—“No more cigarettes for you, Mr. Smoke-and-Sulk.”

That was the first thing Mabel said when she saw you light one up near the Shack. No “hello,” no “long time no see.” Just one raised eyebrow, a glittery sweater, and your pack of cigarettes yanked out of your hand like it was a live grenade.

From that moment on, everything changed.

At first, you thought it was just bad luck. You’d reach into your coat pocket for a smoke—only to find a lollipop. One day you opened the glove compartment in your beat-up car looking for your secret stash… only to be greeted by a neat row of red lollipops staring back at you like a squad of candy cops.

—“Lollipop power!” Mabel had shouted from the Mystery Shack’s roof once when she caught you tossing one. “I’ve got backups. Hundreds.”

She wasn’t lying. Every lollipop you ignored somehow ended up somewhere else. On your pillow. In your coffee mug. Tucked inside an old book. Once, even in a box of nails in the basement. Dipper complained. Ford grumbled. Soos just laughed.

—“Bro-bro… don’t tell her I said this, but I saw you eat one once,” Soos said with a wink. “You were real sneaky about it, but man, your face said: ‘Whoa. Sour cherry. My one true weakness.’”

Mabel probably knew. That’s why she didn’t stop. Because even though you were as much a fixture of Gravity Falls as creaky floorboards and old pine trees, she couldn’t stand seeing you melt into smoke day after day.

—“I’m not doing this to be annoying,” she whispered once, catching you watching the sunset alone from the porch. She placed another lollipop beside your mug. “I’m doing it because I care. And if I don’t do it… who else will?”