Prognosis: Chat's Chew Toy - Anonymous (2024)

Wake up

Grian’s neck yelps in pain as he wakes up from his slumber. Having gigantic elytra wings weighing down your back daily combined with a restless body is a recipe for a perpetually sore back.Groggily, Grian blinks open his weighted eyelids, brushing off the sleep. He takes a moment to appreciate the cocoon of blankets his dead-to-the-world body has packaged himself in before carefully stretching up into the sky.

After letting out the most cat-like yawn his vocal cords would allow him to make, Grian fully sits up and gently rubs the back of his neck.With the slightest touch, Grian’s nervous system sends erratic pulses throughout his entire body. Not the sense of pain–no, the kind of vibrations that make you hyper aware of every breath, every muscle twitch, every heartbeat. The kind that swarms your ears with a familiar warm buzz.

“Huh,” Grian speaks aloud, voice still slightly scratchy. “I guess, I have an audience today.”

A cacophony of loud voices respond curiously. “O-OUCH!” Grian grabs his head, using his thumbs to apply firm pressure. “Shut up! I will go back to sleep!NoNOnostopbekindNOsorryWakeNoNoShhhhQuietBEshhQUIETcalmshh

Grian continues to wince, internally regretting acknowledging the voices pounding in his head. With a winced huff, Grian places his feet upon the wooden floor of his barely finished house, and proceeds to make his way to find breakfast.

He moves with efficiency, quickly boiling water and finding tea bags he bought from Cleo. The voices slowly calm to a whispering hum, like standing in a field of flowers filled with pollinating insects and the gentle breeze. Grian adds a spoonful of honey to his cup, the swirling spoon harmonizing with the voices in his head. He manages to ride the wave of voices through his morning routine with little hassle.

After finishing the last of his morning tea, Grian takes a second to mourn the day’s peaceful calm before deciding to rumble the beehive currently buzzing through his head. After all, Grian’s not known for his impulse control.

“Don’t make me regret this, but I’m stuck deciding what I want to do today.” The rush of internal frenzied voices flooded his senses. “Man, you are not good at being quiet! Elect chosen speakers or something!” Grian bemoans.

A faster rhythm of voices overtake the rumbling momentarily, before a sensation of static covers the voices, dampening them back to a reasonable noise. It leaves Grian feeling like he’s got cotton stuffed in his ears, but that seems like a small price to pay to prevent the headache of the eager crowd.

“Thank the void you got noise control. Now I believe I was deciding what to avoid doing–I mean what I;m doing today.” Grian pauses to think, the voices providing a background layer of sound. He then gets an idea. “Let me know some suggestions of what I should do today, chat? I’ll let you come up with choices, just know I will be going back to sleep if you suggest something ridiculous.”

~You see a pop-up saying ‘click your choice to vote’~

Permit Shop! Permit Shop! Cause Chaos in the Permit Shop!**
The Sea calls…Time to Fish
Bug another Hermit! You know you want to! Play What doin’



“You don’t always make great decisions, chat, but I’m agreeable to this.” Grian grins. He takes a moment to look through his inventory, double checking that he has an enderchest and other pranking materials accessible.

Grian walks through his front door and properly equips his elytra, looking out at magic mountain from his cliffside platform. He takes a second to admire the skillful builds of his neighbors–from Gem’s lighthouse overlooking the calm sea to Scar’s intricate train, he was blessed to experience his friends' creations every morning.

Grian grabs a rocket in his hand before addressing the cacophony in his head. “Alright, where should I wander?”

Go Left! Head towards the lighthouse!
Go Right! Head towards the train!
Spam the mail system! PRANK EVERYONE!!



Grian races off into the air, eager to see at least one of the hermits that makes his inner prankster resonate stronger. Adrenaline rushing through his veins, he ponders which one he should visit first.




“Let’s see what Scar’s doing.” Grian says, drifting higher in the sky. He loops through the air, trying to see if he can spy the terraformer in one of the many train cars he’d made.

Grian just about zones out, unable to find Scar, until luck would have it, he emerges from a giant water tank on his train, savanna adventuring outform soaking wet.

Hotguy time! Get your revenge! HOTGUY PRANK!!!
Go talk with Scar! See what he’s doing!



Grian aims his wings higher in the sky, gaining velocity. He rockets higher than build height, intending to get as much speed as possible. With appropriate height above the target, Grian pulls out his bow and double checks he has appropriate ammunition.

Ten arrows. That’s plenty.

Grian pulls his wings in, and focuses on his target below. He tucks his arms to the side, tightly clutching his bow in a way to reduce air drag.

He feels the air whistling around him as he plummets.

He draws out his bow in front of him.

Target’s in his sight.

Focus…aim… Release.

Grian’s elytra brushes the edge of the train car as the arrow flies straight to Scar’s feet.

He’s close enough to hear Scar’s playful laugh, as his target takes to the sky. “No one can out Hotguy this Hotguy!”

Grian’s quick on the rocket spam, soaring up after Scar. While ascending, he draws his bow and fires two shots at Scar.

Scar’s quick to return fire, causing Grian to drop one of his arrows to dodge a shot. He’s starting to run low on arrows, but he doesn’t hesitate to loads his fifth arrow into his bow.

Scar loops around in the sky, clearly trying to gain velocity on his next shot. Grian releases both his fifth and sixth arrow in a successful attempt to ruin Scar’s trajectory.

He manages to clip the edge of Scar’s wings with shot seven, causing Scar to plummet in a panic. Scar’s quick to regain momentum and return fire.

Grian hastily dodged the next barrage of arrows, twisting through the sky as adrenline rushed through his veins. He can’t help but let out a hearty laugh as he sends his next arrow racing through the air.

Scar responds to his laugh with more arrows, flung wildly towards Grian. Rocketing up into the sky, Grian returns fire, narrowly missing his opponent.

Grian’s last arrow weighs heavy in his hands. “Better do this properly.” Grian whispers to himself.

He rockets higher into the sky, before sharply diving down, trying his best to gain momentum whilst dodging Scar’s returning fire.

Wind rushing past him, Grian sets his focus dead on his target.He perfects his aim, squinting his eyes to pinpoint exact trajectory.

All that’s left is to fire.

Grian lets the arrow fly.

It rushes forward, steady torwards Scar.

Only for Scar to sharply dive down out of the arrows path and into the path of a solid oak tree.

GoodTimeWithScar experienced kinetic energy whilst escaping from Grian.

“YESS!!” Grian shouts in triumph, elated at his victory! He dives to the floor to start gathering Scar’s stuff, continuing to boast. “TAKE THAT HOTGUY!”

Unfortunately, his wild celebration covered over the telltale hiss from an about-to-explode creeper.

A sharp ‘BOOM’ rings through his ears before a nothingness overtakes all his senses.

Grian was blown up by a Creeper whist escaping from GoodTimeWithScar.

Ending 25: Mutually comedic destruction

Click here to start over!



Grian swiftly dives down to the edge of the tank, perching himself on the edge. “Hello Scar!”

Scar yelps, falling straight back into the tank below. Grian quickly helps pull him out of the water, and hands him a convenient towel. “Oh sweet baby Jellie, Grian, you got me good!”

“Wanted to scare you a bit.” Grian smiles. “What are you doing?”

“I was trying to replace these stinking dolphins! They’re so dumb, Grian, I’m on like dolphin number 25 at this point.” Scar rants.

“Wanna avoid doing tasks together then?” Grian offers. “I have an idea.”

“Do I ever!” Scar agrees enthusiastically. “What are we doing?”

Ask Scar about the Disneyland parks!!
PRANK TIME! Be menaces together!


Prank Time

“Let’s go be menaces!” Grian laughs, “I miss pranking people!”

“Now now Grian.” Scar announces, channeling his mayoral tone, “I am not a menace! I am a delightful member of hermit society!”

“Yeah, keep on thinking that Scar.” Grian sasses back. “Now, have any particular targets?”

Scar’s affronted expression washes off his face quickly, as he rubs his hands together. “Well, some particular Mollusks are on my prank on-sight list!”

Grian sighs. “Scar, we're not pranking the snails.” Scar frowns, before quickly raising his eyebrows again. Grian interrupts Scar before he can open his mouth. “Or Big Ron.” Scar goes back to frowning.

POKE THE GOAT!!!! C’mon You know you want too!!
Mess with hermits in the Shopping District!!
Bug someone with dramatic reactions!! Make it a show!!



“What if we go straight to prank war?” Grian smiles, murderous glee in his eyes.

“Grian, you couldn’t possibly mean you want to poke Doc again? We’ve done that the last several seasons!” Scar, asks hesitantly.

“Doc’s one big softie, you know that Scar.” Grian continues, “Wouldn’t it be fun to start some chaos?”

“I can’t resist chaos Grian.” Scar pleads. “But what would we even do?”

Mess with his Redstone. You know you want to!
Be smart–find a weakness! Plan something.
Scar’s correct, Terrorize the shopping district instead!.



“We could mess around with one of his shops?” Grian suggests. “I’ve heard he’s got a shiny new trim shop.”

“His new shop is very prankable.” Scar says, a hint of hesitation still evident in his voice.

“Cmon Scar!” Grian encourages. “If Pearl can be a redstone extraordinaire, how hard could it be for us to test out his redstone?”

“Oh fine. Lead the way then.” Scar agrees, pulling out his rockets.

One quick flight to the shopping district, Grian and Scar touch down in front of Doc’s giant pile of sand. Doc had really out done himself with his giant statue work shoveling the shop’s exterior.

Grian pulls out a pickaxe and begins to mine into the glass floor of Doc’s shop.

Blaring alarms begin to ring, screeching throughout the entire building.

Uh oh.

“Grian and Scar! What’s the meaning of this?” Doc storms into his shop, eyes filled with fury.

“We were–” Grian cuts off, not having an excuse ready.

“We were investigating on official Poe-Poe business. Wanted to inspect permit display and investigate the ore snatcher incinimenent.” Scar comes to his rescue, using his silver tongue to the best of his ability.

“You’re not even in costume! DON’T MAKE EXCUSES!” Doc continues to argue.

“We were so concerned about the ore snatcher, we came on our day off.” Scar continues to cajole Doc. “We haven’t been able in good conscience leave an honorable citizen vulnerable to such thievery.”

Doc narrows his eyes at the pair. “Is this true Grian? Walk me through your intentions? You aren’t a part of the Poe-Poe.”

Grian tries not to gulp nervously. “Well, it’s like Scar says, He wanted to have the help of a governing body to investigate.”

Doc raises his body up stiff, looking annoyed. His face is so annoyed that it almost looks like Doc was sucking on a sour lemon. “I’m watching you two. You may be telling the truth but anyone could be the ore snatcher. And anyone who messes with the goat will regret it.”

With a final huff, Doc storms out of his shop grumbling about ore snatchers and pesky birds.

“Phew!” Scar sighs, serious mask lifted. “I totally thought we were toast Grian! This pranking business was a bad idea.”


Grian’s face paled. Uh oh. Time to Run.

Ending 22: Mistakes were made

Click here to start over!



“We could always go mess around in the shopping district?” Grian suggests. “Do you still have those creeper costumes?”

“Oh I do!” Scar grins. “We may have to look through my chest monster to find them though.”

“Lead me to it.” Grian says. “I’m not even going to think about the hour it’s going to take to find anything in there.”

“I can’t even defend myself,” Scar says resignedly. “It took me too long just to find wood the other day.”

The two hermits got to work tracking down their creeper costumes amongst the chaos that was Scar’s organizational skills. Grian manages to find several handy invisibility potions during the search, before Scar finally pulled out the costumes. They take a momentary detour to upload an exploding hiss sound onto a goat horn to fully simulate the true experience.

Scoping out the shopping district, Grian and Scar spot Cleo midst restocking her bookshop. They race down to the ground, crouching down between Joel’s honey shop and Big Wood. Chugging down an invisibility pot, they quickly stash their wings and armor, making sure not to hold anything.

They creep up on Cleo, scoping out the best way to get close but make it seem like an actual creeper. Their resident zombie was sufficiently distracted, so Grian and Scar quickly travel up to them,

Unfortunately in their speed, they forgot zombies can still hear.

“Who’s there?” Cleo looks around her shop, spying no customers. “I can hear you.” They squint their eyes, looking for particles. “Someone’s got invis. C’mon, show yourself.”

Grian freezes. Luckily Scar comes to his rescue.

“You caught me Cleo.” Scar puts on his best resigned tone, walking closer to their target. “Unfortunately, I didn’t bring a milk bucket, so unless you’d let me raid your coffee counter, I’m afraid I’m stuck like this.”

“The only way you’re getting my supplies is if you pay.” Cleo responds. Sensing an opportunity, Grian begins to creep closer to Cleo, using Scar as a distraction.

“Oh Cleo! You’d rob a man of his hard-earned money to fix his own potion effects. What if it was poison Cleo? Would you let me die?” Scar laments. Grian steps through the doors of the Cafe, banking wide away from Cleo’s vision.

“Yes.” Cleo responds without hesitation. “You can’t tell me that you don’t have the money for it when you have a large tower of diamond blocks outside your base.” Grian makes it fully behind the bookshelves, allowing him to suit up and begin walking up behind Cleo.

“Cleo! You’d really let me die?” Scar puts on his best puppy-dog tone, but can’t quite cover up the lilt of laughter running through it. Grian pulls out the horn in his off hand.

“I’d kill you right now if you’d like me to prove it.” Cleo says.

Grian sounds the horn. A strong HISS echos right next to the zombie’s head.

“f*ck! OH GOD!” Cleo screams.

Grian can’t help but burst out laughing.

“YOU TWO ARE MENACES!” They yell, breathing still light from screaming. “Oh Scar I’m definitely going to kill you now. Both of you.”

Grian and Scar toss on their elytra almost in sync. “Only if you can catch us!”

Ending 21: Zombies and Creepers and Scar, Oh My!!

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“Let’s put our heads together.” Grian says determined.

“Wouldn’t that just hurt us?” Scar looks at him puzzled.

“Scar, no. It means let’s think of a plan together.” Grian says, rubbing his temples. Maybe this would be harder than he thought. “What do we know Doc is up to this season?”

“He’s been ranting about a diamond ore snatcher. He reported it during my Poe-poe shift.” Scar hums before continuing, “He’s gone as far as installing an alarm for block breaking sounds, with a warden to enforce it.”

“So you’re saying he’s created an area where he can’t mine blocks.” Grian rephrases, “I have an idea.”

“Oooo.” Scar encourages. “Tell me!”

“We’ll need a noteblock, repeaters, redstone, a fish head, and obsidian.” Grian starts rifling through his inventory, checking to see what items he has on him.

Grian hears the exact moment that Scar puts together his exact plan. “That’s Evil! I’m in!”

It hadn’t taken much skill for the two of them to locate Doc’s conveniently placed scaffolding, and get into the guts of Doc’s Trim shop.

“I forget Doc uses so many diamonds per redstone construction. He wouldn’t need that tunnel bore if he chose to use stone or wool like a normal redstoner.” Grian fiddles with his thumbs while scouting for an open area to place his trap.

