What had started out as an ordinary morning (as normal as one can get in Gravity Falls, anyway) was quickly devolving into chaos. Having gone into town to carry out a list of errands, Dipper and Mabel had quickly eschewed their responsibilities in favor of running around flailing their limbs and shrieking at the top of their lungs.
Not of their own volition, mind you. Rather, some mysterious and alien force was now hijacking their voluntary muscle control, forcing them to act out its increasingly ridiculous whims.
"Okay, we need to figure this out," barked Dipper. "Whatever's causing this is clearly getting stronger by the..." He was cut off mid-sentence as his arms posed to either side and he began to sing "I'm a little teapot, short and stout, this is my handle, this is my spout!"
In spite of being forced to smear makeup from her purse on her face in a manner befitting your average rodeo clown, Mabel couldn't help but snicker at this.
"Mabel, it's not fu-When I get all steamed up, he