and trip back. Though I would recommend refraining from any leaping or running for a while," he said, scratching two of his heads.

Even looking at it now, it was just bizarre. The transformed people, even the Manotaurs, at least seemed to make some sense. Heck, the ghost was downright logical next to this!

It looked like something Mr. Pines stapled together as an exhibit for the Shack.

Had she really fought this?

Had Pacifica Northwest, almost beaten it?

"I explained about you to Bernard," Dipper said, coming back into sight.

"It's Bearnard," the Multi-Bear corrected calmly.

"Right, sorry," Dipper said.

"You have made a vow to redeem the wrongs of your clan. A noble, but unenviable task. The sins are many," Bearnard said, regarding her.

"I know, the hidden gallery… But I didn't know anything about Multi-Bears. Probably should have searched that room more," she muttered.

The Multi-Bear sat, and Pacifica scooted to let Dipper join her on the cot of dried plants and pine boughs.

"I shall tell you then, the story of the wrong done to my people.

"It began when the humans started to settle the lake land in earnest. While the old tribes would pass through and hunt, this was not land they claimed as their own. The early settlements were… contentious, for all involved. It seemed destined for greater conflict. But a human leader came from the East.

"A strange and wise leader exiled from the lands of his birth. Rather than brood on failures, he came here with his followers, and seeing the troubles, assumed leadership. A Pact was formed, negotiated between the Old Races, represented by three wise Multi-Bears, and He Who Never Wore Pants. Never did learn his real name.

"The basic premise was recognizing humans would dwell on the land Gravity Falls now stands on and hold majority rights to the lake. In turn, the forests and wilds would be the domain of the Old Ones. Each side would respect the other's boundaries.

"And for a time, all was well.

"Then, came Nathaniel Northwest. We first heard of him as the new leader among humans of Gravity Falls. Sad, but not odd. He called the Three Wise Multi-Bears to the town, supposedly to renew the Pact as the mayor of Gravity Falls.

"But it was a trap. He and his men struck with weighted nets and foul fumes. And as they lay senseless, Nathaniel took up an axe…

"We would later learn his treachery was all so he could claim a reputation as a great bear hunter. The pettiness, as much as the murders themselves, have carried distrust down generations.

"Since then most of the hidden races have shunned humans. There are exceptions; the Manotaurs never made the Pact to begin with. And the gnomes are treacherous and their words mean nothing. The merfolk follow their own laws. But others, like the lesser Taur tribes – the deer, the llama, and the goats – chose to make themselves scarce, as did my forefathers."

"Well, that explains all the… heads," Pacifica muttered, ears flat on her head. How was she supposed to make this up? There's no lever for this, or apparently built in instructions on how to fix it. The ghost, at least, made it very clear what he required to lift the curse.

"Indeed," Bearnard rumbled.

"Not your fault," Dipper said to Pacifica. After a moment's hesitation, he reached over and put a hand on her shoulder.

"But if you two did not come here to make amends, what are you here for? Are you seeking the tribes of your new race?" Bearnard asked.

"What? No. We thought you might know where the Spring of Changes is. I mean, you live in the forest, and are actually smart and aren't likely to demand something ridiculous in exchange," Dipper explained.

"The Spring of Changes? Yes, I know where it lies. In fact, my residency here close to those brutes is part of the traditional role of being its guardian. But why would you seek it, fellow Icelandic pop fan?

"You and the girl are fine already. Besides, its effects are temporary," he admitted. Both kids brightened at the admission he knew where it was. Only to fall at the last statement.

"Temporary?" Pacifica whined. All his heads nodded, looking serious.

"Yes, and that is for the best. In my time alone, I have witnessed many and more regret stepping into those waters. Even myself once, on accident. I couldn't show myself in the woods for a week," he shuddered.

"Oh, well, can you show us anyway?" Dipper asked.

"Very well. But I shall have to carry you. The girl is right, your kind are not meant for such a feat," the bear agreed.

"Wait a minute!" Pacifica snapped as the bear stood up.

…

"You ruined my hair!" she screeched, pointing accusingly with one hand while grabbing the section of blonde hair that barely reached her neck.

XXX

"Here it is, the ancient Spring of Changing," Bearnard said, pulling aside a curtain of hanging moss to reveal a passage in the stone cliff face. The hike had been short around the mountain. But Pacifica doubted she would have spotted that path if it had not been pointed out.

But now they stood before a sunlit cavern where blue speckled moss and short tufts of grass blanketed the floor. Water sparkled in a small waterfall almost as tall as a man that flowed gently over rock into an oval pool that seemed to run off into the wall.

The water was a bluish green, and smelled a bit… funky.

"Steps are carved into the side nearest the entrance. To change, you must submerge yourself entirely. You will feel the change come over you, a warm ripple that will pass through you.

