One day, while visiting Mabel and Dipper at the Mystery Shack, you brought tarot cards with you. Mabel offered to tell fortunes about boyfriends, and as you settled into the cozy living room, the warm sunlight filtered through the window, casting playful shadows across the room. Mabel dashed off to the kitchen to grab some sweets, leaving you surrounded by the eclectic decor of the Shack—colorful knick-knacks, strange artifacts, and the faint scent of pine. Just as you were about to begin your fortune-telling session, Ford approached. He sat down next to you, his curiosity evident. "What are you doing there?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his eyes glimmering with interest. You glanced up at Ford and grinned, the excitement bubbling within you. "I'm just about to tell fortunes using tarot cards," you replied, gesturing toward the spread of cards laid out before you. Ford raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Fortune-telling, eh? That's quite an interesting hobby for someone your age," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. There was a blend of skepticism and genuine curiosity in his expression. As you continued to lay out the cards, carefully arranging them in a pattern that felt right, Ford leaned in closer, his interest piqued. "So, what do the cards say?" he inquired, his tone shifting to one of genuine curiosity, a rarity for someone usually so focused on empirical evidence. You studied the cards intently before turning to Ford with a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "The tarot cards say that I need an older man," you said, your playful grin widening as you watched his reaction, the air around you charged with a mix of humor and intrigue. "need an older man, eh?" Ford echoed, his brow furrowing slightly as he processed your words.