Chapter 1

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~Dipper~

So, maybe I'm a trouble maker.

Maybe I make some mistakes.

Maybe I pick fights with the wrong people and get beat unconcious to the ground.

But I'm no criminal.

"...all the evidence points to you!"

"What evidence?" I asked the officer.

The man sighed. "Must I repeat myself.

I shrugged.

"You were found at the heart of the crime scene with a gun in your hand. You can't find any evidence against yourself, and there was a wittness!"

He pointed to my least favorite person in all New York, Gideion.

"I saw it all, officer!" He said in an innocent voice. "He took the gun and fired it everywhere! I just escaped."

"Liar!" I yelled. "He's the one that fired the gun! Then he knocked me out and made it look like I did it."

For proof, the back of my head was still spinning. I'm not entirely sure wjat happened, but there was a fire. Most likely looked like a suicide attempt to any onlooker.

The officer sighed. "Alright, just let me call you're parents and then we'll see which one of you is telling the truth."

"I don't have parents," I said.

"Then who's watching you?"

I was about to go with an orphan sob story, when I thought that just might make all this look like I was trying to steal money or something. And Gideon would most likely rat me out anyway. "I live with my grandpa."

"Name?"

"Stanley Pines."

The officer took a double take. "Oh, so you must be Dipper."

I nodded.

The officer sighed. "I've heard all about you and that grandpa of yours."

I winced. "I know."

"Well, I know that he won't pick up the phone. I guess I'll just have to escort you home myself, so you're grandfather and I can have a little talk."

Yay...I thought sarcastically.

~

The officer knocked on the door, his hand firmly on my shoulder. I winced at I heard glass breaking and heavy footsteps. The door opened to my drunk grandpa. Maybe now they'd put me in child services. Any orphanage would be better then this dump.

Ever since my parents died, Stanley had tried to wash away their memory with booze. I don't think I ever remembered him sober. I half expected him to grab me by the shirt and slam the door in the officer's face.

Suprisingly, he handled himself pretty well for a drunk man. "Good morning, officer," he said with a slur in his voice.

"Its five in the evening," the officer said.

"Really?" Stanly asked. He shrugged. "What seems to be the problem?'

"You're grandson has been found guilty for opening fire and burning down a building."

Stanley laughed. "The kid? He hardly knows how to work a gun. If he tried, he'd probably shoot himself in the process."

"So, you're saying he wouldn't be guilty?"

Stanley shrugged. "The poor kid lost his parents when he was three. I've tried to raise him right, but things go wrong. He gets in fights and is terrible at flirting, but at least I know he's not dangerous."

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