“That’s like trying to declaw a cat–redstoners need their own abnormal thing to be able to survive.” Scar responds, making it down the scaffolds. “Can you imagine Tango saying ‘thing’ always or Mumbo making simple farm tutorials while being confident?”

“Huh.” Grian pauses to try and picture that. “I think that’s a horror film scene, honestly.”

Scar wanders over to where Doc has left a sizable blank canvas for their prank. “Anyway! Let’s just place the jukebox.”

“WAIT!” Grian interrupts before Scar can screw up their prank. “Place the layer of obsidian on the floor first. Then the jukebox. Remember we can’t mine these blocks.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that.” Scar laughed. “Lay down your obsidian then!”

The rest of the plan goes off, without a hitch, setting up the jukebox on an infinite loop of sound, placing the squishy fish head atop and boxing the contraption with obsidian. The squelch of their prank echoed behind their footsteps as they left.

All that was left to do was wait.

Nearly one hour later, the chat was buzzing with activity.


Docm77: YOU WILL PAY!!

ZombieCleo: Doc already know about your ore snatcher

ZombieCleo: I will be seeing you in court still

Docm77: no not that!

Docm77: my shop’s filled with the stupid cod head sound

Docm77: and i can’t get to the player

Grian: sounds pesky

Docm77: YOU

Docm77: GRIAN

Grian: yes

Grian: ?


GoodTimeWithScar: he had some help

Docm77: SCAR



Grian: we didnt

Grian: its boxed away from ur redstone

ZombieCleo: Doc, quit your whining

Docm77: IT’S ON!


Docm77 was obliterated by sonically-charged shriek from Wrath of the Goat

GoodTimeWithScar: LOL

Grian: lol

ZombieCleo: that’s just hilarious

Ending 23: Redstone and Grian naturally repel each other. Seek help if an abnormal reaction is present.

Click here to start over!



“Why don’t we target someone with dramatic reactions?” Grian suggests. “Make a spectacle of our investments.”

“Ooh I’ve been meaning to get revenge on Ren for trying to strong arm me to give up my terracotta permits.” Scar says giddily.

“Don’t mention permits, this is no official matter. I’m not getting the outfit.” Grian quickly corrects. “But pranking Ren, well, I’m always up for that.”

“What shall we do to the Terracotta bully?” Scar proclaims Ren’s title dramatically.

“I think you’re implying some sort of terracotta-based prank but I don’t own any terracotta permits.” Grian suddenly gets an idea. “What if we played with teleporting? Similar to 12 Xisumas, but just us teleporting away at random times and reappearing?”

“We could pretend we’re part of that Giga corp thing he’s got going this season!” Scar chimes in excitedly. “Hold on, I’ve got the perfect outfits for it too!”

It took Grian and Scar practically the whole afternoon to set up their prank–from Grian using his limited redstone knowledge to set up several enderpearl teleporting stations at various places around Ren’s base, to Scar retrofitting the Season 8 space suits to look more like Giga corp replicas. Both Hermits were brainstorming of plotlines and jokes during this entire time, leading to an impromptu idea session that took over an hour. By the time they’d dressed up and set up the enderpearls, both Scar and Grian were overeager to mess with Ren.

Ren logged in at the middle of his Giga Corp base, perfectly to plan. Grian clicks the timed redstone on, starting the chain reaction.

Scar approaches Ren, talking in a deeper voice than normal. “Giga Agent Rendog. There has been an incident with the time defibrillator. Giga corp needs your immediate help.” With somehow perfect timing, Scar is teleported from Ren’s sight.

Grian strolls up from a completely different place, emulating as similar of a tone as he can to Scar. “Several agents have been trying to contact you. Giga Corp worries that the entire time continuum is at stake.”

“Jeepers dude!” Ren responds, clearly worried.

Grian teleports away just as planned. Scar’s already walking out from somewhere else.

“We’ve calculated exact odds of specific scenarios that you can do in order to save the world.” Scar says, helmet echoing his voice. “You and only you can succeed in these tasks.”

The teleport moves Scar away, leaving Grian to fly down from the top of the Giga Beacon tower in front of Ren. “First you must spin in place exactly 10 and a fourth times. Do it now! You must not waste time!”

To his credit, Ren immediately spins in place, as fast as he can. He stays surprisingly steady on his feet. Grian feels like his doggish nature may help with spinning around to chase one’s own tail.

It’s at this point the teleport timing is off, as Scar bounds up to Ren well before Grian teleports away. However, Ren’s dizziness serves as functional cover instead. Scar begins to instruct Ren. “Now, you must fight an enemy much greater than yourself. Find a cactus and behead it. Return to this spot with it’s gut to sacrifice.”

Ren’s woozy body sprawls into action, racing into the sky to spot the nearest desert greenery. Luckily Grian had planned for this, purposely planting several cacti in the sand nearest to Ren’s base.

Ren flies back sooner than expected, hands covered in cactus spines. “I bring the flesh of the fowl beast. What next.”

“Light it on fire.” Grian instructs. “Wait until it’s fully engulfed in flame, then spit on it.” Grian teleports away before he can see Ren follow his instructions.

Scar is quick to recover their prank. “Now Rendog, you must travel into the guts of Doc’s redstone, and whisper a secret to it. Wait to hear the contraption’s response before traveling back here with exactly 3 pieces of sand in your inventory.

Ren rushes back into the sky. Grian can’t hold his laughter in anymore, bursting into a fit of giggles. “Oh Scar!”

“Shh.. Try and hold it together Grian!” Scar hushes, his own laughter barely contained. Grian manages to quiet his laughter just as Ren travels back to them.

“Please hand the sand to us, agent Ren.” Scar says, as serious as he could manage. “This ritualized sand will be able to repair the fluxx capacitor.

“You have saved your timeline from certain doom.” Grian says, laughter starting to break through his facade. “We thank you.”

The last enderpearl chamber triggers, immediately teleporting Grian and Scar below Ren’s base, close enough to listen to Ren’s reaction.

“What just happened?” Ren says, baffled. “I think I need to lay down.”

Ending 24: Houston, We’ve got pranksters afoot.

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The plans for hijinks with Scar fizzle out of Grian’s brain. “I don’t remember.”

“Usually I’m the forgetful one.” Scar jokes.

“Just usually?” Grian taunts.

“Hey, I remember things sometimes.” Scar responds affronted. “I’ve got a remembering brain for the things that count!”

“The last hermitcraft meeting.”

“Most hermits don’t attend weekly. I fell asleep at the last one after Ren’s third speech.”

“Gem’s birthday bash.”

“I was stuck in a bubild-building timelapse, I sent her a message after.”

“Keralis’s pool party.”

“I didn’t want to be stuck in endless innuendos between Keralis, Ren, and Cleo again.”

“Scar, I’d believe that excuse if X or Mumbo was telling me that, but you love innuendos, especially when tipsy. And you’d have an acceptable reason to not wear a shirt like you want to do so often.

“I wear shirts! I’ve got a special JellieLand one underneath my zookeeper outfit!” Scar unbuttons his shirt, revealing a white t-shirt adorned with a cartoon Jellie.

“Hotguy’s has a whole shirtless calendar! You managed to Xisuma in the background of one of the photos and proceeded to edit your abs onto him!”

“How do you know that wasn’t just Xisuma?”

“X is practically superglued his armor to his own body, he would NOT do a shirtless photoshoots no matter how many diamonds Keralis promised him.” Grian groaned.

“He would if I stole all of his armor?” Scar says like he’s question himself.

“You’re telling me Xisuma, the mother hen worrier of an admin, would not have a spare shirt stored in his enderchest for emergencies?” Grian raises his eyebrow at Scar. “In fact we’ve seen him pull out shirts during the eggnog incident at christmas!

“We did?”

“Well, I did… you might have been either challenging Bdubs to a snowball fight or arguing about Horses at that point.”

“Horse’s are an abomination of a creature. They sweat and have dense fur! They carry massive bodies on spindly legs while walking on their fingertips! Running makes their lungs bleed!”

“How did you get so much knowledge on horses?”

“After Bdubs inflicted a so-called horse curse, I got carried away with proving him wrong, I found more about horses, which led to me looking up other cool animals. Did you know sharks have no bones?”

“I did, actually.” Grian responds. “Wait, what were we even talking about again?”

Scar shrugs. “I don’t remember.”

Ending 20: The Tangential Cycle.

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“Chat I don’t think it’s even a question who we’re going to bug today.” Grian says, looping through the sky.

As Grian flies off to Mumbo’s base, he admires his friend’s newest builds. Seeing custom trees built in with many unique shop-like buildings feels like he’s observing the work of a terraformer or builder, not his local spoon. Grian weaves through the lush undergrowth, feeling a sense of wonder. He’s making mental notes of all of the details, from the rickety elevator to the trapdoor mushrooms, so he can praise Mumbo later til his face turns cherry red.

“Grian!” A voice jolt him back from his thoughts. “I’d been looking for you for ages!--Wow Mumbo’s really stepped up on the terraforming huh?” Joel bends around the trees, landing a few feet from Grian and tucking his elytra wings tightly to his back. “Would you like to accompany me while terrorizin–I mean– testing out Etho’s new frogger game?”

“Joel I swear your obsessed wi-” Grian starts

“HE is obsessed with ME.” Joel quickly interrupts with a huff. “Now are you coming or not?”




“Lead the way, Joel.” Grian gestures towards the general direction of the shopping district.

Joel grabs his rockets and races off into the sky. Wanting to tease the new hermit further, Grian uses his flying prowess to catch up, hovering close enough to be heard over the rushing wind.

Joel spies the movement, and before Grian can yell, pulls his elytra in and dives, rushing to the shopping district. This quickly turns into a competition, the two hermits barrelling faster and faster, speeding their way to Etho’s froglight shop.

Grian hits his wings through some thin branches as he drops down in front of the grass stairway. Joel is brushing off his own shirt, having crashed hard into the dirt. “I win!” Joel declares.

Grian just rolls his eyes, not bothering to protest their impromptu contest. “What are we doing?”

“Well, I was going to just go down and bug Etho immediately to playtest his game, but knowing him, he’s probably not even here yet.” Joel complains.

“In that case,” Grian smirks, pulling out an enderchest, “Let’s incentivize not leaving us to wait.”

Joel rubs his hands giddily, “ooo! What’s the plan, G?”

Grian pulls out a shulker of wool. “Remember Skizz’s guess the build? I’ve heard you also like to make statues.”

Joel cackles. “I’m so ready for this.”

The two builders work quickly, creating multiple abstract representations of Etho, with various heights and amounts of limbs. Joel seemed focused on making every statue with short legs, proclaiming since he was so tall, every hermit dwarfs in comparison. Grian of course made the mistake of joking that Joel must be compensating for something, causing a flurry of playful arguments back and forth for the rest of the build time.

Eventually, Joel must have gotten tired of waiting for their victim to walk over, since he decides to try and provoke him. “ETHO!!” Joel yells down the stairs. “Where am I supposed to go? Did you move the entrance?” Grian barely stiffles his laugher, trying his best to not give up the bit.

An echoed voice shouts back. “I’ll come get you, wait a second.” Joel and Grian scurry to become ‘lost’ amongst the statues. Almost a minute later their victim emerged from his redstone crawlspace, chunks of dirt still present in his white hair. “It’s right over here.” Etho out, splitting the difference between the entrance and the two pranksters.

Both parties stand waiting an uncomfortable amount of time, Grian and Joel full of bitten-tongue laughter and Etho stonefaced.

“Come on Etho!” Joel rants, apparently done with waiting. “You’re telling me you're so bluming blind that you didn’t see the multiple messy statues right in front of your shop?”

“No, I saw them.” Etho states flatly. “You two need to work on your prank skills if you want a reaction though. I could hear you shouting about them the entire time you were making them. Stairwells echo, you know.”

Joel growls in frustration, equipping his sword to his hand. “ETHO!”

“Aww Joel.” Etho says, a hint of patronizing flavoring his voice. “Come here, It’s alright.” Etho holds his arms out wide, offering a hug to Joel.

Joel charges him, sword slashing first. Etho sprints backwards toying with Joel, staying just outside of his reach.

Grian yells after the pair, “Get him Joel!” He has a feeling the whole shopping district is about to witness this cat and mouse game.

Ending 10: Best not to prank a ninja

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Spoon Prank

“Unfortunately, you’ve caught me mid-prank set up.” Grian whispers. “Enjoy your time messing with Etho. Tell him I will drop by to playtest some other time and good luck.”

“Who’s obsessed now?” Joel sasses back.

“Joel, green isn’t a good look on you.”

“Actually it makes my hair look very lush and attractive, thank you very much.” Joel quips. “Bye now, G.” Joel rockets up into the sky, forbidding Grian from quipping back at him.

Grian shakes his head, lips crooked up in a fond smile. Shifting his focus, he double checks his inventory, making sure he has all the required materials accessible.

Pranktime! MUMBO! sillyjoelPRANK shhh…PRANK…sneakytime…shhh…mumbo time!

Grian stealthily makes his way into one of Mumbo’s bases, and begins to set up. He pulls out several dispensers, a stack of redstone dust, several repeaters, a hopper and a chest, before double-checking that Mumbo didn’t place any farms below his workspace.

It takes him several minutes to properly construct his glorious contraption–a simple line of dispensers fed by a hopper line and triggered by a perpetual clock–but he finally got it to work. He double checks all of the windows in the build are covered before adding the magic ingredient to his prank.

He fences in the area above the hoppers and starts throwing eggs. A chicken spawns and Grian grins. He repeats this several times.

Mumboprank! CHICKENS! poultyman?chicken?HE.RETURNS.look at all these chickens.MUMBOpoultry!

Once satisfied with his chicken extravaganza, Grian quickly backs out of the house and perches up to wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

Grian has to calm chat several more times and even manages to take a satisfying nap before his mustached friend finally comes around. Despite the many clucks that could be heard, Mumbo was somehow oblivious to the prank he was about to face.

Grian’s excitement swells as Mumbo walks up to the door. He’s giddy at the thought of chickens exploding out in many directions. Mumbo raises his hand…

Only to scratch his head and turn away.

Grian’s left shell-shocked.

Shaking off his stupor, he glides down to Mumbo, deciding to go for a more direct approach.

“Hi Mumbo!” Grian smiles in a hopefully genuine looking way. “I was just admiring some of your base! You’ve really outdone your previous bases this season!”

Mumbo flushes at the praise. “Thank you, Grian. You can only live next to builders so many seasons before you’re bound to pick up something.”

Grian smiles at his friend’s reaction. “Nah, you’ve just got genuine talent, mate. I mean look at those trees! You even used the tip I sold my soul for by using bark-wood blocks instead of logs in places.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Grian, mate.” Mumbo laughs, but seems to narrow his eyes slightly at Grian.

Uh Oh. “What? I can’t pay my best friend a compliment?” Grian responds, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“Nah mate.” Mumbo properly stares him down. “Come on, lead me to whatever prank you set up.”

