Oprah loves bread.
This was a message Dipper, along with millions of Americans, had hammered into their skull every time that dumb commercial beamed onto their television. Whoever was in charge of managing advertising on Gravity Falls public broadcasting was obsessed with that commercial, making sure it played during every ad break on Ducktective.
"This is the joy for me!" Oprah exclaimed for about the thirty-sixth time Dipper had heard today. "I. Love. Bread. I love bread."
Everything about this commercial unnerved Dipper. From the tone in Oprah's voice about the simple wheat product to the way she made eye contact with the viewer, he had a strange feeling in his gut something wasn't right about this commercial.
"I now just manage it so I don't deny myself bread." Oprah continued.
"Hey, Mabel," Dipper began, turning to his sister on the couch, "have you ever felt...strange while watching that commercial? Or noticed anything eerie about it?"
Mabel gave Dipper a puzzled look. "Yeah, that woman does seem a little too crazy for bread."
"That wasn't what I...never mind."
You're letting your imagination get the best of you, Dipper thought to himself. It's just a stupid diet commercial.
Still, Dipper couldn't help but look away from the TV for the rest of the ad. He also thought about it a bit more before going to bed.
You're paranoid, Dipper...
Dipper found himself outside of an unknown mansion.
Ah, Dipper thought to himself. Am I...lucid dreaming? Yeah, I know I'm dreaming! I have this dream on a regular basis.
Just to make sure it was indeed that dream, he looked down at himself. He had a much more muscular body, felt a lot taller, and noted one detail was absolutely perfect - he had a full set of chest hair!
Dipper fist-pumped, excited to be doing this for the first time, and continued on with his usual dream. To the left of him, there was a gazebo, which he entered. Inside the gazebo was a hot tub, a flat-screen TV, a popcorn machine, a full arcade...pretty much everything you could ever wish for. (This was already a great dream on its own. Dipper was now going to make it even better.)
He turned towards the hot tub, in which there were several of Wendy's friends inside, wearing bathing suits.
"Hey, Dipper!" Thompson exclaimed. "Glad you could make it. Wendy's supposed to be here any minute."
"I'm here." Wendy's voice said from behind Dipper. "But, I, um...forgot something."
"Not important right now, Wendy. Just come party!" Tambry yelled to her friend, laughing as Thompson splashed water on her.
Dipper turned around, and his eyes became the size of saucers. Wendy was now standing in front of him fully naked, every inch of her prepossessing, slim torso exposed. Despite how many times Dipper had had this dream, it never seized to surprise him.
Normally the dream cut off at this point, but Dipper was in control and wasn't ready for this to end just yet.
"I forgot a bathing suit, so, uh...guess I'm going au naturel." Wendy laughed, climbing in the hot tub. To Dipper's surprise, none of her friends seemed to react to Wendy being nude at all.
Is this a common thing for them?, Dipper questioned to himself. Nah, Dipper. You're in a dream, remember?
Wendy smiled at Dipper, waving him towards the hot tub. He felt his heart fluttering as he removed his shirt and climbed into the tub.
Suddenly, Dipper felt everyone and everything else fade away around him. It was just him and Wendy now. Wendy stood up in the tub, again giving Dipper a full view.
"Like what you see?" Wendy teased, causing Dipper to blush. She ran her fingers through Dipper's hair, crouching down in the tub and leaning in towards him.
"Wendy, there's something I always wanted to-" Dipper began, before Wendy put her finger over his mouth, shushing him.
Dipper leaned in and puckered his lips, preparing for Wendy's soft embrace. However, things turned in the opposite direction as Wendy's mouth suddenly filled. She leaned over the back of the tub, and Dipper heard her vomit, followed by a lot of coughing.
What in the world? He hadn't planned for that...
Dipper's initial perplexity turned to utter terror as he looked over the back of the tub. There was no vomit, but a full, undigested...loaf of bread.
"Nope!" Dipper shouted, trying to use his thoughts to continue the erotic fantasy he had been having. But for whatever reason...he had lost control.
There was nothing Dipper could do but look on in horror as his crush began to undergo a grisly metamorphosis. She screamed in pain as her hair expanded, her skin color became darker, and her hips greatly expanded. Coughing up blood, her vocal cords began to change, as Dipper could tell by her screaming.
Wendy looked up at Dipper with a crazed look in her eyes.
Except it wasn't Wendy anymore.
It was...Oprah Winfrey.
