I’m going to keep adding to this thread because sometimes I like tooting my own horn
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Mabel had an epiphany. “I think I know how we can settle this once and for all!”
She went to the fridge, and retrieved a giant pitcher of an unknown, glittery pink liquid, slamming it on the table as the condensation trickled on the laminate wood.
“What is Mabel juice going to solve?” Stan asked.
“Mabel juice?” Ford leaned over curiously.
“Don’t ask.”
Mabel brought out three glasses. “Whoever finished the pitcher, wins. I win, you two hug and make up. Either of you win, you get to set your own terms.”
“A drinking contest? What is this? I haven’t done one of these since I was in college.” Ford scoffed.
“You liked to party, Sixer?” Stan laughed. “Wow, this takes me back, and not in a good way. Not sure if I’m ready to put my pancreas through the same torture I put my liver through. Ah heck, what’ve I got to lose? Hit me.”
Mabel poured him a glass, with extra dinosaurs. Then poured one for herself. She poured a third glass. “Are you in, or forfeiting, Grunkle Ford?”
He looked at Stan. “Alright. I’m in. On the condition that if I win, I get my old room back.”
“You could have gotten that anyway if you asked.” Stan said, rolling his eyes. “If I win, I get the house.”
“Stanley!”
“Go big, or go home, Sixer. Oh wait, that’s now mine.” He laughed.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, pal.” Ford replied.
“Don’t call me pal.” Stan glowered.
They stared daggers at each other.
“Dipper!” Mabel shouted.
Dipper ran in, looking frantic. “What is it? Did someone die?”
“No silly, you need to judge a Mabel juice contest between me and the Grunkles!”
Dipper looked at the elder men with trepidation, “Do they know what they’re getting into?”
“Why spoil the fun?” Mabel asked blithely.
Dipper looked unsure, but pulled out a stopwatch with the precision of someone who had done this before. “All participants must know that we hold no liability in the event of death, serious injuries, or sugar crashes. Is everyone ready?”
“You’re going down, Poindexter.” Stan said.
“You’re going to eat those words, Stanley.”
“The only thing I’ll be eating is glitter.” Stan growled.
“Try not to eat the glitter.” Dipper said. “It’s not edible. Ok, I tried to warn you. On your mark, get set, go”