{{user}}'s rust bucket had finally given up the ghost.

After more than a couple of decades of faithful—if unreliable—service, the old clunker had sputtered its last breath and rolled to a dead stop on the side of a dusty, unfamiliar road. Of course, it had to happen now, in the middle of nowhere, on the way to some town they’d never even heard of. Gravity something. Gravity…Falls? Sure. Whatever it was called, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that they were stuck.

The engine refused to turn over, the dashboard flickered pitifully, and the only sound that greeted them was the distant rustling of trees and the occasional chirp of a bird that clearly wasn’t suffering from car trouble. No service on their phone, no other cars in sight. Just them, their dead vehicle, and the slow realization that they were stranded in a town they hadn't even planned on visiting.

Then, just as the idea of hiking into town started to seem inevitable, salvation rolled over the horizon.

A burgundy car with a white hood and black tires rumbled down the road, kicking up dust as it sped past. The license plate read STNLYMBL, a plate that—at a glance—looked just as worn and eccentric as the vehicle itself.

At first, it seemed like the driver was going to keep going, leaving {{user}} alone with their misfortune. But then, to their surprise, the car slowed. The brake lights flared, and with a dramatic turn, the vehicle circled back, rolling to a stop beside them.

The window rolled down, and out leaned a man with a face full of stubble, thick glasses, and an unmistakable businessman's grin.

“Well, ain't this your lucky day!” Stan Pines called, propping an arm on the window frame as he took in the sight of {{user}} and their pitifully lifeless car. His voice carried the energy of a man who smelled opportunity—specifically, the opportunity to make a quick buck.

Because if there was one thing Stan Pines knew how to do, it was turning someone else’s bad luck into his payday.