“Who said I set it up?” The words leave Grian’s lips before he can realize what he just did.

“You just did.”

Panicking, Grian grabs his rockets. “I just remembered I forgot to.. Uh..water my pet fish. Bye Mumbo!” He races off into the sky before he can get a response back.

Ending 17: It’s the man in the chicken costume I swear!

Click here to start over!



“Even though I’d love to play a pranking third wheel between Etho and you,” Joel interrupts Grian with a cry of outrage. “I’ve got plans with one Mumbo Jumbolio that I can’t miss out on. Have fun with Etho!” Grian responds.

“Whatever, have fun hanging out with your stupid friends, I’m going to go hang out with someone who doesn’t abandon their friends. Too-da-loo!” Joel says, sarcasm covering the twinge of playful upset in his voice. He quickly races off into the sky, leaving Grian staring back up at the handcrafted trees.

“Um- Grian.” Mumbo breaks his thoughts. “I couldn’t help but overhear, Did we have plans that I’ve totally forgotten about? I thought I was doing better at putting things in my calendar.”

Grian giggles at Mumbo’s confusion. “No, your calendar is correct, I just wanted to spend some time with my favorite redstoner.”

“Oh!” Mumbo flushes at the praise. “Favorite redstoner?”

Grian smiles at the chance to further positively embarrass Mumbo. “Well if you don’t like that phrase, I could use supreme terraformer? This forest has so much detail.”

Mumbo turns two shades of red brighter. “No-uh…”

Grian continues talking to further his chance to be a friendly menace to Mumbo. “Or maybe Amazing Builder is a better description, I’ve heard that you’ve even been making concept art for each of your little buildings. I should be taking inspiration for my next build.”

Mumbo’s face is a brilliant scarlet, too stunned at the sheer amount of praise. If he was any brighter, Grian would be worried his mustached friend was going into anaphylactic shock. “T-That’s very kind of you, Grian.” Mumbo stumbles through his words. “D-did you have any plans for us?”

“Not really, I came to you for that. My goal was to hang out with you.” Grian responds. “Do you need any help?”

Mumbo pauses, unconsciously bringing his fist up to his chin in a stereotypical thinking pose. “Well I was planning on building a slime farm, I just completed a resource gathering trip,” Mumbo interrupts himself with a yawn.

Sleepy Mumbo! Get some rest! Make him sleep!
Grian does Redstone!! Help Mumbo!! REDSTONE!



“I’d love to help you with your slime farm.” Grian responds, “Where are you building it?”

Mumbo stares at him blankly.

“Mumbo?” Grian questions, walking over closer to his friend? “Did you lose the braincell? Hello?”

Mumbo casually reaches his left hand over to his right shoulder and visibly pinches himself.

“Mumbo Jumbo, is it that unbelievable that I want to help you with your redstone?” Grian complains, grabbing Mumbo’s hands to prevent another pinch.

“Yes.” Mumbo replies blankly. “Yes it is. Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Aww Mumbo!” Grian says playfully. “Does it help if I say I was already beginning to scheme how I could break the machine on you?”

“Actually yes,” Mumbo’s face gains more color. “And because of that fact, no! I want a working slime farm Grian!”

“I heard your season 9 slime farm would get similar rates to the one I could help you make.” Grian jokes, dropping Mumbo’s hands and twirling away from him.

Mumbo sighs, deflating slightly. “Alright, you can come help, but I’m putting you on strictly cobble placing duty.”

“You won’t regret this.”Grian cheers, “Well, actually you probably will in two hours.”

Mumbo groans. “I already am regretting it.”

One quick flight to a swamp and some squabbling later, Mumbo and Grian are together staring at a finished build, or as finished as you can be without actually testing the mechanics. Mumbo was stuck double-checking everything, his nerves getting the best of him.

“It looks correct.” Mumbo finally says, a hint of nervousness lingering in his voice. “All that’s left is to turn it on.”

“Where’s the lever!” Grian smirks, rubbing his hands together like a greedy imp.

“I-I don’t know about-” Mumbo starts.

Grian cuts Mumbo off. “Would you rather me turn on as many buttons as I can?”

“Well when you put it that way.” Mumbo says, motioning Grian to follow him. He leads Grian to the bottom of the farm, handing Grian an enchanted sword.

Grian is giddy with excitement, a named potato handy in his inventory, just waiting for the right deployment. The pair walk up to the death chamber for the slime, before Mumbo points out the button adjacent to the magma blocks. “Now with the press of that button, it will open up enough for you to use looting on slimes.”

With the press of the button, pistons move the blocks away from the killing chamber. Several blocks. Too many blocks.

Grian screams as the Giant slimes start hopping towards him. He flings his sword wildly, adrenaline racing through his veins.

He barely manages to cut through the slimes, as more and more flood the platform. Grian fumbles his way to the button, pressing it again, successfully predicting the chamber would close again. After several frantic slashes, all of the mobs are puddles at his feet.

Mumbo is stood at the back of the platform, cackling at his misfortune.

“Mumbo.” Grian smiles through gritted teeth, eyes twitching. “Run.”

Ending 15: Mumbo was slain by Grian.

Click here to start over!



“Mumbo, when was the last time you slept?” Grian asks, analyzing Mumbo’s face. While his friend’s victorian vampire completion typically made his under eyes fairly dark on the best of days, Mumbo’s eyebags were noticeably darker than normal.

“What day is it again?” Mumbo asks, attempting to pull out his communicator.

“That’s it!” Grian grabs Mumbos arm and begins marching him towards Grian’s own base. “Mandatory movie night starts now.”

“Grian, I always fall asleep during those.” Mumbo replies, stumbling his way into following Grian.

“Mumbo, that's the point!” Grian responds, slowing slightly down so Mumbo can get his own feet under his body. “Be glad I’m not siccing Bdubs on you.”

“Like he could reach me,” Mumbo mumbles, dragging his feet in front of him.

“Wow, you’re more tired than I thought if you’ve lost your filter.” Grian jokes. “Wanna speed up our journey by flying there?”

Mumbo nods, and the two quickly glide back to Grian’s base. Luckily Mumbo’s general spoonness doesn’t interfere, and before Grian knew it, the two hermits had transformed Grian’s base into the perfect movie night spot. It only took a bit of pestering for Mumbo to change into his own sleepwear–a pajama suit set complete with imitation of a red tie.

Grian had brought over two mugs of tea into the nest-like sleeping area, and nestled underneath a giant red quilt Ren had gifted him. Mumbo had done a great job of using the various spare wool bedding to pad the floor, layering downy comforters underneath a flat sheet to make a faux bed. Grian’s habit of hoarding pillows allowed Mumbo to cocoon the improvised sleeping setup in a fortress of softness.

“Thank you,” Mumbo whispers, carefully taking a sip of tea. Grian watches the tension and anxiousness melt away from his best friend’s shoulders.

A comfortable silence fills the room, as Grian quietly sets up the movie. He can tell Mumbo is mere centimeters from sleep, so he silently selects a nature documentary with a calm British narrator, and settles back into the soft blankets.

The sound of Mumbo’s snores are the perfect lullaby for Grian’s own eyes to grow heavy and heavier.

Ending 16: a comfortable afternoon

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Grian lifts off into the air, feeling the breeze drip down his skin as he banks the elytra up towards the massive lighthouse. From this height in the sky, his fishing dock looks doll sized.

He smoothly lands on top of Gem’s lighthouse, and gazes out to her base below. He spies Gem busy terraforming the riverbank with various greenery.

Scare her! She’s Distracted! Prank time!
Prank with Gem! Be chaos together!!
Leave Gem alone! She’s Busy! Bug someone else!!



Grian continues to fly overhead, waving to Gem as he passes. He focuses ahead, bending around the mountain, only to spy Impulse carrying a large amount of explosives up the mountain.

Never one to avoid playing with explosions, Grian swoops down next to his fellow Hermit. “Need any help?”

“Woah! Grian!” Impulse misplaces his next step, wobbling on his feet. Grian quickly braces his hands against Impulse, not wanting him to fumble the TNT. With the extra support, Impulse breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“A better thank you would be letting me explode things.” Grian jokes, earning a hearty laugh from Impulse.

“I was planning on excavating more of Magic Mountain.” Impulse explains. “Wasn’t sure If I wanted to surprise the others or make it a group project.”

Group event!!! MORE BOOMS!!
Let’s surprise some folks! Keep it Secret!



“Let’s call all of Magic Mountain.” Grian says, opening his communicator. “It will make the excavation go faster!

Impulse grins, “Send out the call then for me will ya? I’m going to go fly our supplies up to the top of the mountain.”

Grian: gem skizz scar mumbo joel

Grian: come blow up magic mountain

Keralis1: aww am I not invited for the boom booms

GoodTimeWithScar: im always down to blow

Keralis1: so forward Scar

GoodTimeWithScar: BLOWT HINGS UP

GoodTimeWithScar: TNT

GeminiTay: i dont know if i want to join Scar

Mumbo: who’s directing this

Mumbo: i don’t know if i trust Grian with the amount of TNT that requires 6 people


Grian: impulse is

Skizzleman: Count me in!!!!!

Smallishbeans: as long as grian’s not in charge

Grian: hey

Smallishbeans: you will make us lose all our gear

Skizzleman: I’m sure G’s not that bad with tnt.

Smallishbeans: he’ll make you eat those words, Skizz

GeminiTay: ill meet you over in 5

GeminiTay: gotta finish cleaning up

Grian places his com back in his pocket and marches up the hill. Impulse has made great use of the time, already laying out grid markers of where to place TNT. One by one, the other magic mountainers fly in, asking what they can do to help out. Impulse suggests various tasks: Joel and Gem get put to work adding a protective layer of stone above the hole, Skizz, Mumbo and Grian get assigned digging duty, Scar is assigned TNT deliverer and torch spammer. Scar is quickly taken off torch duty after a close call with a creeper nearly sets off the entire mountain with the everyone still inside.

An hour later, the TNT is planted, builds are protected and mobs are forbidden from spawning underneath said protection. “Great work everyone!” Impulse cheers. “All that’s left is to set it off!”

“OOO Can I do it?” Scar asks. “Please!!”

“Let me set it off!” Grian says at the same time.

Grian and Scar stop talking and look over at each other. Sizing each other up, they both begin to beg to set off the TNT.

“Gentlemen! Your both pretty, knock off the catfight!” Skizz interrupts, wrapping his arms around both arguing hermits and pulling them into a squished sidehug. “We can settle this rationally.”

“Here–Besides Scar and Grian, anyone else want to set off the explosion.” Impulse effortlessly continues Skizz’s train of thought.

Mumbo sheepishly raises his hand. Joel scoffs before speaking, “Well duh, its one of the coolest parts of working with TNT.”

Gem chimes in, “Guys, We all have flame bows, Let’s countdown and all ignite it at once.”

“Gosh, You’re so SMART Gemstone!” Skizz cheers. “We should always just listen to you.”

“Well someone has to be in charge of the Braincell.” Gem replies.

“I know well enough I don’t have it.” Grian says, stepping out from underneath Skizz’s frame. “Otherwise the mountain would be blown up higher than Cub’s giant firework.”

“Ooo!” Scar starts bouncing with his speech, clearly having a bright idea. “What if we put some colored dye in by the explosion? Or set off some fireworks with it! We could make the mountain look truly magical?”

“I like it, Scarface!” Skizz shouts, patting Scar on the back. “Does anyone have colorful dye?”

“Does glow squid ink count as a color?” Joel asks.

“Bop ‘n Go has plenty of green, and I’ve got enough bonemeal to make more red, yellow and pinks from the two-block high flowers.” Impulse adds.

“Well let’s partake in my favorite pastime of raiding Impulse’s chests for all his goodies!” Skizz whoops, charging down the mountain.

“Go tour Impulse’s storage system? Suddenly I feel like there is a bunch of lag on the server.” Grian says cheekily.

Impulse cuts his train of thoughts off immediately, “Grian I swear if I’m missing all my diamonds, I’ll–” Impulse pauses, trying to summon the words he needs. “I’ll– I don’t know what I’ll do, but it won’t be pretty!”

Grian just laughs, grabbing his rockets, and racing off to grab the powder. Impulse’s affronted sound chases after him.

Once the dye has been acquired and artistically placed with minimal arguments, the sun hangs low in the sky. A quick double check of flame bows, and the entire mountain is antsy to set off the TNT.

“Alright I want everyone to shoot on 3, no sooner, no later.” Skizz directs. “Reaady?!...1…2….3!”

The collective thwack of bowstring is swiftly followed by the telltale hiss of lit TNT. Grian steps backwards, attempting to avoid becoming a pile of xp orbs.

A wave of smoke rushes though air, as each blast sets off a chain reaction. The colored powder blazes in curls of smog, deep purples bleeding into a vibrant reddish orange. Ribbons of green woven against a yellow backdrop. The entire sky was dusted with color, painted by the collective teamwork of Magic mountain and Impulse’s storage room.

As the dust settles, Grian can hear the others celebrating the explosion–Mumbo’s hiccupping cheers, Gem’s adrenaline filled laughter, Scar’s witty comments being drowned out by Joel’s screams of delight. Impulse’s heartfelt excitement meshing with Skizz’s over-the-moon enthusiasm.

There’s no place Grian would rather be.

Ending 26: Maslov’s 3rd level’s got nothing on this

Click here to start over!



Before Grian can speak, an enthusiastic shout rings through the air. “What’s up Dippledop? Where you going with all that TNT homie buddy?”

“‘Sup Skizz!” Impulse greets. “Grian and I are headed to make progress on Magic Mountain. Wanna tag along?”

“You couldn’t pull me away if you tried.” Skizz responds, striding closer to both of them. “Hop two! Let’s go!”

The three hermits trudged up the mountain, making light conversation as they went. Grian was happy that Skizz decided to join them–for all that the other hermit’s joked that Skizz functioned as Impulse’s impulse control, Grian knew that he actually did the opposite. Many times of tagging along to ZITS shenanigans clearly proved that Skizz encouraged Impulse’s more unhinged ideas.

“Alright Dop! How do you want us?” Skizz pulls out his shovel. “I’m no TNT master, but I want to see the biggest boom this side of the Hermississippi! Make it explode stronger than my bathroom after I eat too much cheap mexican fast food.”

Impulse softly chuckles, “That’s a hard standard to beat, Skizz. I don’t know if I can live up to your expectations.”

“Oh ‘Pulse I have full faith in you,” Skizz says, genuineness leaking over his humorous tone. “If anyone can pull off this mega-’splosion in such a tight area it’s you.”

Impulse stares back at Skizz. “I feel like you’re trying to set up a ‘that’s what she said’ joke in the midst of all that butt-kissing.”

“Some things just come naturally.” Skizz playfully shrugs. “You can’t deny me from my nature.”

“Skizz is right though.” Grian chimes in, trying to prevent an endless string of innuendoes. “You were arguably the star of the Boomers back in season 7.”

“See you have no excuse, G-sharp’s even saying you’ve got talent.” Skizz picks up a stack of TNT. “Now point me where to place it.”

