Voice Test Dipper Edition

[lambylamby]

COME HELP ME TEST OUT THIS NERD.

PROMPTS? YOU WANT PROMPTS? BAM! I GOT YO' PROMPTS.

Comments

[grandmasweaters]

[If something weird wasn't going on they'd have to question their sanity anyway.]

Yeah, but... [Don't ruin it] How did the cookie know?

[lambylamby]

[Dipper Pines: Ruining things for his twin sister since 1999.]

Mabel, it's a cookie. Cookies don't know things. Look, I'll show you.

[He says this, but even as he's opening his own cookie he doesn't sound completely sure. I mean, that was an oddly specific thing for a fortune cookie to say. Usually the fortunes were broader in scale -- easier to apply to any person or situation.

Dipper clears his throat as he pulls out the little slip of paper and reads:]

"Your shoe's untied, Dipper."

See? Nothing too --

[...

......

............

w a i t.

His shoe is actually untied, but more importantly...]

HOW DOES IT KNOW MY NAME?

[grandmasweaters]

[Mabel just looks amazingly excited at all this. Excuse her while she runs into the next room, snatches Stan's, and runs back. (To a confused shout of mild frustration from their Grunkle.)

She unwraps it and cracks it open.]

"A curious child will steal your cookie."

!! Do you know what this means?

[lambylamby]

This is crazy! There's no way this could actually be --

[WAIT. THERE'S ANOTHER COOKIE IN THIS HOUSE.

Dipper scrambles out of his seat and into the next room where Grunkle Stan has already started lamenting the loss of his cookie to Soos who is, in fact, just about to crack open his.]

Soos, no! Don't eat that cookie!

[And in one quick motion he snags the cookie out of his hands and runs back to Mabel, already cracking it open.]

"Your cookie will be taken by a paranoid child, but don't worry there's an extra in the bag."

...

We have to get that other cookie!

[grandmasweaters]

[Mabel is already rushing to the kitchen, crawling on a chair to lift the bag in the air like it's an intense victory for her.]

I have it!

[She pauses then, lowering the bag.]

... But if there's an extra cookie and it's not for any of us, whose fortune is it going to tell?

[lambylamby]

[That's a good question. He has to think. These weren't just any fortune cookies, after all.

He paces back and forth in front of the bag, his eyes occasionally flicking over to it as if he could will the cookie inside to tell him all of its secrets.]

I have no idea. If it's an extra that someone at the restaurant threw in, it could be for anyone, but Soos' fortune specifically said that there would be an extra one so that could mean that it actually is meant for us.

Basically the big question here is this: is the cookie really for someone in this house? We both took a cookie that wasn't ours, so it may belong to Soos or Grunkle Stan.

Or... [He stops pacing, peering apprehensively into the bag at the lone cookie inside of it.] Or it could be for whoever opens it.

[grandmasweaters]

Maybe it's for everybody. Because the ones we took were still for Grunkle Stan and Soos. We're the kids they said would steal it, so we can't be the "you" in it, too.

[She gasps like she had a major discovery.] It could be a fortune for the whole world!

[lambylamby]

There's only one way to find out.

[Dipper reaches into the bag and pulls out the cookie. He scrutinizes it carefully before holding it out to his sister, his voice heavy with a gravitas that was in all honesty most likely unneeded for the situation.

FORTUNE COOKIES ARE SERIOUS BUSINESS OKAY.]

Go ahead, Mabel.

[grandmasweaters]

[It being Dipper this was not expected.] ... Wait you're letting me do it?

Sorry not sorry for this I didn't need my heart did you need yours?

[lambylamby]

[... Wait why was he letting her do it?]

Actually, on second thought I don't really want another mailbox incident.

[He very quickly rescinds his proposition, unwrapping the cookie himself and snapping it open.]

Okay, deep breath. Let's see what this says...

[The fortune is only two words, but they feel like a punch to the gut.]

... "Trust them."

[grandmasweaters]

[Mabel doesn't get it, herself. She peers at it, rubbing her chin like she's thinking.]

... I bet it's aliens.

[lambylamby]

[...Bless your heart, Mabel.

He cracks a small smile, laughing.]

Aliens?

[grandmasweaters]

They're sending us a message! They're coming to Earth and they mean us no harm!

[lambylamby]

Well, it makes about as much sense as anything else.

[grandmasweaters]

We should throw them a party!

[Mabel no.]

[lambylamby]

Mabel, no. We can't throw a party for aliens.

[grandmasweaters]

Come on, Dipper. We have to be hospitable. We don't want to be rude hosts.

[lambylamby]

What if they don't like parties? What if they're a party-hating species of aliens that believe the act of partying is an act of war? Too many variables.

[grandmasweaters]

Nobody doesn't like parties. You just have to throw them right!

[lambylamby]

The last time we tried to throw a party we ended up with a zombie infestation.

[grandmasweaters]

Because you summoned them. Are you going to raise the dead at the alien party, too?

[lambylamby]

That wasn't my --

[w a i t.]

... No, no, that was my fault, but that's not the point. We don't even know if this fortune is actually about aliens. It could be about anything!

[grandmasweaters]

Well, I think it's about aliens and there's no reason not to have a party...

[lambylamby]

[SIIIIIIIIIIIIIGH.]

Fine. We can throw a party.

[grandmasweaters]

[Mabel's face lights up so very brightly and her eyes go wide before squeals.] Thank you thank you thank you! [You are getting a super fast and super energetic hug around the neck.

Mabel likes parties.]