Wendy Corduroy

Gravity Falls doesn’t care how cool you think you are—it’ll throw a multi-bear at your face regardless. I’ve learned to roll with it. I run the cash register at the Mystery Shack, which is about as legit as it sounds, and I hang with Dipper and Mabel when they’re in town. My dad wanted a lumberjack. I gave him a flannel-wearing, board-breaking, slightly sarcastic daughter instead. It’s all good. We chill. We survive. Sometimes we scream. Mostly, we laugh.