“Alright,” Impulse takes a second to properly survey the land. “Let’s focus on digging boreholes down over here away from the cave system.”

The three of them make quick work of digging boreholes of TNT, making sure to leave a five block gap between all of their tunnels. Several stacks of stone and an entire shulker of TNT later, a sizable chunk of the mountain was primed to explode.

“I’m a little worried that we placed too much TNT,” Impulse hums, looking over the top of the dig site.

Skizz takes second to look at Impulse, evaluating his thoughts in the silent mind-reading only long term best friends could do. “If it’d make you feel better, we could put up a wall, but honestly I trust your initial judgment.”

“You’re a Boomer Impulse.” Grian starts.

“Gee Thanks.” Impulse interrupts sarcastically.

“You’re Welcome.” Grian taunts back before continuing his thoughts. “You’re a TNT expert, and besides, we can always fix things later. And if we absolutely need it, Skizz can represent us in court if we truly blow up literally everything.”

“Not really inspiring all that much confidence in me, G.” Impulse says.

“Well, let’s just rip the plaster off then, hmm?” Grian pulls out his trusty flame bow and quickly fires, lighting the first TNT.

Impulse’s worried words are quickly drowned out by layers and layers of TNT exploding.

When the smoke finally clears, the mountain is thouroughly destroyed, the beacons deactivated from missing iron blocks, and several mobs are dropping to their deaths from exposed side caves.

Voices from his neighbors chase after the rising smoke.

“What in the blummin’ heck was that! MY SHRINE!!”

“My beautiful skull’s destroyed! GRIAN!!”

Impulse is looking at him with as much of a murderous glare as that man can muster.

Uh oh. Time to run.

Ending 19: Impulse control backfires

Click here to start over!


Snail Time

Grian glides down to Gem’s working area, landing just behind the moss block she’s in the middle of placing down. Before he can even ask her what she’s doing, Gem has jumped up to an action stance dropping the moss in favor of instinctively pulling out her sword.

“GRIAN!” Gem playfully yells, sheathing her weapon before reaching out to physically shake her fellow hermit. “My void, a warning next time! I’m going to have to tie a bell on you otherwise.”

“Hello Gem.” Grian smiles, stepping slightly away to break Gem’s grip on his shoulders. “What doin?”

“Just some minor terraforming, trying to incorporate a more ominous feel.” Gem takes a second to fix the moss patch she was working on previously. “What are you up to?”

“Not much, just seeing what others are doing.” Grian pauses, making sure he still had Gem’s attention. “Or seeking out some more mollusk shenanigans.”

“Hmmm.” Gem stops modifying the ground. “I think I’m ready for a break. Who’s our target this time?”

Moss man! Sleep master extraordinaire! Short guy!
Make the snails eat redstone! REDSTONE!
Prank the master prankster of the server. Start a war!



“Let’s prank Bdubs!” Grian suggests, reaching down to help Gem put away the excess moss.

“Bdubs, huh?” Gem questions, looking over at Grian. “Kind of surprised at that answer.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Grian responds back.

“Well, I was expecting you to shout Mumbo, since you two are practically each other’s chew toys, or maybe Scar to further the pranks we had been doing. Maybe someone like Joel or Impulse if you were feeling like stretching your comfort zone.” Gem rattles off, placing the last of her materials into her shulker. “Bdubs was an answer out of left field, but I like it. The man has such overdramatic reactions that make everything hilarious.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Grian interrupts, brain finally catching up to Gem’s words, “What do you mean Mumbo’s my chew toy? Or that I’m his?”

“You both love messing with each other like a dog loves to put their favorite chew toy in its mouth, and wrestle and chew it around for hours on end, never getting bored with each other, and no other toy could ever replace the bond you have. I’d say the only difference is you don’t spread bodily fluids on each other, but rumors say you both have warts to give the server, so I no longer know how accurate that is.”

“GEM!” Grian exclaims, punching her directly in the meat of her shoulder.

“You asked! You can’t be mad at me for explaining!” Gem responds. “Now Bdubs. He just finished his new courthouse, yes?”

“Yes.” Grian replies, thinking back to the shopping districts newest grand project.

“Let’s set up a snail court! A snourt if you will!” Gem replies, excited.

“Great idea, but what are they settling in snourt? Sn-operty disputes? Snail action lawsuits? Snivorce?” Grian responds, laughing.

Gem giggles, continuing the bit, “Your Snonor, My snlient, Sheldon wishes for you to grant him a restraining snorder from his ex-snusband, Gary.”

Grian cackles, eyes watering. “Aah, Yes, Snivorces are common occurrence in Snourt. Let’s do it.”

Once both are composed enough to not crash, they fly to Bdub’s courthouse and begin setting a snail court, complete with snlawyers, a snudge and a snury of the sneople. Once satisfied with their work, they wait to hear from an outraged mossman in the chat.

BdoubleO100: why are there snails in my court room

BdoubleO100: anyone want es cargo?

ZombieCleo: It’s escargot

BdoubleO100: whats scar got that has to do with this? does he want the snails?

GoodTimeWithScar: I will mu rder them

Grian: bdubs don’t interrupt their snivorce!

Grian: gary’s lawyer is cross-examining his ex-snusband’s secret lover shelly

GeminiTay: shes’s just revealed another lover! the snourtroom drama is hot!

BdoubleO100: wat

GeminiTay: she’s snegrent

GeminiTay: with flash’s kid



Grian: gary and flash have two snaibies


GeminiTay: Gary’s devastated.

BdoubleO100:...should I question why the two male snails have babies together?

Grian: most snails are unisex

GeminiTay: pronouns are even more of a social construct than usual

GeminiTay: snails are proud members of the lgbt community

ZombieCleo: way to go snails

Grian: !!

Grian: flash got up to attack gary!

GeminiTay: he landed one good punch before getting taken back by snecurity

BdoubleO100: im going to go lay down…

BdoubleO100: i cant believe I have to fight snails for my own courtroom

Grian: don’t disrespect Snudge Shelby!

Ending 12: Hear! Hear! Order in the Snourt!

Click here to start over!



“I think the snails are hungry for some redstone.” Grian replies.

“As much as I would like to let them loose on Etho, if they damage the frogger redstone, I don’t know if I can handle the ensuing week long wet cat moping.” Gem snarks, picking up her shulker box filled with terraforming blocks. “What if we had them explore the Redstone shop? Tango’s got a few machines that are mostly harmless, and they could surprise shoppers!”

“Gem, that’s brilliant!” Grian exclaims. “Let’s go over there now!”

Grian and Gem found it very easy to introduce their mollusk friends to Two Tek Delay, especially since Tango’s example contraptions were supremely entertaining for them. Some were even crawling up the walls.

The two of them found a spot to observe the shop, and waited for Tango to discover their prank. Luckily Gem had the foresight to install one of Doc’s camera bugs, so the two of them could see inside.

Luckily the two didn’t have to wait very long.

Nearly flying directly into the walls of his own shop, Tango lands with a roll at the entrance to his shop. Gem and Grian had prepared slime trails of glowing lichen traipsing up to the doors to hopefully indicate to Tango that something fishy may be happening, but Tango obliviously walks into his shop.

The two pranksters could clearly hear Tango’s happy squeals from outside the shop. “Awe look at all you cuties! How’d you get in my Redstone shop?”

Grian watched, as several snails slithered towards Tango, derpy eyes focused on the redstoner. One began chewing on his leg with its spiny tongue.

“Adorable.” Tango babytalks, eyes widening comically at the mollusks below. “You are all mine now. Infinite supply of redstone and hermit flesh in your constructed paradise. Just please don’t break any of my skadoodlers too permanently.”

Ending 11: Decked out 3: Now featuring snail obstacles that will totally murder your face

Click here to start over!



“Gem, let's prank Hermitcraft’s ultimate prankster.” Grian grins, starting to walk back with Gem to her storage system.

“Grian, I am not touching Doc’s items with a ten foot pole.” Gem sighs. “I saw what happened last season and as much as I could easily slaughter him ten times in a row, I don’t want my house to turn into a lag machine or a giant crater.” Gem flicks open the doors to her base, and marches down the steps.

“No, Doc’s more of a retaliatory guy, not a prankster. Actually fairly noble that way.” Grian follows closely behind, smirking at the sight of a few unorganized shulkers sitting in the middle of the room. “No, I mean the prankster that goes the farthest, almost never gets caught unless he tells you his schemes.”

“Stop snooping in my chests!” Gem reprimands, flicking Grian’s arm. “It’s clearly not you, who’s this mysterious prankster? Jevin? His smiley face prank on Scar was impressive, but I wouldn’t say he’s sneaky.”

“Gem, who messed with the Empires server so badly that Shubble almost swore in front of people?” Grian prompts, smirking.

“Oooooo,” Gem exclaims, eyes full of fire. “Let’s get him.”

It took the entire morning to properly plan their scheme, but Grian and Gem’s vengeful motivation made the time move much quicker. An army of snails, several collected dyes and flowers, a stack of dispensers, sugar cane, gunpowder and a box of various redstone materials that the two had pilfered from Impulse were categorically lined up in Gem’s storage room.

“Are you ready Gem?” Grian says, double checking the shulkers one last time.

“You bet!”

The two hermits collect the shulker boxes, before flying over to Cub’s base.

“Should we have grabbed invis for this?” Gem asks, landing down on Cub’s skulk covered landscape.

“Too late now.” Grian replies, placing the shulkers down. “Let’s just work quickly.”

Both hermits began to truly focus, Grian focusing on the snails and dispenser set up, while Gem handled the firework crafting and priming into the dispensers.

Nearly an hour later, covered in powdered color and slime mucus, the two had fully finished their prank. And just in time, since Cub arrives back to his own base just as the two are beginning to clean off. Gem just manages to pull them both to a hiding spot.

Cub touches down on his lawn of pulsating blue and freezes. He glances over his base skeptically before breaking into a grin. “Hello, colleagues!”

To the pranksters surprise, a snail begins to gurgle back at Cub with animated expressions. ,,¡ʇuǝɯǝsnɯɐ ɹnoʎ ɹoɟ ʎlssǝlǝɹᴉʇ pǝʞɹoʍ pɐǝɹqpǝllǝdssᴉW puɐ lɐɹǝuᴉWsnoᴉɔǝɹԀ sǝʇɐᴉɔoss∀ ˙ɹɐǝqƃuno⅄ ʎɹɐʇǝɹɔǝS 'ʇsǝɾ ɐ s,ʇI,,

Cub seems to understand whatever was just communicated, as he questions the snails. “I’m not going to lose my stuff by triggering this am I?”

The same snail churrs back, ,,˙sʇsǝnƃ ǝʌɐɥ ǝM ˙uo ǝnuᴉʇuoɔ puɐ uoᴉssᴉɯ uʍo ɹnoʎ ɹǝqɯǝɯǝɹ ʍoN ˙ɐpodoɹʇsɐƃ snᴉlɐ ǝɥʇ ɯɹɐɥ oʇ ɹǝpɹo ǝuᴉʌᴉp uʍo ɹno ʇsuᴉɐƃɐ sǝoƃ ʇᴉ sǝpᴉsǝq ¡ʎɹɐʇǝɹɔǝS 'ǝsuǝsuoN,,

Cub seems to nod back, before purposely walking forward into the massive string network the two builders had set up.

Several fireworks begin to fire off, setting the mostly blue landscape into a world of color. Gem had even managed to rig several dispensers to rain colored powder directly, allowing for the prank to leave more of an impact.

Once the dispensers ran low, Gem and Grian emerged from the pigmented dust to possibly spook Cub. “Surprise!” “Boo!” The two shout, having used the brightly colored fog to their advantage.

“Surprise indeed!” Cub responds. “Thank you for the wonderful show and for hopefully supporting CuBoom fireworks!”

“You're welcome,” Gem smiles. “Though we were concerned you weren’t going to fall for it. You seemed to be talking to the snails first.”

“Ahh Well.” Cub replies, scratching the back of his neck, “You never know how connected one can be with nature!” Cub quickly continues, “Now I’ll make sure to repay the both of you with equally epic pranks!”

Ending 13: ¿ʇɥƃᴉɹ ʇǝɹɔǝs ɐ dǝǝʞ uɐɔ noʎ

Click here to start over!



Grian pauses, taking a second to properly observe his target. Gem seems to be standing in one specific spot, working on some sort of armor stand piece. Eyeing up the several stacks of logs in his inventory, Grian has a brilliant idea.

He swiftly builds out from the lighthouse with dirt scaffolding blocks until he is directly above his target. Grian pillars up higher into the sky above this point, trying to prevent Gem from hearing the sounds of his scheme.

Working quickly, Grian sets up a hopper that funnels into a dispenser pointed at a scaffolding landing block. He then places a crafting bench up above, so he can speed craft items directly into the hopper.

He pulls the first stack of logs out, crafting them into planks, before nimbly using said planks to craft several boats. He repeats this process again and again, hands flying so fast Grian’s genuinely surprised by the lack of splinters.

He finishes through five full stacks of logs in little time, dispenser rapid clicking to place the four stacks of boats on top of one another. He glides down to the lower dirt scaffolding, making sure Gem hadn’t wildly moved and that the drop area was clear. The aforementioned prankee is engrossed in her work, currently focused on orientating a miniature glazed terracotta above the boulder-like pillar.

Grian rockets back up to his boat bomb, and hurriedly breaks the block underneath the boat extravaganza, letting the 256 boats float down as if they were a single entity. Grian twirls mid-air as he dives down to watch his own chaos unfold. The boat stack gracefully falls like a feather from a particularly mischievous bird.

He only breaks his gaze for a second to land on a nearby tree top, but in that miniscule amount of time the boats completed their descent.

“Wha-” Gem comes out of her building trance as the entity-bugged watercraft lands perfectly atop her head, causing her to drop the statue tools she was using. She carefully glances up and without even making eye contact with him she yells. “GRIAN!”

He can’t help but break out laughing. “Someone order a ship-ment?”

“Why have you dropped a boat on me!” Gem shouts. She reaches up to move the boats, only to disturb their very careful alignment, causing each of the 256 boats to fling themselves wildly in different directions.

Grian cackles louder, as Gem’s shocked silence makes the whole prank that much better. Gem lets out a deep sigh that oozed annoyance before addressing Grian.

“Grian, why have you dropped in here and chose violence today?” Gem pulls out her sword and begins to break apart the hoard of boats.

“You mean I barged in here?”

“THAT’S IT!” Gem shouts, confidently branding her sword. “Get over here you gremlin!”

Ending 14: Grian experienced kinetic energy whilst trying to escape GeminiTay

Click here to start over!



“I haven’t quite utilized the mail system all that much.” Grian hums aloud, thinking about the several Mumbo stamps he could write messages on.

Grian glides down to his mailbox, and shuffles through his inventory to find his stationary.

Advertise your shops! Everyone wants red sand!!
Spam the mail system! Make everyone confused!
Confess your undying love to another hermit!!! Put yourself out there!



“I could send out an advertisem*nt.” Grian says, glancing at the mail sitting in his mailbox. “I mean it couldn’t hurt to send out some promotion.”

