Urch was daydreaming about logging when Old Mabel fell from the sky. She remembered her mission: emissary.
“No time follow me,” she said in a course voice as Old Mabel got up from the floor and dusted herself off. “Unch is waiting. 7:10, tick tock. Gravity Falls.”
Old Mabel had never met Urch before. She began to think the obvious.
Urch opened the seldom used front door of the Blue Feather, part of the original castle it was built around. “You think that you are dreaming, no? Test it on this lamp blocking the open door. If you are dreaming, the room will remain lit when you turn off the light. Go ahead — try it.”
Old Mabel turned off the light. The room remain lit. “Now you know,” Urch said, and walked out the door into the forest. She had no choice but to follow.
Then she was at 97/97/97 with Urch. The two stand uncomfortably close to each other. “Unch lies along this line,” the child hobo said, pointing northeast.
“Unch is the orange you seek. He is the whole within the hole. Go within and you’ll see time itself split up into soapy bubbles. Alienatorooter.” Old Mabel then imagines 8 oranges sitting around The Table with a thick book in their midst. Not Floydodo but Floydada. A 9th appears to their south-southwest, quickly turning into a purple martin bird which then flies left into the woods. “9 not 8,” Old Mabel realizes. “The Table is incomplete still.”
“Unch will clarify. Nighttime in reality. Daytime in dreams. Walk with me.”