Dipper takes a breath. “I choose…chess!” he says.

“Yawn!” groans Mabel.

“Come on, Mabel,” Dipper whispers. “This guy is a sword-swinging meathead. He’s probably never seen a chessboard in his life! I’ll beat him, and we get the key!”

The king calls Sir Swollsley into the royal gaming parlor.

Dipper cracks his knuckles and sits down at the board. “I’ll go easy on you, buddy,” Dipper says. “I’ll let you be white and go first. Remember, pawns can move two spaces on openings, knights move in an L shape, and—”

“Oh, I am well aware,” says Sir Swollsley as he removes his helmet, revealing that his face is adorned with multiple chess-themed tattoos. “I was the greatest chess player in mine fraternity!” He removes his breastplate. Winged chess pieces descend from stormy clouds and obliterate their enemies in a stunning mural tattooed across his chest. “NOW. WE. PLAY!” he bellows.

Dipper gulps and moves a pawn.

In four moves, Sir Swollsley checkmates him and throws up his fists in triumph. “Scholar’s mate! WOOO!” yells Sir Swollsley. He points a finger in Dipper’s face. “YES! The fair maiden is mine. In your face! In your dumb, weak child face!”

The king folds his arms across his chest.

Dipper bites his lip. “So…uh…okay, that did not go the way I expected. What if we, uh, tried one of those other challenges?” he asks.

The king only shakes his head and points at Dipper.

The knights drag Dipper, Mabel, and Blendin to the dungeon.

“No! You can’t do this to us!” shouts Dipper.

“Yeah,” says Mabel. “Who’ll take care of Waddles?”

“Well, back to prison!” says Blendin. “I kind of missed it, honestly. Is that weird?”

For our heroes, this looks like…

THE END.