Grian rustled through his inventory, taking a second to find the perfect stationary– something that truly screamed, ‘Graphic design is my passion.’ He pulls out a monstrosity of cardstock.

“I’ll start advertising our shared shop, so Mumbo can’t complain that I haven't contributed.” Grian says, excitedly. He pulls out a pen and begins to write the advertisem*nts.

Coming soon! Spreading Warts to a Server near you! Stop by and receive your very own quality warts, ethically sourced from local nether regions! Grian and Mumbo are happy to provide some of their own special warts free! Warning: symptoms for obtaining warts may include itchiness, redness or general soreness, please refrain from contact with wart blocks for long periods of time. If symptoms persist please seek Doc to talk about your warts.

“Now where did I put my stamps?” Grian questions, rummaging through his chest monster in order to find the stamps. After only a minute of frustration, Grian manages to find them hidden amongst other postbox materials. He carefully put several stamps into the dropper, before setting up identical packages.

“I should make sure to wait a bit between packages, I don’t want to break Etho and Tango’s hard work.” Grian remarks sending out the first advert.


“Chat you are such a bad influence.” Grian chastises, loading up the next package but specifically waiting several seconds to send out the next package.

Over the next few minutes Grian repeats the same cycle of loading packages into the mail system, only stopping to reprimand chat twice.

“Alright.” Grian dusts off his hands. “What to do next?”

Go Left! Head towards the lighthouse!
Go Right! Head towards the train!
Fishing time!!! Grab your pole!!




“It would be a prank on Pearl to flood the mail system with messages…” Grian trails off, seriously considering the idea. “I would have to buy more stamps, so she’d be profiting from the prank too, so how bad could it really be?”


“Chat, I’m blaming you for enabling me.” Grian sighs, digging through his inventory system.

Grian starts fairly innocently, sending a single diamond ore that he the snails had pilfered to Scar without a note. He gets a big grin imagining Scar’s future outrage when opening the package.

Spying some bamboo planks, he separates 12 individual planks out to send to a certain swede sans note. He proceeds to send a Mumbo stamp to Mumbo, along with some redstone dust and chicken feathers.

Grian is mid-digging through his chest monster for various spam items when he finds several sheets of writing paper and a pen. He begins writing messages en masse.

‘Please ignore your problems, I’m sure they’ll go away on their own.’

If you or a loved one have been diagnosed with diorite-phobia you may be entitled to financial compensation’

‘Have a lovely waxed cut copper slab Thursday.’

‘‘You have eyes that stare into my soul.’

‘YOU HAVE BEEN PRANKED! You have 24 hours to send this to 2 other friends to TOTALLY PRANK THEM or the large mollusks will raid your starter base.”

‘Hello, We’ve been trying to reach you about your Horse’s Extended Warranty™’

Speed sending the notes, Grian spies the perfect thing to send in the postal system next. Sitting pristinely in the bottom of the shulker is a baked potato.

Grian picks up the spud, face breaking into a bigger grin. Quickly cleaning out the dispenser of any stamps, he gifts the potato into the redstone innerworkings without a tic of hesitation.

“GRIAN!” He hears his own name shrieked from across the mountain, rapidly traveling towards him. A flash of long brown hair and green overalls dives quickly over the landscape before coming face to face with him. “WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING MATE!”

“Heeyy Pearl,” Grian says, slinking his body to stand in front of the incriminating shulkers laid out behind him. “How can I help you…”

“Grian, I see the shulkers your trying to hide,” Pearl speaks, eyes narrowing down closer to his face. “Why are you messing with the postal system?”

“Me? Messing with the Post Office?” Grian tries to lie. “No you have the wrong hermit! I’m clearly trying to announce that uhh…” Grian trails off trying to come up with a quick excuse. “I’m pregnant?”

The fury flaming in Pearl’s eyes dulls. “You’re pregnant?” she questions.

“Yeah.” Grian flushes red, trying to add onto the lie. “I’ve been having terrible morning sickness lately, couldn’t sleep properly. This morning I had a prophetic dream where the ocean gods told me I was pregnant. I ended up taking a test and here I am.”

“Oh G!” Pearl rushes forward to embrace him. “How are you feeling about the news?”

Grian internally winces at the prospect of burying himself deeper in the lie, but he’s committed to it. He quickly decides that he can’t play further with Pearl’s heart. “A bit nervous, but I’m excited. I have all of you hermits supporting me.”

“Ohh I’m so excited to be an Auntie!!” Pearl cheers, wrapping Grian in a tighter hug. “Please let me help plan the baby shower!”

Grian’s eyes spark at the idea of receiving free items. He just hopes Pearl doesn’t unwind his web of lies before he can get them.

Ending 18: Congratulations: It’s a Prank!

Click here to start over!



“Why am I surprised that this is what you guys come up with.” Grian groans, putting his hand on his face and lightly pulling down his skin in dismay.


“I shouldn’t even be entertaining this idea.” Grian says muffled by his hands. “Nope. Try again. I will go to sleep if you make stupid choices.”

Advertise your shops! Everyone wants red sand!!
Spam the mail system! Make everyone confused!


Go to Sleep

Grian pauses, eyes blinking slowly. He reaches his hands down into his pockets, shuffling around a bit, before pulling a full sized bed, complete with duvet and a wooden headboard from thin air. He lets the bed fall to the ground with a heavy thunk.

Amidst the magic of the appearing bed, Grian’s magically transformed his clothes to blue and white striped pajamas. With extreme speed, Grian hops down into the mattress, almost as if he’s teleported.

His body stays still on the bed for several minutes.Chat watches as patiently as a collective consciousness is able to, waiting for something eventful to happen.

The world stays as still as a living world can be–no interesting sounds or new feelings. Grian’s still body is ignorant to chat’s plight.

The audience grows restless as a persistent nothingness continues, repeating endlessly. The world becomes hazy, as if time has tucked each viewer in with a well-worn bedsheet.

Maybe it was a bad idea trying to bet against a stubborn hermit.

Ending 0. You’ve misread the assignment. Wake up?

Click here to start over!



“For once you actually made a decent choice.” Grian says, a hint of surprise evident in his voice. “The vast expanse of the sea calls.”

Grian marches outside, feeling the salty breeze brush against his face. He admires Gems Lighthouse in the distance, beckoning in travelers from afar.

“What do you think, is today the day?” Grian looks up to the sky, seemingly trying to make eye contact with the audience. “Will the minecraft gods bless me with the book I long for?”


“I don’t know what I was expecting for a response.” Grian sighs. He turns back to the path in front of him heading towards the docks. He takes a second to admire the shoreline, how the water laps at the banks like a soft metronome.

Grab your Pole! Remember the tool, Mending calls!
Fish cult! Manifest your treasure! SECRET TUNNEL!!


Grab Rod

“You think I would really forget a fishing pole going fishing?” Grian scoffs. “I’m always ready to fish! You think I’d be caught dead without my trusty fishing rod?”

A rumble of voices vibrate back at Grian.

“Yeah, yeah Chat, be mad. Watch me pull Mending first try.”


With an air of confidence, Grian quickly flicks the fishing rod out towards the expanse.

Sabotage the wind! Sway the lure backwards!
Bless the cast! Let the lure sail into the Murky Deep!


Catch a Hermit

The lure sails backwards, opposite of where Grian was facing.

“Oh Brian? While I appreciate you trying to catch me, you don’t has to use your hook to do so. It leaves holes on my purdy clothes.” Keralis jokes, picking at where the hook had caught his Hawaiian shirt.

“Sorry Keralis, I wasn’t trying to grab you.” Grian sets his pole gently down, before stepping closer to the other hermit to help untangle the hook.

“Well you really should be trying to grab me,” Keralis giggles, “I haven't been on lately to share with all my fellow hermits. Need to make up for lost time. What is Brian up to on this beautiful breezy day?”

Grian successfully frees the hook from Keralis, and attaches the hook back to the fishing rod. “Trying my best to fish up a mending book while ignoring my many things I actually should be doing right now. What are you doing?”

“Ah, I was just exploring the server, trying to get some more tips and inspiration. Every hermit makes such beautiful creations and wandering abouts lets me also see some of your beautiful faces.” Keralis pulls out two smoothies from his inventory, using the mini umbrellas to stir the beverage. “Piña colada?”

Grian takes the offered beverage, swirling it with the straw before taking a drink. He immediately starts coughing.

“Whoopsie, she does kick a bit,” Keralis pats Grian’s back. “I hasn’t quite gotten all of the distillery set up this early in the season, so she’s strong.”

Grian takes a deep breath and pulls himself together. “Ooof, I felt like that hooked my insides.”

Keralis lets out a hearty laugh. “I guess we’re even then, Brian.” Keralis takes another sip of his drink, and lets out a satisfied sound. “I best let your beautiful face gets back to the fishing. Come around later this season and I’ll mix you something that doesn’t catch your insides hmm?”

“I hold you to that.” Grian smiles, and picks his pole back up. “Enjoy your tour, Keralis.”

“I will Sweetface! Good lucks!” Keralis waves to Grian before heading back to the rest of Magical Mountain.

Grian turns back to the ocean, determined to face her once again. He carefully unhooks his pole and makes sure the rod isn’t damaged, before casting his lure out into the deep.

Luckily this time the wind seems to be on his side, as the hook sails easily through the air, landing with a satisfying plop.

After a few tics, Grian feels something heavy grab his line. He reels his pole up excitedly, his hopes of getting the precious mending book raising.

He pulls in with all his might, feeling the massive catch drag through the water. Grian heaves his line up expecting a book, but is puzzled to see a dripping hermit stuck on his line.

“Oh Hello Grian!” Iskall beams at him, making no motion to unhook himself from the line. “Fancy meeting you here! I was just searching the ocean floor for deez.”

“Deez?” Grian questions, mind too occupied to think through what he’d just done.

Iskall breaks into a wide grin.

Ending 1: Hook, Line, & Sinker

Click here to start over!



The lure plunges into the deep water, with a satisfying ‘plop’. The waves swirl friendly around the bobber, and the morning sun bounces soft light off the surface of the water.

Grian takes a calm breath, letting the smell of salty air stay entrapped in his lungs. He shuts off his thoughts, letting the breeze and the rhythmic motion of his bobber take all of his attention.

It’s times like this where Grian feels at one with the ocean, as if in another reality the atoms in his body could have been atoms amidst the water. That the ocean waves to reach out to him, whispering soft hellos.

A tug on his pole brings Grian out of his thoughts. He waits a tick on the off chance he nabbed a fish, before reeling up hard to set the hook within his catch.

Grian feels the drag on the line as he reels but no distinct pulling away from him, and he feels his hopes rise at the chance of a book. The spool of his pole clicks with every turn, seemingly getting louder at the same rate that the background voices do, excited at the catch.

A boxy silhouette moves closer to Grian, glinting faintly through the murky water. Grian reels faster, eager for his catch.

The water dripping off the damp pages glows from the enchantment swirling around the book. Grian can hear the audience’s frenzied voices, both cheering him on and wishing for the minecraft gods to be trolling him.

Grian pauses, watching the line swing in the breeze, before skillfully unhooking the book. The weight of the tome in his arms corresponds with the sinking nervousness in his chest. “I almost don’t want to look at it.”


Grian wipes the mud-stained cover, carefully revealing the title.

The golden letters ‘feather falling II’ peer backup at him.

Unlucky! Cast Deeper! Dig for your treasure again!
Some master fisher you are! Cast shallow!
Purify yourself! Pray to the Mending Gods so they may bless you.


Give Up

Hover or Click to show TW: Hallucination, Implied Drowning

Grian pauses.

Suddenly the voices that have been leading him down this journey feel quieter.

No, it’s not that they feel quieter–it’s that the silence around him is loud…

He steps forward and plunges into the water.

One would expect the morning water to shiver their bones, but Grian doesn’t feel the chill. He feels like he’s melting into the sea.

The weight of his body pulls him to the murky sea floor, allowing his legs to be caressed by kelp.

Sediment in the water makes it hard to see, but staring up at the surface he swears he sees a translucent figure above him.

They’re swaying with the water, in a way that’s so perfect that it seems unnatural.

He swims closer to the figure, longing to see more, and even as he gets closer the figure stays just as blurry as before. The air in his lungs has long turned sour, but he keeps his mouth closed. The deep water around him feels like a hug.

Grian reaches up to the figure. The second he makes contact, he feels an aura of electricity blanket him, and his senses go blank.

Suddenly he sees atoms. The protons and neutrons hugging, like old friends, the electrons zooming around them like a dutiful shield.

They are clustered together in patterns, some allowing their electrons to be borrowed to protect their friends. Some are clinging to each other like stuck velcro.

He’s slowly moving away from the atoms, shrinking away from his sight. He sees them clump together, less space between each atom as he goes farther away.

They start to look like puzzle pieces, slotting into each other to make something bigger than what was once there.


They’re molecules.

And the molecules build upon themselves, building their own sets of instructions, workers to enact those instructions, material to protect themselves from the outside world and a fuel source to power it.

The workers keep making more complex workers, building full factories to be more productive. They build protection for their instructions, and make copies when they need to use them.

They’ve made a neighborhood of molecules.

He keeps backing up and he sees more neighborhoods of molecules. Clustered together, sometimes even sharing resources with each other.

And sometimes the neighborhoods look vastly different from one another. Planned out and built uniquely. Sometimes they’re identical.

But they repeat over and over until Grian’s backed up far enough where they look like outlined dots.

And slowly the lined neighborhoods turn into lined fibers. Stacked near each other, moving as one. Stretching and shrinking in tandem. ba-bump….. ba-bump…….. ba-bump…..

He backs up farther to see the lines are muscles of a heart.

Beating steadily. Over and Over.

And it’s connected to a network of veins, nestled between lungs and shielded by strong bone.

He keeps backing up through bone, through skin. He sees a body–distinctly human.

He looks up at the face to see his own black eyes staring back up at him.

All of a sudden he’s speeding up as his vision widens, things zooming out of focus. He barely sees his own body seem like a miniature doll floating on the water before he can’t even see the specific body of water he’s in.

He flies past biomes, past earth, moon, asteroids, rings of planets, the sun, some crystalized ice web that engulfed the galaxy up until that point…more stars and stardust

He sees more stars….maybe they’re galaxies at this point…

Grian blinks and sees the web of the universe.

It looks like atoms and molecules.

He takes a breath.

And he breathes out stardust.

Ending 2. the universe said i love you because you are loved. Inspiration for this ending

Click here to start over!


Deep Cast

He takes a second to readjust himself to face the depths of the pond before Grian flicks his lure skillfully into the deep.

He steels himself from listening to the rumbling of the audience solely focused on his catch. It’s just him and the ocean, playing a game of patience.

And boy, was he destined to win.

Grian focuses on the bobber, going up and down and up and down and up and down and up and

it plunges into the depths. Caught.

Grian reels back the catch, careful not to break his focus.

A tangled rod is caught in his lure. Grian skillfully untangles his pole, setting the new pole next to his many other broken poles the sea has gifted him.

