"Settle down class," spoke Mrs. Gaston, drawing the attention of her students. "It's the first of December, which means that it's time to start your end of semester history reports."

All the teenagers let out groans. Mabel Pines rested her head in her palms and spoke to herself. "Oh, mighty gods of destruction, the day of reckoning has come." It wasn't that she couldn't write a history report. They were usually easy, but also incredibly boring.

"Don't give me that," scolded the teacher. "It's on the class syllabus. You have all known about this report since the first day of school." Mrs. Gaston grabbed a stack of papers off her desk and began passing them out to her class. "For this assignment, you will each be given a different year from the 20th century to research. You are to write a 1500 word report on any major events of your choosing, and how they impacted the United Stated on both a political and cultural level. For the sake of fairness, I have randomly preselected a year for each of you."

Returning to her desk, Mrs. Gaston read off the list of names and the year written next to each one. The list was alphabetical by last name, so Mabel was near the middle.

"1984. Come on '84. Make Van Halen my gift," Mabel whispered with fingers crossed.

"Mabel Pines," said the teacher, "1933."

WHAM! Mabel's head dropped like bolder onto her desk

"Mabel? Are you alright?" asked Mrs. Gaston.

"Yea. Yea, I'm good." Mabel sat back up, now with a red mark on her forehead. "Just luck of the draw."

"Uh-hu." The teacher raised an eyebrow at the twin. It was no secret that Mabel lived and breathed 80's nostalgia, so she was glad that the girl was understanding about the assignment. That didn't make the overdramatic attitude any less annoying. "Moving on. Janna Ordonia – 1984."

"Oh, come on!"

"Hahaha," the blue-haired girl laughed from the front row of class. She turned around and winked at Mabel. "Better luck next times, Pines."

"That's enough! From both of you," Mrs. Gaston yelled. "Now, where was I?"

Mabel ranted at her brother as the two walked home. Dipper was trying to be understanding, but she really was blowing it out of proportion.

"Yea, real tough break," he said, sarcasm dripping from his lips. "You didn't get the decade you wanted, and now have to do some actual research."

"That's not the point and you know it," Mabel glared. "If Janna gave you the smug look she gave me, you would be mad, too."

"Actually, I learned to ignore her long ago."

"My bad. Didn't realize my brother Master Buddha."

Dipper stopped walking momentarily, trying to decipher what Mabel was saying. "I get what you are trying to say," he said, "but that insult made no sense."

Mabel failed to make a comeback, allowing the rest of the walk home to fall into silence. The twins watched the cars drive by, Mabel trying to cool off and Dipper trying to remember what major events happened in 1965. He was a prodigy with anything science or math related, but always struggled with modern history. He knew it was a big time for the Civil Rights Movement. That was about it.

After dinner, Dipper went to his room to do his homework, while Mabel elected to do research on the living room couch. Staring at the laptop screen, she huffed. Mabel had managed to learn a few things about her assigned year. Like it was a major year for the Dust Bowl and the Great Depression, as well as the year FDR was first sworn into office. Despite this, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something. Her frame of context lacked emotion. How was she supposed to write about major, devastating events if she wasn't there to experience them for herself? A light bulb went off in her head.

With a sudden burst of energy, Mabel rushed up the stairs. She closed her bedroom door and pulled her Box-Of-Super-Duper-Secret-Stuff out from under her bed.

"Hey, Dipping-sauce, could you come here?" she shouted across the duplex apartment.

A minute later, her door opened and Dipper walked in. He instantly noticed his sister's overly excited smile and her hands behind her back. "This better be good."

"What if I told you I know how to make our history reports actually fun to do?"

"Alright, I'll bite," Dipper sighed. "How do you intend to do this?" Mabel tossed the item in her left hand to Dipper, which he caught with ease. "A tape measurer?" he asked. He turned the tape measurer in his hand, and his eyes ballooned at the sight of the hourglass symbol. "No."

"Yes," Mabel said, threating to bounce out of her skin.

"No. No. We are not doing this."

"Oh, yes we are dearest brother."

"Putting aside the fact that you somehow still have one of these things," Dipper said. He closed his eyes, trying to keep calm. "You can't travel through space with these, only time. So unless you want to do your report on just San Francisco, this thing is useless." As if on cue, Mabel tossed the item in her right hand at Dipper's feet. It was a metal disk that beeped once before expanding into a large circle three feet in diameter. "A teleportation pad. Because of course you managed to get ahold of one of those, too."

"I might have borrowed some of Stan and Ford's connections," Mabel shrugged. She walked over to Dipper and nudged his side with her elbow. "So? What do you say? Want to go on an adventure?"

"There's no way I'm talking you out of this, is there?"

"Nope."

"Fine, but not tonight. We should prepare first."

"Okay, if that will make you feel better. How about we go on Saturday?"

Dipper paused for a moment. "Only if you promise that we won't interfere with anything."

"I can do that."

"Then it's a deal."

00000

HEY THERE! How's it shaking? This story idea was requested by retro mania. I kept the first chapter short as a set up, but there is plenty more to come. I'm thinking... 5 chapters? Maybe? We'll see how it goes.

As for my other in-progress story, Eyes of the Anarchist, the next chapter is currently being written. I should have it out in a week or two... Hopefully.

As always, all crits and comments are welcomed.