"T̫̬̫̠̗̘̀h̭̀i̜̜s̮̜͉̝̹ͅ ̮̭͚͇̫͖i͏͚̞̤s̗͖͉͉ ͉ṭ̬̤̗he̠̘̻͓̟ ͏j̩͎̙̝̰̗o̸̮̘ỳ ̨̰͚̟̞̦̙foṛ̤̫͟ ͓͖̤̰̠͖͜m̵̦͕̣̤̮̬e͝!" Oprah screamed in Dipper's ear, tossing a Thomas'® Maple French Toast English Muffin into his mouth. Despite its pleasant taste, Dipper quickly spat it out, not knowing what she could have done with it. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure where she got the English muffin.
Had Oprah been in control of his dream the whole time?
Dipper saw a background generate around him: a cold, stuffy, large area of space that appeared to be some sort of factory. Machines were all around him. It was unpleasant, but gave him an opportunity to run.
"I̢̨͏̛ ́L̡͟͜Ò̡́͞͏V͏͘È̸͜͠͠ ̸̷̛B̴̀͝Ŕ͝È̢̧̨̢A҉̷͏D̴̸͘!҉҉̷̧͟" Oprah exclaimed in an almost demonic voice, chasing after Dipper at an incredibly fast pace (all that bread was certainly giving her a lot of energy). She spit some sort of acid at him, which Dipper quickly dodged, before making the mistake of tripping on his shoelace he had not noticed was untied.
Dipper fell flat on his face next to a machine, giving Oprah the perfect opportunity to do her worst.
"W̷҉̡̀͟A̕͞͡N̷͢͟Ţ̡̛͝ ̸̷̵̷S̶O̕͠Ḿ͟҉E̶̷̶̡͠ ҉̷M̴O̷R͏҉E̸͞҉͏ ͠҉҉͠B̶̡̧̛Ŕ̸E̢͘͡Á͟͝͞D͝ ̀͝B́͝B̴͞?̷̢̀͝͝"
Oprah's hot, sticky acid squirted Dipper right in the face, immediately causing him to undergo the worst pain he'd ever felt in his life. He felt like his face was melting off, and touching his face...it was. Oprah simply tossed a baguette at him and hysterically laughed.
Dipper began to black out, screaming with the best of his ability...until all at once he felt fine. Like he had never gotten acid on his face in the first place. He reached again towards his face, and it seemed intact, which was quite jarring considering how far gone it was ten seconds ago. However, he noticed it was a lot softer, almost like...no.
Without thinking twice, Dipper removed a chunk of his "face" (!!!), which seemed to rip off way too easily. With one bite, he recognized that his face has its own taste to it.
Panicking, Dipper looked around the factory, and saw that every single machine was mass-producing loafs of bread. In one machine, he saw something was absolutely haunting.
None other than his sister's pained face, just frozen on the heel of bread. The machine went through another process, and within a couple of seconds her face was gone.
"Why are you doing this?!" Dipper demanded, his entire body shaking as tears ran down his eyes.
Oprah gave him an almost sympathetic look, and suddenly the two made a connection that would allow Dipper to see into her traumatic childhood.
It was tomato soup and grilled cheese for dinner at the Winfrey home. A happy child Oprah sat at the dinner table with her mother and half-sister, as Oprah opened a loaf of bread and, deciding two pieces was not enough for a grilled cheese, added six more slices.
Her mother simply laughed. "Oprah, don't you think that's enough bread?"
Oprah felt her heart sink into her stomach. Enough bread? Enough bread? Enough bread?