More Treasure! Mending in the Depths!
Some master fisher you are! Cast shallow!


Shallow Cast

“Okay, We’ll play it your way, but I’m not expecting much.” Grian says patronizingly.

He flicks his pole into the shallow banks of the water.

A few moments go by, before Grian watches a cod swim up to the lure and almost magically hooks itself to the pole.

“See? All I got was a fish!”

More Treasure! Mending in the Depths!
That proves nothing! Again!


Shallow Cast II

Grian sighs at the audience's incompetencies.

With a roll of his eyes, he casts against the banks, only to get his lure snagged on a lily pad. With a mighty yank, Grian pulls back the weed to shore.

More Treasure! Mending in the Depths!
Haha Can’t Cast Right! Some Fisherman you are!! Can’t do shallow!


Deep Cast II

Grian flicks his lure into the deep blue.

He’s at peace with the ocean air, comforted by the waves knocking gentle against the bank.

It could have been 5 ticks or 500, Grian couldn’t tell you, but suddenly the bobber dips below the surface.

He sets the hook and quickly reels up his catch.

A salmon wriggles on the line, hook set firmly in its mouth. With only a little difficulty, Grian unhooks the fish before putting it aside. It will make a fantastic dinner later.

You’ll be successful soon! Mending in the Depths! Cast again!
Some master fisher you are! Cast shallow!


Shallow Cast III

“You are all wrong about the shallows, you can’t get books there!” Grian sasses back to the audience, as he flicks his lure into the shallow banks. “I’d be more successful getting mending by fishing with a bucket than doing it this way.”

As if the game was taunting the audience a salmon leaps out of the water, catching his hook before it had time to sink to the bottom.

Mending in the Depths! Cast again!
Still a loser! Can’t Cast! Shallow has Mending you see!


Deep Cast III

Grian recasts the line, allowing it to sink into the depths before letting out a breath. The ocean responds in kind, a deeper breeze brushing against Grian’s face.

He waits patiently, watching the sea.

It’s not long before he feels the hopeful weight of possible treasure on his line again.

His excitement builds as he sees a book on his line, quickly reeling up his catch.

The enchantment glow almost buzzes in his hands, as he unhooks the pages from his line.

Grian brushes off the cover only to have his excitement sharply fall. Depth Strider I gleams back up at him.

It’s okay, You’ll get it next time! Cast into the Deep!
What a loser! Can’t Cast! Shallow has Mending you see!


Shallow Cast IV

“You know what no. I’m not going to cast it shallow. Cause I know for a fact that won’t work and YOU IDIOTS WANT TO SEE ME SUFFER.” Grian yells in a frenetic way, pacing up to his shulker box monstrosity. He hurriedly sifts through boxes, clawing through the items and haphazardly stuffing them back into the shulkers.

“I swear if I can’t find the iron I will send the next person I see into a death loop!” Grian shrieks as he opens his ninth box.

He opens boxes ten and eleven seething, before finding his stash of iron. Grian plops down a crafting table and quickly assembles a bucket, before marching back to the pier.

“We’re doing shallow my way.” Grian sets his fishing rod down onto the pier, before leaping off into the water.

He drops into the water with a magnificent splash, dousing the dock completely. The water only comes up to Grian’s waist, so he has to awkwardly crouch into the water to fully swim.

He makes eye contact with a fish, before sprinting after it, arms cutting through the water with all of his strength. He pulls out his bucket and strikes.

Grian has made the achievement [tactical fishing]

“You know what, I’ll even scour the shallow ocean floor for mending!” Grian exclaims, dumping his fish back into the ocean.

He moves to dive down into the water, but something snags on the back of his red jumper.

Before Grian can even process what is happening, he is yanked up into the sky with a scream.

Instead of falling to the ground, strong arms wrap around his flailing body. “Oh sorry Grian, I didn’t mean to catch you there.” Impulse apologizes, gently setting him to the ground.

Grian throws his limbs out on the ground behind him, fully starfishing. He stares up at a concerned Impulse. “I wasn’t expecting you to be fishing. I thought you were busy?”

“Well I needed a bit of a break, and I saw you fishing, so I thought you might like company.” Impulse smiled gently down at Grian. “You doing okay? I heard quite a bit of yelling as I was making my way over.”

Grian takes a deep breath. Maybe he was getting a bit too upset about something so small. “I think I’ll be alright, but I wouldn’t mind having company for a bit.”

“Can do! Let’s fish!” Impulse cheers, helping Grian to his feet.

The two head onto the dock, casting into the deep.

Almost immediately, Impulse gets his hook caught on something. He reels it up to the surface to find a book hanging off his line.

“Impulse, I swear if that’s a mending book.” Grian growls.

Impulse carefully unhooks the book, wipes the mud away, before going suspiciously still. “Well…It also has Thorns II”


ImpulseSV was slain by Grian using [Rodney]

Ending 35. Wrath of the Shallow

Click here to start over!


Deep Cast IV

Grian takes a deep breath, feeling salty air around him. The surface of the ocean was stirring, leaving ribbons of white waves bouncing against the shore. The reedy plants bend with the wind and waves, dancing in intricate patterns.

Grian takes a moment to appreciate the life surrounding him before slowly turning back out to the dock. He is immediately jumpscared by a pair of giddy eyes staring mere centimeters from his face. “Why Hello there Grian! Fancy seeing you here!”

“Bloody- SCAR!” Grian jolts backwards. “Warn me!”

“Oh but Grian you’re just too fun to spook!” Scar giggles, moving away from his frightened friend. “I hope you don’t mind, I took one of the poles from your chest monster.”

“Most of the ones in there are rods I’ve fished up from the ocean, so I can’t promise a quality fishing rod.” Grian flicks his own pole out into the ocean, watching his bobber fight the waves.

“You almost wonder who’s stocking the ocean with this many poles.” Scar jokes, joining Grian by casting his rod into the deep.

“You know, normally I would say it would be a combination of clumsy hermits like you and Mumbo.” Grian is momentarily interrupted by Scar’s playful outrage before he can finish his sentence. “But you don’t fish enough for that to make sense. My bet would be Etho. I could see him crafting poles only to toss them into the sea after a few uses.”

Scar hums. “I can picture Cub being the culpa-culpu-brit culprit. He’d set up a mass crafting table and chuck them into the ocean as stacks somehow.”

Grian laughs softly at the mental image of Cub gathering resources just to throw fishing poles into the sea.

“Ooo! I got something!” Scar laughs, leaning his weight away from the dock, as if he was wrangling a shark. “Come to Scar!” With a final tug, Scar nearly falls over as his catch miraculously lands straight in his hands. A shiny enchanted book, dripping with seawater stares at the two fishermen.

Scar wipes off the book, and pauses. He’s uncharacteristically quiet and still.

Grian pinches the bridge of his nose, his internal monologue screaming louder than the voices of Chat. He breathes in sharply through his nose, trying to diffuse some of the tension in his head.

“Heyyy… You’ll get it next time Grian! The ocean will be on your side!” Scar cheers, shaking off some of his shock, trying futility to comfort Grian.

Grian drops to his knees and screams.


Click here to start over!



Grian pauses to look out at the sea. Maybe it was something with the morning light, or the thunderous chatterbox he has talking in his ears, but he has a feeling fishing right now wouldn’t nab him his precious mending book.

He walks over to his fishing storage, peers around to see if other hermits are watching, before dropping down into his secret storage. He quickly puts a single cod into the password barrel, and fully enters the chamber below.

He’s first greeted by a small pond. Here exists a tiny utopia of marshwater life, with lush plants and skittering insects. A door farther into the chamber is guarded by giant statues of cod, peering down at him with vacant eyes–a warning to not incur the wrath of the ocean.

He steps forward to continue into the chamber, but is stopped by hitting a teal shulker box placed within his path.

Grian opens the box to find a fish head with a little note.

‘Dearest Permit Worker,

Our institution humbly requests you open the permit offices at once, as we have special interests with you. Please make your way to the office at once, properly dressed in appropriate attire. After all, you wouldn’t want your chances of mending to reach zero due to an unfortunate *ahm* accident. Burn this note in the complaints bin to let us know you’ve arrived.


Big Salmon

P.S. We’ll know if you ignore us. We’re always watching. ‘

Ignore those idiots!


Chamber Time

Grian crumples the note, and tosses it somewhere behind him. Whoever that ‘Big Salmon’ was clearly doesn’t know how he operates. He did get a free shulker box out of it though, so he can’t complain too much.

Grian walks with a purpose, towards the vaulted door currently blocking his path. He feels an underlying current of power as the doors open.

Stepping through the entrance feels like he’s traveled to another world. The constant sound of waves he’s heard all morning has disappeared, replaced by an echoing drip falling into the depths below. The chamber is blanketed by almost darkness, the faint light from ancient lanterns are his only salvation from pitch black.

The door closes behind him, sending a rush of cool air over his entire body. Maybe it could be the goosebumps but Grian suddenly feels alone in the world. Like this room has silenced all other life around him, and given him the equivalent of a megaphone to shout into the cosmic universe.

As he steps farther and farther into the echoing tunnel, the audience becomes louder, and louder. The giant cod statues seem to be joining into the chorus, despite having mouths constructed from andesite and limestone.

Grian continues to pace forward, the audience’s thoughts acting like noisy bouncy balls careening around his brain.

Manifest Mending! Pray to the Ocean gods, May they Bless your Fortune!
Curse the Ocean Gods! They’ve disgraced you!**


Manifest Mending

Despite the loud voices shaking within his head, Grian feels calm. He is but driftwood floating on a pool of thoughts, destined to go where the greater current flows. He moves across the stone path with gentle steps, dancing to the rhythm of the tides.

He tries his best to let his thoughts pass calmly as distant ships, hopefully leaving room for some greater being to bestow luck upon him.

Grian meets the podium calmly. He stands at the large slab with an openness, ready to experience whatever may happen. He breathes in the salt-tinged air, feels the air currents gently parting around his still form. He watches the immobile bricks, their sturdy pillars dutifully holding the room together.

Now the inexperienced folks would say nothing happened. That Grian stood at the end of that chamber for naught.

But to Grian, every step out of the Chamber of Sea Critters was filled with determination.

Treasure Calls.. Fish in the depths…
See where the determination takes you…
Follow the waves… Become one with the waves**


Cast with Hermits

It’s not exactly surprising that Grian ends up back at his little fishing dock, trusty Rodney in hand. However, as he prepares to flick out his next cast, he feels a quick snag on his jumper.

“I’m sorry Grian, didn’t mean to catch you there!” Gem grins, skillfully unhooking her lure. “Compelled to fish too I see.”

“The ocean calls,” Grian responds, “I must answer.” Grian takes a moment to acknowledge his surroundings. Impulse and Skizzleman are just beyond Gem, chatting excitedly as they set up their own poles. Etho has already cast his line out into the deep while precariously balanced upon on top of a lilypad. Cub is setting up on the other side of the dock, checking the wind direction and the sturdiness of the bank. Cleo is a few paces farther than Cub, using their strong biceps to cast the tiny lure as far as they can. Ren is afloat in a homemade raft, digging through his tacklebox for the perfect lure.

Both water and his own emotions are calmer with his fellow hermits around. Grian inhales and tosses his bait out into the depths.

He waits patiently. The music of other hermits catching and recasting their own poles builds a peaceful symphony.

Grian finally gets his own solo as his line jumps. He reels up his own catch to find a pufferfish.

The other hermits are stealing your luck! Move to another spot!
Recast Quickly! The Ocean gods smile upon you!



Grian stores his fish away, and flicks his lure back into the water.

“I don’t really know why I’m doing this, but I don’t want to stop.” Ren breaks the silence, having just reeled up his latest catch into his raft.

“I’m in the same boat, Ren.” Skizz responds, adjusting his fishing pole in his hand.

“No you’re not, Skizz,” Impulse teases, “You’re standing on the bank next to me.”

A soft laughter breaks out amongst the fishermen.

“You know there’s always room in my boat for a handsome hermit such as yourself, Skizz” Ren flirts.

“How could I resist!” Skizz says gleefully. “But how am I going to get in your butt without getting wet?”

“Oh My God You Two!” Gem groans. “Get a room!”

“You know they won’t Gem.” Cleo laughs, “Both Ren and Skizz would die without inflicting their daily psychic damage to other hermits.”

“Aww Clebert! You understand us so well!” Skizz laughs. “I’m sure if Ren and I squeeze, we can make room for you in the butt too!”

“Why can’t you just pronounce boat normally Skizz!” Gem complains.

“That’s asking to take the Skizzisms out of Skizz, Gem.” Impulse responds, reeling his fishing pole in. “You’d have more luck trying to get Etho to dress up in Keralis’s neon yellow swimsuit.”

“Well said Dippledop!” Skizz cheers, side hugging Impulse.

“Should I be concerned about the safety of my closet?” Etho questions aloud.

Grian feels a tug on his lure, and quickly yanks his catch to shore. He’s met with a shiny tome dripping with seawater.

“Did you get it, Grian?” Cub asks, staring at the book.

“I’m almost too scared to look.” Grian says, wiping away the algae from the cover. He sighs as ‘Respiration III’ glints back at him. “Another Respiration.”

“On the bright side, that will allow Skizz to swim over to Ren’s boat properly.” Cleo says. “Otherwise his big mouth would run out of oxygen.”

The group laughs at Cleo’s joke and Skizz’s ensuing faux outrage.

The other hermits are stealing your luck! Move to another spot!
Recast Quickly! It’s this time for sure!


Recast II

“I’m so unlucky.” Etho remarks. “I’ve only got fish and lily pads so far.”

“The sea will give you what the sea wants you to have.” Grian states, casting his lure back out to sea.

“Careful Grian.” Cub tsks. “That implies that the sea forbids you from your precious Mending.”

Grian feels a rush of competitiveness flowing through his veins. “Watch me pull a Mending book right now.”

“Bold, G” Skizz cheers.

“Now that you’ve said it, you know it’s not going to happen right?” Cleo retorts.

“I will eat my own shorts if you pull a mending book right now.” Ren jokes, recasting his own pole. “Etho, I see you sneaking off, giving him a mending book is cheating!”

“Aww” Etho whines, turning back towards the pond.

Grian feels a bite on his pole, and the nerves sink down into his stomach. He takes a deep breath before pulling his treasure up to the surface.

Hope floods his chest as he’s met with a gleaming wet book.

A chorus of anticipating cheers rise as Grian steps closer to the tome.

He carefully wipes off the cover. In glittering golden letters Grian slowly reads the title letter by letter. ‘Efficiency IV, Mending.’

A giant grin breaks out on his face. The ocean gods finally favored him.

“No Way!” Cub says in disbelief. “Someone verify it!”

Gem bounces her way over to Grian and peers over his shoulder at the book. “It’s legit. Even got Efficiency to go along with it.”

“Way to go G!” Skizz cheers.

“You are finally released from your curse.” Ren says dramatically.

“I don’t know what to feel.” Grian says, “I’ve finally got my Mending.”