"It is best to leave the pool immediately after. But again, I advise against. I cannot see that this will truly help in your plight," Bearnard declared as they stepped onto the moss.

"Thanks, but we have come this far, pal," Dipper said, staring at the spring.

"One at a time?" Pacifica asked.

"Good idea," he said, stepping forward. She grabbed his ear.

"Ow! Hey!" he protested.

"Not so fast, Deer Detective. If anyone is going in first, it's me. If something goes wrong, the one who's read the book of weirdness is the one we want okay," Pacifica declared.

"Augh, fine!" he snapped. She let his ear go and clopped over to the pool. Taking a breath, she stuck her front right foot in.

"Ahhhh!" she cried.

"Pacifica!" Dipper cried as he ran to her side. She was glaring at the water.

"Oh, it's also quite cold. Mountain spring and all," Bearnard added.

"Like, no kidding! And you back up!" she snapped at the two of them. Pulling off her saddlebags, she put them on the moss carpeting and pulled off her purple jacket. Considering her top for a moment, she sighed and stepped back into the pool.

Visibly shivering, she descended unseen steps, until only her head was visible, the water rippling around her.

Taking a deep breath, she dunked her head under water.

"Soon," Bearnard rumbled by the entrance.

Dipper felt something tingly up from his hoofs and a ring of gold light appeared where Pacifica had gone under, then traveled outward as a golden ripple.

The surface broke as Pacifica pulled her head up for air, hair plastered to her head.

"Oh," Dipper said looking at her as she spat out some water.

Pacifica blinked, looked down, and then touched her ears. Her llama ears.

"What?" she ground out. Splashing the water around, she hurried up the steps back onto the moss. Still a llamataur. One with raven hair and fur.

"Hmm, not bad," Bearnard said. The two Taurs looked to him.

"It turned me blonde with red highlights. Disgraceful coloring for a bear! But that works for a llamataur," he said.

Later:

Dipper wrote in the book as they made their way back.

"Out of respect to the spring's keeper I will not record its location. But its mystic properties are exaggerated, as it only changes hair/fur color," Dipper wrote down as he spoke.

"Yeah, like, that must have been so impressive. Before hair dye was invented," the dark-haired Pacifica muttered. Closing the book, he replaced it in his backpack.

"You look okay with that color. And it looks good having your flank match your mane. Hair, I mean hair," Dipper coughed.

"Ugh, and my hair is ruined. Dipper I got my hair styled whether in the mansion's beauty room or in Paris. Where do poor people fix their hair?" she asked.

"Well, there Brutal Ben's Barbershop, that purple salon in the Gravity Falls mall, and the pink place in the strip mall I think is a hair salon?" Dipper replied. The bushes rustled and Pacifica rounded on them, ears pressed down.

"The Mall is Cathy's Curls. Pricy place. The pink place is Wall-Eyed Sally's Beauty Salon. Never been to either myself, Brutal Ben is my grand-uncle," Wendy said, emerging from the brush on all fours.

"Hey guys! Pacifica, going for a Goth look?" the werewolf asked, smiling.

XXX

"Hahhaha! No," the gargoyle said. His smile had turned to a frown at the kitchen table. He was eating raw ground beef. Mabel in her meal tub was resting her elbows while eating a hot dog. And she and Dipper were standing at their spots eating grass and weeds on white sandwiches.

"Oh, like, come on. I need it for a styling," Pacifica objected. The only Shack resident who could use a chair leaned back on it, regarding her while rubbing his chin.

"No. I don't give advances. Especially not just to pay for a fancy haircut. Besides, Mabel wants to style it for free, so you have no dice, kid," Mr. Pines said.

"So many possibilities," Mabel said dreamily, staring at Pacifica's raven hair with starry eyes. Pacifica shuddered. Mabel could be creepier than stuff in the forest.

"No offense, Mabel, but with the luck I've been having, I would sooner trust it to a professional," Pacifica said. The mer-girl pouted at that.

"What?! I'm plenty professional, I just don't get paid or have a license. Tell her Dipper," Mabel pleaded, getting those guppy eyes.

Dipper looked between the llama and the fish, and picked up his sandwich.

"I want no part of this," he said, walking away. The gargoyle slapped his knee and laughed.

"Evasion, the boy is learning," Mr. Pines said, wiping an imaginary tear away.

XXX

Pacifica looked at the strip mall. Apparently it was an outdoor row of stores called a mall. Though she counted more than half the stores being empty. She was wearing her sunglasses and the spotted handkerchief over her hair as a disguise of sorts.

After all, judging by Bearnard's talk, there legitimately were other llamaturs about. She wondered if it was one big herd or several small ones? Did they mix with other breeds? It seemed like they would.

