Dipper stared at the ceiling, ultimately deciding that, no offense meant, girly sleepovers were one of his Top Five Most Hated Things, only slightly below Robbie. It wasn't that he didn't like Mabel's friends, it was just that, well, they were kind of disruptive.
The first time, Mabel wanted to have the girls take over their bedroom, but he had convinced them that the living room had more space for them to do their girl things while the attic had not only very little space but also more infestations than was thought possible so it probably was not the best idea to sleep on the floor. So they went downstairs and he slept upstairs and everything was fine until Grunkle Stan caught them playing around in his shop.
So sleepovers were decidedly Not Allowed in the living room.
That meant the second time, Dipper was forced to sleep on the living room chair. He could vaguely hear girlish giggling come from the ceiling, but that wasn't bothering him too much.
What was bothering him was the dust rattling down onto his face as they audibly jumped on the beds.
Dipper rolled around on the chair until his face was pressed against the armrest, which he realized was a mistake because the chair was saturated with Grunkle Stan's funk and hair (please not from the armpits please not from the armpits) but he kept his position because it was slightly better than getting dust in his eyes. It wasn't like he was going to suffocate on old man stink. Maybe.
The odd thing was, the thing he was most worried about was whether the girls were talking about him upstairs.