“Forget it!” yells Mabel. “We’re going in! Yah! Black-Spirit-Beauty-Biscuit, away!” She urges her horse across the dusty plain, passing cacti and saw grass, and gallops up parallel to a railcar.

Dipper and Blendin fall in behind her.

She makes a grasp for the railing and grabs hold of it.

“How is she so good at this?” asks Blendin, panting.

“Mabel went through a ‘country phase’ in fifth grade,” says Dipper. “Just be glad she doesn’t say ‘y’all’ anymore.”

“Wow, I think we might actually pull this off!” says Blendin. “Nothing can stop us now! Yee-haw-AAUGH!”

As Blendin tries to yell like a cowboy, he slips and falls off his horse and tumbles to the ground. “HELP! MAN DOWN!” he shrieks as he rolls like a tumbleweed.

Dipper and Mabel sigh and circle back.

“Blendin, are you okay?” asks Mabel.

“Y-y-y-y-y-yeah, I’m good, I think,” stammers Blendin. “I experience head injuries about three times a day, so I got this.”

“Well, there goes our chance of ever getting on that train,” says Dipper as he watches it speed off into the distance.

“Awww, it’s okay,” says Mabel.

“Hey, what’s that sound?” asks Dipper.

Pebbles shake at their feet.

“Huh, it sounds like rumbling. Maybe it’s the train! Maybe they decided to come back and let us rob them after all!” says Mabel.

“No, it’s not coming from the tracks….It’s coming from…behind us?” says Dipper. He wheels his horse around to see…hundreds of lawmen racing across the plain toward them.

“Freeze, you fiendish outlaws! Put your hands up!” screams the sheriff.

“Ah, nuts, it’s the fuzz!” yells Blendin.

“What do we do, what do we do?” asks Mabel.

“Well, we either surrender peacefully or make a run for it,” answers Dipper.

“I want a third option!” says Blendin.

“It doesn’t work that way!” screams Mabel. “IT NEVER WORKS THAT WAY!”

MAKE A RUN FOR IT: GO HERE SURRENDER: GO HERE