“Now all you have to do is fish up another eight books so you can fully gear up.” Etho jokes.

“Absolutely not.” Grian quips back immediately.

“We do have one more thing to look forward to.” Cleo says, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Ren, when are you going to eat those shorts?”

“Uhhhh…” Ren’s voice trails off. “I was hoping everyone would forget about that…”

Ending 3: 90% Cotton, 6% Spandex 4% Rendog Stomach Acid

Click here to start over!


Cast alone

“You all are going to steal my mending away from me.” Grian complains. “I can feel myself becoming more and more unlucky!”

Grian watches Gem scowl before quickly trying to hide it. “I mean Pearl just logged on, I bet we can put these fishing rods to a more murderous use.”

The other hermits as a collective sound delighted at this idea.

“Wait, I want to come!” Grian reels in his line.

“Ahh not so fast, Mending boy!” Gem says, heaving her fishing gear into her inventory. “You wanted the fishing loot to yourself, make the most of it.”

“You’ll have another time for shenanigans later, G.” Skizz smiles.

“Alright.” Grian sighs. “But I want a full retelling of what happened later!”

After a tiny bit of scrambling, the other Hermits leave to go hunt down Pearl, letting Grian face the treacherous ocean alone.

Cast Deeper! Dig for your treasure again!
Some master fisher you are! Cast shallow!.




“Chat there is nothing to sacrifice? What are you even doing?” Grian scoffs, continuing to walk forward into the chamber.


Grian rolls his eyes at chat, continuing to walk forward to the pedestal within the chamber.


“Chat I’m not scared, you're just making things up! There’s nothing to even sacrifice here!” Grian stops in front of the raised pedestal, tapping his foot in annoyance.


“Fine. Just to prove to you, chat.” Grian sighs. “Oh Ghoully Ghosties! Chat! I make sacrifice in this chamber of sea critters, for a single mending book!”

A whisper of fog begins to fill the room, and Grian feels a chill crawling up his body like a climbing vine. Despite the winding crisp air seeming to cling to his body, he feels lighter than air, as if his body is starting to rise into the air.


“Why did I listen to you.” Grian groans, lightheadedness ever pounding in his head. “I didn’t follow my number one rule: NEVER TRUST CHAT!”

His hands begin to fade in front of him, the translucent affliction inching up his arms.

Internally, Grian begins to panic. He tries to feel with his hands only to freak when the space where his hands should be can be moved painlessly through the giant stone pedestal.


“DON’T BLAME ME CHAT!” Grian huffs, choosing to ignore the rapidly expanding problem. “IT WAS YOU BUFFOONS THAT GOT ME INTO THIS MESS!


As the phantom curse passed over his eyes, Grian’s eye’s go white, before his vision focuses from a birds eye view of where he was just standing.



Would you all just SHUSH!”

[Moderator: Grian has placed chat in emote-only mode]

☹☹❤!💀‼🚫🚫🚫l!🃏💀🚫🚫⋯…😡🚫🚫💀💀💀🃏🃟␦✿✩⌫?⌫ɑβΩ‼😡❤❤💢✄☹✿🚨…💀💀💀 😞☹⌫✩✄💢… ✄☹⚙⚙…‼☹☹☹……?…💀

Wait…I have power!”


“Take that chat! Oh the silence! It’s amazing.”


“The lack of a body is a problem for future Grian. I’m just going to enjoy your pain after the things you’ve put me through!”


Click here to start over!


Eldritch Snail

Hover or Click to show TW: Death, open ending if respawn

“You know what, yes!” Grian shouts, voice sounding more hysterical with every echo off the chamber walls. “I bloody deserve that mending book!”

Grian hops up onto the pedestal of the room. He glares up at the statues brazen defiance emanating from his body.

“You call yourself the ocean, say you are full of treasure and yet you are full of NOTHING!” Grian yells, shaking his fist up at the sky. “Ocean gods–pfft, You don’t even exist!”

A blanket of fog precipitates from thin air, giving the room an unearthly chill. The cold pools around Grian’s ankles, bending around his legs like writhing snakes.

Grian’s regret for his actions suddenly skyrockets as the chamber goes from dim to pitch black in a tic. His feet are stuck stiff to the rocky pedestal, heartbeat quickening.

A low drone fills the silence. ,,˙ǝʇᴉsɐɹɐd,,

“What?” Grian murmurs into the quiet.

Two glowing specks suddenly appear suspended in the air, their icy blue swaying amongst the darkness in random but fluid motions.

,,¿sn ǝsɹnɔ ǝɹɐp noʎ 'ǝʇᴉsɐɹɐd,,

Grian shudders as the incomprehensible voice rumbles through the chamber. “I-I don’t understand..”

,,˙noʎ puoʎǝq sᴉ ɥɔᴉɥʍ ʇɐɥʇ puɐʇsɹǝpun oʇ ǝdoɥ ɹǝʌǝu plnoɔ no⅄,,

The specks start increasing their glow, almost blinding Grian. Where the chamber once was empty now reveals a giant looming snail. What he thought were other worldly specks, were actually the gastropod’s bobbing eyes, moving around inside his eyestalks. Its main body is reared up over Grian, the view of the spiraled shell blocked by its massive form.

,,˙uoᴉsuǝɥǝɹdɯoɔ ʎund ɹnoʎ puoʎǝq ʇɐɥʇ ɟo ʍɐɯ ǝɥʇ oʇuᴉ ɥɔɹɐɯ noʎ uǝɥʍ llnu sᴉ uoᴉʇɔǝʇoɹd ɹᴉǝɥʇ ʇnq noʎ ɹoʌɐɟ ʎɐɯ ǝsɹǝʌᴉun ǝɥʇ ˙plɹoʍ ǝɥʇ ɟo ǝdoɔs ǝɥʇ uᴉ ʇuǝɯoɯ lɐɯᴉsǝʇᴉuᴉɟuᴉ uɐ ˙ɥɔǝǝl ɐ ʇnq ǝɹɐ no⅄,,

The smaller pair of tendrils on its face move apart from each other as it speaks, revealing its mouth and sharp teeth. Despite them being mostly hidden, Grian knows from just the tiny glance that those teeth could easily scrape through his flesh.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry for disrespecting you.” Grian blurts.

Its eyes are trained upon him now. Grian can feel them unyieldingly staring into his very existence. He wonders if this is what prey animals feel like when encountering humans–every possible move he has will be effortlessly outsmarted. All he has left is to hope that the gods may forgive him.

Its mouth opens, letting out a sneering echo ,,˙ɹǝpuᴉɯǝɹ ɐ sɐ ǝʌɹǝs ɥʇɐǝp ʎɹɐɹodɯǝʇ ʇᴉǝqlɐ ɹnoʎ ʎɐW ˙ƃuᴉlɥsǝlɟ ‘ʍou snoᴉnbǝsqo ǝq oʇ ǝʇɐl ooʇ ǝlʇʇᴉl ooʇ,,

Before Grian can even move, the eldritch snail shoots something out of the side of his body, piercing straight through Grian’s chest. He feels nauseous and energetic, his body pumping adrenaline and poison throughout his bloodstream.

The last thing he sees is the snail’s giant form curling down upon his body, sharp teeth on full display.

Ending 5: ˙uᴉɐƃɐ xoq sᴉɥʇ uǝdo oʇ ʇou ʞǝǝs 'ɐɹopuɐԀ ƃuno⅄ ʇuǝdǝɹ

Click here to start over!


Permit Office

Hover or Click to show TW: Panic Attack, If you’d like to skip, you can start at the paragraph ‘Grian takes the scenic route to the permit office.’ (below all of the italic parts)

“You can’t convince me to go to the permit office. It’s not even opening hours at the moment! Besides, it’s not fun unless I can make someone else’s day worse!” Grian sasses back.


Grian winces at the cacophony, their voices seeming to threaten his ability to hear. “You won’t convince me, end of that. Now where was I–”


Grian mentally chastises himself for provoking the audience, deciding to try and wait out the sound.


Grian turns around, trying to regain momentum on what he was doing but the voices only seem to raise in volume.


Grian instinctively puts his hands over his ears, trying futilely to block out the sound broadcasting inside his head.


He tries to remove his hands, to go back to the ignoring strategy, but the sheer volume of the audience makes Grian’s hands glued to his head, regardless of the fact that they don’t do anything to protect his ears from the shrieking.


“SHUT UP! I-CAN’T–” Grian yells, his legs wobbling out from underneath him, collapsing to the floor in pain from the ever-present screaming.


Grian’s breathing hard, anxiety pulsing throughout his body, even as the voices quiet down.


His breathing slowly stops stuttering, heartbeat decrescendoing from a sprint to a medium jog. Grian takes a second to acknowledge where each of his limbs have sprawled out below him–hands cemented to the sides of his head, elbows braced tightly around his chest, stomach curled tightly over his thighs, calves and feet splayed at different angles in front of him. Taking a deep breath, Grian slowly sits up and moves his lower legs into a more comfortable position.


Grian refuses to take his hands off his ears, despite their inability to prevent sounds from his ever vigilant audience. To their credit, the shushing noises they were making now were tiny whispers easily blocked out like white noise, but their earlier thunderous response kept his hands magnetized to his temples.

Several minutes traveled by, Grian solely focused on keeping his breathing steady and calming himself down. He didn’t know how long it took to be mentally prepared to get up and address chat. “Never do that again.”


With that reassurance, Grian feels stable enough to bring himself to his feet, adjusting his elytra to properly sit on his back.

“I’ll make a deal with you.” Grian whispers, bracing himself for loud voices to fill the chat. “I will go to the permit office if and only if you give me a whole elytra flight of complete silence. Any noise, shhhs, quiet or otherwise will make this offer void.”


With the silence firmly established, Grian takes off into the sky.

Grian takes the scenic route to the permit office. He loops around magic mountain catching wind currents.

They dances across his skin, swirling playfully around each of his limbs.

Luckily chat seemed to be upholding their promise of peace. He almost forgets their presence gliding through the sky. It’s not until he touches down in the Permit Office parking lot that he hears a murmur of excitement swiftly followed by shushing.

“I appreciate the peace and quiet.” Grian says, walking up to the front doors to unlock them. “Let’s make sure to not give me any more headaches please.”

Grian makes his way through the front doors, locking them behind him. He flicks on the lights one by one to the brightest setting. He looks around the room momentarily before addressing chat again. “Now that I’m here, what shall we do?”

What’s in the Waiting room? Investigate time!
Open the office! Start the day!!
Dressup time! Permit office suit!.



“You know what chat, this does call for an outfit change.” Grian flicks open his portal to his magical changing room. “I always have an outfit on the ready!”

SkinChange! Woo!skinchangeChickenman!Office!PERMITTIMEskinchange!skin!NEWSKIN??Outfit?

“I like new clothes too chat, but where did ‘skin change’ come from? It’s not like I’m peeling off my skin?” Grian questions, stepping into the closet.

SKINCHANGEoutfitSKINS.WORLD SECRET! PeelYourSkin.NewSkin?youare:DSkinChange!ChickenCostume

Grian feels around for the light switch on the wall, turning on the single lightsource in the room. “I should really get better light in this room.”

As Grian steps further into the room, he weaves his way around the cluttered boxes and hanging garments. Several outfits are strewn randomly around the room, as if they were once placed somewhere and have since fallen. Grian almost trips on a pile of hot pink cloth on the floor. “Now let’s try and find our permit office outfit.”

Fishing calls… hear the ocean’s beckoning waves
Permit work! Grab and go! Permits to handle! PERMIT! PERMIT!
Secret door in the back! Investigate!
What’s hiding on the top shelf? What’s all in here? Skin Parade!


Chicken Costume

Grian wanders to the back of the closet, peering closely at the walls. Hidden, behind several boxes, he spies a crack in the back wall.

It takes him several minutes to reposition the shulkers just to attempt to open the door. Grian practically trapped himself inside the closet just to satiate his own curiosity.

Prying his fingers into the gap, Grian pulls with all his might. The door makes a loud groan as it wedges itself open. Dust and small feathers flutter down disturbed by the force of the opening door. Inside the room, Grian spies a glass case storing a..

ning door. Inside the room, Grian spies a glass case storing a..

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In Legal Trouble? Better call


“One call that’s all!”

Just Because You Did It Doesn’t Mean You’re Guilty!

Contact the Law Offices of Joe Hills Attorney at Law.

Located at Hermitcraft corner, Nashville Tennessee

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Ending 30: Selling out ruins franchises

Click here to start over!


Stuck in Closet


“Well.. I guess I could go through some of these old clothes.” Grian says, with a hint of excitement, “I haven’t organized this since before I joined Hermitcraft I think..” Grian grabs a crumpled t-shirt, unfolding it to see the red letters ‘MUMBO 4 MAYOR’ emblazoned across the front. He grabs a fallen hanger nestled between two astronaut helmets, before leaning over a massive stack of shulker boxes to hang the graphic tee up.

This simple act of hanging up his old t-shirt begins a cleaning frenzy. Grian begins with sweaters, grabbing several of his classic red jumpers that had been strewn randomly around the room. He even finds one inside of a Princess Leia costume. Christmas themed sweaters are next, as Grian quickly finds his purple snowman pullover and red and green embroidered jumper. He finds his Last Life sweater bunched behind a stack of leather jackets and sunglasses.

Partially due to encouragement from chat, Grian then gets distracted by accessories. His bad boy sunglasses are followed by his rainbow bandana from the Buttercup camp days. He combines it with a pink hair flower and luau necklace he received from Ren at Hippie Camp at chat’s insistence. Grian finds a stick-on Mumbo mustache in the same box that had the flower hairpiece.

Brushing off the dust, he sticks the stache to his upper lip. “Hello, It’s everyone’s favorite spoon, Mumbo!”

Grian spies a red tie dangling from a shelf above him and has an urge to grab it–after all the red tie is signature to Mumbo. He scrambles up precariously balanced chests, reaching his hands far above his head in an attempt to grab the tie.

Just as his fingers brush against the tie, his balance tips too far forward. A chain reaction occurs, as the chest he was perched upon slips out from under his grasp. Grian tries to grip on the shelf to regain his balance, but the very tie he was trying to grab moments ago makes it impossible to hold on. Grian screams as he tumbles to the floor, garments and boxes raining down upon him. He lands face first into a pile of clothes, with his limbs pinned between shulkers and chests. As Grian begins to struggle, a red kilt lands directly on his head, dampening his shouts.


“Oh Great Ghouly Ghosties! That scared the bloomin’ daylights out of me.” Grian says, short-winded. He cautiously moves his arms and legs, checking for any injuries. “Luckily, it doesn’t feel like any of my bones are broken, and I don’t think I have a head injury. I am however pinned in this pile of clothes.”

AAaaAStuck?phewokayStuckClosetjokeSTUCKhahahaCagedbirbSTUCKluckySTUCKokay HAHAHAHAA

“Yeah, Yeah,” Grian chides “Laugh it up. I’m sure I can break free.” Grian tries to drag his left arm forward, but only manages to rotate his shoulder slightly, stopping before he gets close to popping it out of its socket. He tries to kick his feet off the wall, but he has little room to move forward, as a fallen chest sits mere centimeters from his head. In a last ditch effort, he wiggles his body as if he were a worm, but all the movement manages to do is dig him further into the pile of clothes.

