The Pitt Cola fills the chamber.

Dipper, Mabel, and Blendin flounder and face the wizard.

“The a-answer is,” Blendin stammers, “that he wand-ered around?”

The wizard stares into Blendin’s eyes. “IMPOSSIBLE!” he screams. “Curse my own rules!” He claps his hands and the Pitt Cola begins draining from the room.

The gang floats back down to the soda-drenched dungeon floor.

“Ewww, my feet are stuck to the ground,” Mabel says.

All around the room, things are askew and stuck to other things.

“Well, you’ve survived my death trap,” says the wizard, shrugging. “So, what brings you here?”

“The king sent us to bring you back,” says Dipper.

“What? Never! You can’t take me back to that slavedriver!” screams the wizard. “He makes me dance for his amusement, and he consolidates all of his employees’ birthdays into one wretched office party. It’s terrible!” Just awful!

“Awww, we know how you feel,” says Mabel. “Our Grunkle Stan makes us work all day in a gift shop. It’s mostly horsing around and eating popsicles in an air-conditioned room, but it’s still annoying, you know.”

“I never wanted to be a wizard anyway!” he laments. “I wanted to be a confectioner and make fizzy sodas that tickle the inside of my nose and make my heart giggle!”

“Ah, that explains all the weird soda stuff,” says Mabel, slowly nodding. “I was wondering how that was going to pay off.”

“Please, you can’t take me back. Please just go and tell the king that something horrible happened to me! Like I died or started taking improv classes! Just let me go!” pleads the wizard.

Dipper, Mabel, and Blendin huddle up.

“I dunno, guys,” says Dipper. “Us getting that treasure depends on us bringing this guy back.”

“But, Dipper, look at him!” says Mabel, gesturing. “He’s a man with dreams. Weirdly specific soda-making dreams!”

The trio thinks long and hard.

LET THE WIZARD GO: GO HERE TAKE THE WIZARD TO THE KING: GO HERE