bike fenders


At the Twelfth Fret Toronto - another incredible vintage guitar.  This time a beautiful 1955 Stratocaster.  Original except for replaced pickguard and (possibly) knobs.  I only have one word to describe it: “wow”.  No wait, I have more than one word:   “Holy living sh*t on a stick, wow”

PS:  I believe the BMW bike in front of the store belongs to the owner.  It looks vintage too, but probably not as vintage as the Stratocaster!  ;)

uovoc  asked:

Fic prompt: Mabel takes her driving test.

Floyd Curl had worked at the small DMV in his home town of Gravity Falls for thirty years, and even before the Transcendence he had seen it all. Twenty gnomes in a trenchcoat driving a fifteen passenger van for their test. A woman wearing a fur coat in the middle of August without breaking a sweat. Endless cars that smelt sweetly skunky and scores of sweaty and terrified teenagers. Riding in an actual god damn cherry red Rolls Royce for Pacifica Northwest’s test. A car adapted for a mermaid to use. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Yes, Floyd sat confident that he had seen the weirdest and the worst that Gravity Falls could through at him. He was the unflappable king of the Department of Motor Vehicles and nothing could faze him.

Until Mabel Pines walked in one day.


“Who brought you here?” Floyd asked as he stepped into the passenger side of the impossibly old land yacht this girl would be taking her test in. The only person he saw in the waiting room was surely too old to be her father-grandfather maybe?

The young woman-Mabel Pines according to his paperwork, finished adjusting the two pillows that let her see over the wheel and buckled in. “That’s my Grunkle Stan! He’s the one that taught me how to drive!”

A cold sweat broke out over Floyd, and tried to remind himself not to be ridiculous. There were many elderly drivers on the road and they did just fine! And after all, he was getting older himself, he had no room to talk. The young lady next to him seemed like she had a good head on her shoulders, and having an older relative teach her probably meant they went through everything in the little guide book. This was going to go just fine.

Mabel turned the ignition and the old engine somehow started, rumbling and vibrating the entire car. Floyd pointed out to two concrete bumpers in the parking lot. “Okay, first thing I’d like you to do is parallel park between those two slabs.”

“Um…parallel park?”

“Yes, just ease your car between those two bumpers, and then we can go on to the next part of the test.”

An air of nervousness suddenly descended on the once cheerful girl. “Um, Grunkle Stan only showed me that once. He said I should make my own parking spaces if I couldn’t find them.”

Floyd resisted the urge to automatically demerit her for this portion of the test, instead only saying, “Well, it’s not that hard, I promise. Why don’t you give it a try?”

Fifteen minutes of jerking back and forth in the same place over and over again and easing six inches in and out of the space later, Floyd pinched his nose, then made a note.

“Let’s…let’s just go onto the next part of the test shall we?”

Mabel immediately brightened.


She then gunned the engine and drove over one of the concrete bumpers, and Floyd’s head hit the ceiling.

The steel frame of the old El Diablo was rattling.

The seats, bolted into the frame, were rattling.

The fuzzy dice that hung from the rearview mirror were perfectly still, somehow.

Floyd’s teeth and bones, on the other hand, were currently being jangled to pieces.

His eyes flicked to the speedometer. Somehow, most likely by sucking the magic from the ground underneath it’s tires, the old car was doing 119 an hour. He also noticed the gas slowly but surely dropping, and of course, it felt like it was going to rattle into a million pieces at any second, but the car was doing it.

“Miss Pines, it usually takes twenty minutes on the highway to reach Bend.”

Mabel nodded, intensely concentrating on the road ahead of her, hands steady on the wheel and unperturbed by the rattling of the car.

“We should be there, by my calculation, in nine.”

Mabel nodded. “My best record is eight minutes!”

They sailed past a sign and Floyd gritted out, “You do know the speed limit is 65 yes?”

“Grunkle Stan told me speed limit signs were suggestions not like, things you have to actually follow.”

Then Mabel swerved across three lanes of traffic and Floyd’s life flashed before his eyes.


While they didn’t blow through the stop signs like Floyd had feared, on the other hand….

“Miss Pines, you are aware what the word ‘stop’ means, correct?”

“Of course!” Mabel laughed. “Grunkle Stan told me that as long as I don’t see any cars coming ahead, I could do a California stop and roll through.”

Floyd was beginning to develop both a migraine and a hatred of the elderly man waiting for his niece back at the DMV.

They reached a school zone and suddenly Floyd could only see kindergarteners bouncing off of the bumper and flying into the air in the near future, bikes snarled in the fender and a road crossing guard chasing after them.  To his complete shock, Mabel slowed to twenty, looking constantly around her and stopping at every sign.

“You’re driving norm-good. Very good right now Miss Pines.”

“Grunkle Stan said I always had to be careful by schools because kids are dumb and run out in the road which I think is a little mean, especially since I never ran out in the road though that’s because Dipper usually grabbed me but-“

As Mabel rambled on, Floyd gave one begrudging point to Grunkle Stan for not fucking that up at least. Then Mabel gunned the engine once again as they left the school zone, and Floyd made a mental note to stop by the liquor store on the way home.

Forty five long, long minutes later, they had finally returned to the DMV. Mabel parked her car, taking up three spaces somehow, turned the car off, and looked expectantly at Floyd.

“How’d I do? Did I pass?!”

Did you pass?” Floyd breathed in through his nose, out of his mouth, and looked down at his sheet.

“You not once used your turn signals, half of the turns you took you went over the curb, you almost never stayed in your lane-“

“I’ve always colored outside of the lines!”

“-you adjusted your mirrors when you were on the highway and almost crashed, you slowed to forty to let a truck on and almost caused another crash, you turned left on red, you… you….”

Floyd felt his skin literally turning red.

“You have f-“

Suddenly, walking by the car window, Floyd caught the eye of an inoffensive looking young man. He was dressed more formally than even Floyd, in a dress shirt and cuff links. His fluffy brown hair seemed like it was begging to be crowned with some kind of hat. He caught Floyd’s eyes through the window and smiled.

No…noth…nothing human had teeth like that, overlapping and protruding fangs, far too many teeth to fit into a mortal mouth. The…the thing and oh Christ his eyes were yellow and the white of his eyes were bleeding black and fuck fuck pointed at the sheet full of demerits, then to Miss Pines still looking expectedly at him, then to the demerit sheet again. He grinned somehow even wider before disappearing into a puff of blue smoke.

Suddenly Floyd couldn’t get Miss Pines out of his car fast enough.


He ran out of the car, not even bothering to give Miss Pines her demerit sheet, and ran until he got to the break room, where he hid under the table and meebled.

That demon wanted Miss Pines to pass? Fine. Floyd just hoped that after never coming near him again, the other thing the demon did would be to make sure Mabel Pines didn’t kill herself or anyone else on the road.

(When it came time for Mabel to take the triplets in to get their driver licenses, she had no idea why the elderly man who seemed vaguely familiar took one look at them, and then screamed like a banshee and dove behind the counter. Maybe he ate something funny?)