“I didn’t trust Gleefuls in the past, and I’m not trusting them in the future, either,” Dipper whispers to Mabel. He turns to Glorglax Gleeful. “You know what, we took a chance and it didn’t work out, so I just think we’re gonna—NOW!”

Mabel throws a handful of sand at the sales-borg and they make a break for it.

Glorglax Gleeful screams. “AAAAH, my eyes! I need them to see rubes!”

The twins grab Blendin and run through the gate, out into a crowded marketplace.

“Ingenious!” exclaims Blendin. “How’d you know that Future-Sand is the sharpest, most painful substance on Earth?”

“Uh…we didn’t,” says Mabel. “He’s okay, right?”

“Too late now! Let’s split up to evade him,” says Blendin. “Rendezvous under the giant statue of Time Baby in ten minutes!” Blendin separates from Dipper and Mabel.

But Glorglax has charged up his hover platform and is close behind.

“Hide!” screams Mabel.

The twins duck and dive through the crowded marketplace, past various time merchants selling all manner of time beads, time rugs, and time turtles, until they find themselves in a dead end!

“I’ve got you kids now!” Glorglax bellows. He speeds toward them.

Mabel spies a door. She pulls Dipper through and closes it.

The door locks behind them with a THUD.

“Phew, we’re safe!” says Dipper.

“But where are we?” asks Mabel. Dipper whips out his flashlight and shines it into the dark hallway. There are rows of couches, flat-screen TVs, smartphones, and posters for movies Dipper and Mabel recognize.

“Everything is oddly familiar!” whispers Mabel.

“Yeah. What is this stuff?” asks Dipper. “Did we walk through a portal to our own time?”

They walk through a door and find themselves in a brightly lit empty middle school classroom. “This looks just like our school back in California!” says Mabel. “But why’s it empty?”

Dipper tries to pick up an apple, but it’s glued to the desk. “Mabel…” he says. “Something’s off about this place….”

Just then, Mabel spies a group of futuristic schoolchildren who are idly floating on hover boards and drinking hovering sodas.

“Hey, these kids will tell us what’s going on!” she says. She walks up to talk to the kids and—

SMACK!

Mabel walks into an ultra-clear piece of glass.

All the kids turn to look at her and laugh, but she can’t hear them.

“Dipper! We’re trapped in some kind of glass box! It’s just like the mimes warned us about!” Mabel screams.

Dipper looks on the wall and sees a large gold plaque. It reads:

– MUSEUM OF THE PAST – MIDDLE SCHOOL, EARLY TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY

“Mabel…we’re not in our own time!” he says. “We’re trapped in a museum…of the past!”

Dipper and Mabel press their faces against the glass and see other glass boxes for different time periods: an office of workers at typewriters, with a plaque reading THE FIFTIES; a group of cavemen, with a plaque reading 100,000 BC; and a yawning guy wearing bell-bottoms under a disco ball, with a plaque reading THE WORST TIME.

“We have to get out! We have to get out!” says Mabel as she tries all the doors and windows.

But for anyone trapped inside the Museum of the Past, it is surely…

THE END.