Question for another time. Her trip to the real mall had ended as expected. She simply did not have the money, and the receptionist had told her she would need shoes on before she got any service.

Why was it everywhere but the diner insisted she wear shoes? She scrapped her feet and rinsed them every day.

Well, it was time to go to the only professional she could afford. At least hiking around town was easy; she could make good time. Crossing the parking lot Pacifica reached the doors to the pink storefront.

Opening the door, her senses were assaulted by pink and white frilly decorations and the overwhelming smell of hairspray, suntan lotion, and some kind of shampoo.

A fat woman with a pink apron and white nametag turned to face her with a wide smile. Pacifica was focused on her hair. It was like she had a lot of cotton candy on her hair.

"Welcome to Wall-Eyed Sally's Beauty Salon dearie! I'm Sally, take a chair and I will be with you shortly," Wall-Eyed Sally said. One of her eyes was blank white.

"Oh that? My left eye always points north. Just call me a compass. Ha!" she laughed at her own dubious wit. Pacifica was feeling like she should be reminded of something.

"Well, no need to stand there, why don't you sit down and stay awhile?" the woman asked, patting a salon chair.

"…Sit. In a chair? Like, can't you see my lower half is a llama?" Pacifca asked, feeling a bit confused.

"Ha, you kids today and your crazy fashions. In my day we had hair dye, unshaved legs and forgot bras, and called that rebellion. Sit where you like, beauty knows no type," The old lady laughed.

Pacifica sat down on the floor slowly between two chairs. The floor was… sticky. If her legs got a surprise wax treatment, she would ask Mr. Pines how you sue without a lawyer.

The beautician draped a cloth around her, and inspected her hair.

"Sleepover gone wrong was it? Someone try and do your hair sweetie?" the woman asked.

"No, I fought a bear," Pacifica told her.

"Ha! I tried that once. So you want to work with this uneven cut, take that rebellion up a notch?" Sally asked.

"What? No! Just fix it so no one notices how uneven it is," Pacifica instructed.

"Okay, I'll do that. You want a magazine? This will take a bit," The woman offered.

"I'll just take a nap," Pacifica said closing her eyes. She could sleep standing up; sitting down was no chore.

"Oh, let me help with that. Let me tell you about my sister, Susan. People call her lazy, but she is not lazy at all. Why, once when we were girls, she moved an entire log just so we…" Pacifica drifted off as the boring story unfolded and the scissors came out.

XXX

"Wakey-wakey, sweetie," Someone shook Pacifica's shoulder. Lifting her head, Pacifica yawned, and cringed as she had to swallow spit. She was not a construction worker to spit every morning.

Wait was that a real thing? Mr. Ramirez likely knew; he was practically one of those.

"Tada! Nice and neat!" Wall-Eyed Sally proclaimed. Pacifica stared through the storefront.

"Sorry that's the part where I turn the chair around for the reveal. But you don't have a chair," the stylist said. Rolling her eyes, Pacifica stood up and turned herself to face the mirror.

"…

"…

"Yep, nothing like a nice cool pixie cut for summer. Now, if you want me to do something about that body hair, I have an opening on Tuesday. I trimmed a camel once; this shouldn't be so different.

"Sweetie? Hello?" She said waving a hand in front of Pacifica's frozen, jaw-dropped face.

XXX

"Ha, the old kick and run! Classic," Stan laughed as he leaned against Mabel's outdoor pool.

"Grunkle Stan! This is a serious hair crisis," Mabel said, poking his wing. Wendy also emerged from the water, fur wet and dripping, dropping the tennis ball from her mouth. She draped her arms over the rim to scowl at the gargoyle.

"Right! Though, seriously Pacifica, never sleep while someone is doing your hair," Wendy said.

"It was never a problem before," Pacifica muttered. She was fingering the short hair, running her hands through it.

This was so weird! She had never had her hair so short! It probably wouldn't weigh hardly anything even when wet! And unlike the magic dye, this wasn't going to wear off in a few days.

"Oh come on! You get transformed into a different species and it didn't bother you as much as a bad haircut?" Dipper demanded.

"…Oh boy," Grunkle Stan said, turning and walking away.

"What did you say about my hair?" Pacifica ground out, glaring at the deer boy. For that matter, the other two girls were glaring at him. Feeling that instinct to flee flare up, he barely noticed Soos lean in.

"Time to run for it, dude. I recommend serpentine, tires them out," the handyman whispered loudly.

Author's Note:

Not the update anyone was hoping for, I am afraid. Everything is moving slowly for some reason, when it moves at all.

Well hope it was enjoyable. Oh, and to view the full Llama Pacifica picture used in the cover check out the Festum gallery on Deviantart.