T̸͔̰̰̲̩̠̪̝͘̕͠͝ͅH̡̢̗̲͎̭̺̖͈̺͓̝͕͇̰͎͢Ę̴͚̥͎͎͉͖̥͙̟̘̘̼̼͝R̶̫̬̤̭͚̤͔̪̥̟̙̭̤͎̝͡Ȩ̶̴̮̻͈̜͈̦̗̬̝̟͚͚̣̹̬̯̮̝̤͞ ̢̪̹̫͕͈̳͉̣W̴̛͓͙̥̬̹͎A̶̜͚͔͚͍̼̗͈͔̮̞̩̬͓ͅŞ̶̧̢̭͈̤̼̠̱͚̙̜̜͔̹̳̻̤̦͙͝ͅ ̢͎̗̠̟͕̟̮̲̩͔́Ń̢̛̼͙̝̤̜͇̞͝E̳̫̠̻̘͎̱̬̱̲̠̲̼̹̼̕͘V̦̥͕̜̠̼̮̬̻͓̖̦̱̬͉̝͕͢͞Ȩ̟̘̺̫̻̼̟̦̪̹͟͠R͏҉̼̪̙̝̻ ̢̛̱̳̮͙͎͉͙̥͚̣̙̩͖̦̘͖͜͞Ę̨͏̼͉͎͈̪̺̙̗̬͖͈̣͇̟͉̼͠N̵̨͔͓̤͈̭͈̼̺̹̣̱͉̻̹̞̖͉͝͡͡Ó̪͇̫̪̠̻̱̳͢Ų̝̞͔̞͍͓͡G̴̯͍͍̫̝̹̼̪̰͙̤̯̠͖͕̞͘͡ͅͅH̵̗͉̹̠̪͖͜͟ ̧̨̫͇̠͎̘̗̠̞̖͇B̢̫͎̹̫͍̦̟͉̯̻̮̣̖ͅŔ̶̷̖͍̻̠͎͔͇͈̻̺̱̝̫͢͠E͓̭͙̖͞͞A̹͓͍̫̙̜̲̟̞̜͓͈̟͉̭͍̖͘͝ͅD͏͏̶̸̟͖̞̲͔̪̦̼̠͇̺͢.̧̕͏̘̦̠͇͈͍̱͚͇̞͚
While distracted by her childhood flashback, Oprah took the opportunity to finish off Dipper. She stabbed him in his torso with a knife she generated, blood squirting in her face.
Dipper simply gave her a pained look and fell to the ground, having been defeated. Oprah began slicing into his torso, cutting through the protective fat on his body to reach his heart. She took two pieces of bread, smashed his heart in between them, and took a big bite.
It was absolutely delicious.
With a smile, she cut the rest of Dipper's internal organs out, leaving him with nothing but blood and veins in his body. The machines would take care of those.
Oprah had to admit, this boy was tougher than most of his victims, but simply no match for her in the end.
"I can hardly believe this!" Dr. Oz exclaimed, looking again at the label on the bread. "This bread is whole-grain, paleo, vegan, packed with vitamins and minerals, and tastes this good? How do you do it, woman?"
The audience clapped for Oprah as she blushed.
"Thank you, Dr. Oz." Oprah replied. "It's simply an old family recipe, kinda enhanced, if you will. And I'm happy to announce to everyone in your audience...look under your seats."
Everyone in the audience gasped at once.
"EVERYONE GETS A LOAF OF OPRAH BREAD!" Oprah exclaimed, dancing around Dr. Oz's stage in excitement. "You get bread! You get bread! E͜͏̶̣̳̬̭̟̪͘͠V̡̛͚͖̼͈̰̙̜͙̝̼̰̼̥̜̱̫̀́͟Ę͉̪̟͕̀͘͞͠Ŗ̵̶̴̠̯̳̞̝̻̲͠Y̵̯̭̣̠͖̼̲̺̕͢͠ͅǪ̴̳͓͔̰͍̳͓͓̹N̡͎̳̥̼̺͎̪͙̣̙͔̩̥̖͖͘͝ͅͅE̵̶̛͈̗͓̭̖͘ ̶̀͏̴̗̝̯̜̘̠̞̹̦̦̣̗̺͕̩̘͟Ǵ̵͇̯̞̣̖͓̖̱̙͖͍̗̙͘͜͞Ę̴͇̬̜̗͓̖̰̮̦̬̯͕͖̥̟͖̠͉̪͟͢T̴͔̯̱̯̩͟͜S̬̲̺̥͉͔̥̗̕̕͡ͅ ̷̮̩̮͇̲͖̥̯͜͡B̕͏̢̠̠̙͓̼͕̰̤̺͈͓̰͓̘̤̺͜ͅR̘͚̰̘̞̱͓̹̥͢E̵͓̲̼͎̻̳͖͘͢͞͝A̴̬̮͚̥͎̭̦̰̪̺̫͇̮͝D̴̨̖̝͓͈͍̘͍̱̝͍̕͘͡ͅͅ!̡̘̮͓̜̪̞͎̙͙̥̣͚͎͕̩̕͘̕"
The audience suddenly gave Oprah a shocked look.
"Sorry, I, uh, had something in my throat." Oprah stated, letting out a slight chuckle.