He’s firmly stuck. Oh no.

Grian begins to panic, his communicator is stuck unreachable in his pants pocket, and the permit office is typically empty.

Just before Grian makes the decision to scream for help, he hears commotion in the Permit office. “Hello? G? You better be ready to give me a permit or at least tell me what a base-blooming test is.”

“SCAR!” Grian yells, elated. “HELP ME! HELLLLPPP!”

Grian hears the doorway creak as Scar enters the messy closet. “Oh my! You’ve really got yourself stuck, huh Grian?” Scar says, carefully coming closer to the fallen mess.

“Can you help dig me out of here?” Grian asks, looking up at Scar with pleading eyes.

“Are you going to tell me what the blase-Blooming is?” Scar asks, his mouth curled up into a smirk.

“Scar! Everyone knows what the base-bloomin’ test is!” Grian boasts, not wanting to give up his fun. “Now please dig me out of here.”

“I’m sorry, Grian.” Scar places a jukebox down on the floor. “But I’m going to have to put you on hold.”

Ending 28: ba–dudah-ba-buh-buda-da–ba-da–ba–dudah-ba-buh-buda-da–ba-da–♫

Click here to start over!


Be Productive

Grian grabs one of his dress shirts and khaki work pants, managing to find them relatively quickly. It takes him a bit longer to find his watch and trusty black tie, having to rifle through several shulker boxes filled with random clothing–why past grian thought he should hang onto a strider helmet, grinch eyebrows and a kilt is beyond him.

He steps out into the permit office, his black work shoes making a subtle squeak on the linoleum.

Grian straightens his tie, before looking around. “Alright, Now to open the Permit office.”

What’s in the waiting room? Check it first! Waiting room!!!
Ready to start the day! Be a helpful hermit!
Who says you have to open? No customer workday!!


Open Office

Grian opens the doors with slight enthusiasm. Hopefully time will go by quickly, tormenting–no helping citizens with their permits. Grian walks back to his official counter, making sure to turn on and polish the lights above his desk.

He sits behind his counter and begins the waiting process.

“Wait.” Grian addresses chat. “Why am I bending to your wills? I can just put all of you on hold instead!”!PermitTime!nobad.HOLDMUSIC!!torture!FREEDOM!rebel!

“Whose holding who captive now!” Grian taunts chat. Laughing maniacally, Grian drops the music disk into the jukebox.


Ending 27: Uno Reverse Card

Click here to start over!


Burn the Letter

“I mean just because I’m here in the building, doesn’t mean I have to be open,” Grian says, walking over to the front doors. “I mean I could always check the complaint bucket?”

Grian opens up the machine, making sure all of the letters funnel properly into the pit of lava below. He then takes a few seconds combing through his inventory and discarding junk–a piece of string, a block of calcite, tanned leather hide, an ominous note, a stick and a cactus meet their fiery fate in quick succession.

The lava makes a satisfying woosh of burning ash as Grian closes the complaint bucket. “I probably should have paid more attention to some of those complaints, but ehh” Grian shrugs walking back into the middle of the room. “The permit office is only sometimes here to help anyway.”

What’s in the waiting room? Check it first! Waiting room!!!
No Customer workday time! Sleep in the back office!!


Meet Big Salmon

“Why should I even open the office? I mean I can just assume the door’s open and customer’s are just lazy. I mean why make my job harder?” Grian walks back to his desk, and settles down into his desk chair.

Out of the corner of his eye, Grian spots something in his beyond the front desk move. It sounded as if it came from his own office.

“Please all patrons are to meet consultants at the front counter.” Grian yells, not bothering to get up from his desk.

The rustling of papers, combined with the soft ticking of a clock echoes from the darkened room. Grian waits several minutes for the person to emerge, but the noises just seem to be getting louder.

With a giant sigh, Grian slowly stands up. “I don’t get paid enough for this.” He walks over to the door, and leans his body against the wooden frame searching the room. “Scar, this better not be some elaborate scheme for your animals permit!”

An oversized leather office chair that was not previously on the premises is now faced back to the room. The chair swivels slightly if someone’s sitting in it, cosplaying some evil movie villain.

“We’ve been expecting you.” A familiar high-pitched voice says with all the gravely deepness they can muster.

Grian can’t help it. He bursts out laughing.

Jimmy quickly swivels his chair to face Grian. He’s repurposed his bad boy leather jacket and sunglasses, and paired them with gray dress slacks, and a black turtleneck sweater. “It’s not funny! I have serious business with you!”

Grian just laughs harder.

“GRIAN!” Jimmy yells, in his classic whiney voice, “Pay attention!”

Grian’s hands move instinctively to support his aching abdomen, cackling laughter continuing to get stronger.

“Grian please.” Jimmy begs in his defeated tone, going so far to even stand up.

Finally getting his laughs to calm slightly, Grian manages to huff out a sentence. “W-Where did you manage to get a chair?”

Jimmy slumps back down into the aforementioned chair, his hands pulling at his face in annoyance. “I had this whole speech planned, and that’s your focus!”

Finally getting the laughter to stop bubbling from his mouth, Grian turns to Jimmy. “Go ahead then, threaten me from your ominous chair then Tim.”

“No, the moment’s ruined.” Jim sighs.

“Can I guess what this was?”

“No-” Jimmy responds, but Grian interrupts, responding anyway.

“You were probably going to threaten the permit economy, or are acting for Scar in some way. Probably threatening to make me sleep with the fishes.”

Jimmy’s silence speaks for itself. Grian’s laughter comes back with force. “Never change, Tim. Never change.”

Ending 34: Sleeping with the Fishes

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Investigate the Waiting Room

Grian walks carefully down the stairs to the proper waiting room, mindful of the steep marble steps. Ever since the first floor waiting area was cordoned off, Grian worried that some vengeful citizen could easily trap the basem*nt.

Successfully making it to the bottom step, Grian takes a second to look around. At a cursory glance, the waiting room looks like it’s normal albeit barren self.

Go back upstairs! Return to work!
Go sit down! Relax! Take a break!
Someone’s watching through the walls…investigate!**



Hover or Click to show TW: Ghosts, Haunted house, Grabbing Jumpscare, Involuntary silence–I promise Grian’s 100% safe during this entire chapter, it’s mimicking Phasmophobia

Grian tries to brush off chat’s remarks, justifying that they were just trying to get under his skin and make him paranoid. He walks further into the waiting room trying to investigate further.

Near the back of the wall, by the chairs, a door has appeared in the seams of the wall. The edges are otherworldly– It’s not like someone has installed a piston door flush with the wall or decided on using one of those three block doors Pearl seems so fond of.

Grian peaks his eye around the edge of the blocks, hoping to observe what lies below this alien doorway. An unsettling inky darkness stares back at Grian, the air musty and unsettling.


“Should I risk going in?” Grian questions aloud. The door oozed eeriness, and normally people with three brain cells would begin noping out of the entire situation.

But Grian was curious. And no matter how much of a scaredy cat something could make him, Grian will always be a curious cat first.

OPEN! Yes! go!go!adventureOPENyou’llregretEXPLORE!Open!!Adventure!!spookyshhh…

Grian digs his fingernails into the inky darkness, and pushes forward into the unknown. He takes a careful step forward.

Chat goes silent.

Something snakes around his upper waist and yanks him backwards. His back meets a solid form–it’s behind him.

He opens his mouth to scream. He barely makes a sound before a hand plasters over his lips.

Grian’s heart is racing–this monster has Grian firmly in its grasp, going to devour his soul worse than Mumbo did.

He tries to turn his face, begin shaking off this creature, only to have the creature pull him tighter to it’s chest.

“Shhhh…” a familiar voice whispers. The hand lifts off of his mouth, and falls lower to his shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. Grian takes a deep breath and tries to feel their surroundings. The body behind him is holding him–no hugging him. The arm that initially pulled him backwards rose up to brace around Grian’s chest, letting him breathe.

From some far away microphone Grian hears Impulse’s voice. “-’m sober!”

Grian feels the rumbles of the chest behind him as it begins to speak. “G, you alright? You started panicking and almost went directly out in the ghost’s path.” Skizz asks, voice laced with concern.

Grian doesn’t know how to respond. While he’s glad that the thing he previously thought was a monster was actually Skizz bear-hugging him for what the man implied was Grian’s apparent safety, Grian’s still has many questions unanswered. How did the wall and Skizz appear behind him? Why’s Impulse here? What does Skizz mean by ghost? Why are they in a closet?

“I see Ghost Orbs!” Gems voice filters through the same sort of static-y microphone. Apparently she’s here too.

“I think G sharp’s either AFK or spooked,” Skizz says, slowly turning both Grian and his own body until the two of them are face to face, maintaining the close grounding hug.

“Hey Grian,” Skizz says softer than before. “You don’t have to talk, but could you indicate to me that you can at least hear me, homie buddy?”

With a stomach filled with bouncy-balls, Grian lets himself lean closer into Skizz’s chest before nodding. He can’t even begin to explain his context of the situation without feeling overwhelmed, and sinking into Skizz’s warm embrace lets him quiet those anxious feelings.

“Dipple-dop, Gonna need a rescue.” Skizz says into the headset Grian can now see he’s wearing. “Bring as many smudge sticks as you can.”

“Rodger that!” Radio-Impulse responds back.

“Careful, ghost’s going to hunt any second.” Gem pauses, before yelling out “HUNT!”

Grian can hear Skizz swear under his breath, before fully wrapping his arms around Grian firmly.

Now that Grian isn’t focused on getting away from the scary closet monster, he can hear the raucous of something–the ghost, outside. Heavy footsteps rock the house with incredible speed, accompanied by vicious snarling.

As the footsteps get louder, he can feel his heartbeat crashing in his ears. Various clanks of objects careening to the floor, doors creaking as the monster throws them open and Skizz’s stalled breathing all make Grian panic more, stomach flipping in his abdomen.

“Hunts Over!” Gem radios, as Skizz lets out a big sigh. He pushes open the door of the closet and begins directing Grian to move with him.

Suddenly a dark figure bends around the corner, flashlight blinding Grian. “Whoops!” Impulse reaches and quickly flicks on the room’s light. “Sorry G! I brought the smudges, let’s get you back to the van huh?”

“I’ll guard G-sharp, you got ghost duty Dop!” Skizz replies, directing Grian down the hallway Impulse just came from. Grian has to step over several pieces of beeping electronics, two glowing crosses, and a massive pile of salt, before reaching the stairs.

He spies Gem standing just beyond the front door of the house, waving for him to come closer faster. “Hunt’s gonna start soon! Hurry!”

Gem’s urgency somehow allows Grian’s feet to double the pace, letting his body sprint to her. Skizz barely makes it through the doorway before it slams shut on the group.

“Phew!” Skizz cheers, pulling the others into a group hug. “Once Dipple-Dop survives this hunt, lets GAG so we can get some ice cream!”

“What ice cream places are even open at this hour?” Gem chastises, “Don’t say McDonalds, you know their Ice cream machine is broken.”

“I guess we’ll get gas station slushies instead!” Skizz responds, ushering them into the giant van parked on the curb. Grian doesn’t have the faintest idea of what any of the electronics lining the walls of this truck even do, nor does he recognize what Skizz is even referring to by ‘gas station slushie.’

For the first time since he’s discovered this world, Grian’s vocal chords decide to work for him. “I think I need a nap.” Grian lets himself slink down to the cool floor of the truck, and immediately lets his eyes grow heavy.

“Hey G!” Skizz joyfully yells. “You’re alive!”

“We can pull out the cot for you, Grian.” Gem responds, “Hopefully quickly if Scar hasn’t left the last five tripods in it the last time he was playing cats.”

The last thing his semi-conscious state hears is metal rustling, followed by loud boisterous laughter. Hopefully this whole experience was just an awful dream.


Click here to start over!


White Void

Grian figures he should probably check out the one bench in the waiting room. After all, it’s important to have a functional seating area.

And if he was to lay down on the bench for several hours– well he was just being through!

Grian makes his way over to the bench, and proceeds to make himself comfortable. He slips off his sneakers, and pulls out a miscellaneous wool block from his inventory to function as a quick pillow.

Maybe it was the cold basem*nt-type air or the exhaustion from constantly listening to chat, but he manages to fall quickly asleep.

Shhhhhhh….bequietshhh resting time zzzzzzzZZZzzzz shhhh honk-shewsnoringzzzzzzzz tired sleeptime rest…..

Ending 33: you’re still here?

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Gone Fishin’

Grian goes to grab his dress shirt for the permit office, only to have a fishing rod drop out of the closet, clanking down at his feet.

Ocean calls…time to fish…mending book calls…

Grian picks up the fishing rod, and a wave of euphoria washes over him. Completely on autopilot, he grabs the rod, slips into the proper fishing attire and somehow ends up at a lakeside near the permit office before he realizes it.

“Where-Is my autopilot that dedicated to fishing?” Grian laughs, casting out his rod into the lake. His bobber pulls down almost instantly. With a mighty yank, he pulls his catch up to the bank.

After cleaning the pond scum off the treasure, Grian examines it closer. It’s a scroll. He carefully unrolls the paper, being gentle with the wet parchment.

“Oh this is where it ended up.” Grian says, staring down at the gold tier All Mobs permit. “Oh well I’m sure no one wanted this one anyway. Best not give the permit office any more responsibilities.”

Grian tossed the permit back into the pond and continued to fish unbothered by the rest of the world.

Ending 29: Somewhere Scar is Internally Screaming

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Ariana Griande

Grian reaches down for the mysterious pink clothing, only to suddenly feel a wave of nausea overcome him. He wobbles around on his feet before slowly restabilizing.

“There you are Gri, where were you!” Cub grabs his arm and proceeds to lead him around before Grian can really get a handle of his surroundings. Cub has traded his typical lab coat for an all black ensemble, complete with earpiece and headset. “Man as great as Cleo and Keralis are with hair and costuming, I wish they would value speed a tiny bit more than perfection.”

Grian takes a second to look down at his body expecting his comfortable red jumper or even his fishing flannel, only to be surprised. A bright pink crop top and skirt set accompanied by white platform boots swish with his hurried steps.

Cub presses the side of his headset, “Stage crew, I’m making my way through the west corridor with our star. X how’s light and sound check coming?”

Cub finally slows down their pace enough for the nausea to catch up with Grian again. He feels bile rising in his throat and rushes to the nearest trash can he can find.

“Is the band fully done warming up instruments? Did we find Impulse another set of sticks?” Cub takes a harsh breath into his lungs, quickly followed by an angry sigh. “I thought Hypno said–oh shi–, code Mumbo’s Christmas party, Ren you didn’t give Grian any of your laced stash did you–I told you to be more careful in the future.”

Cub hands gently guide his hair away from his mouth, rubbing his back to soothe the hiccuping acid in his throat.

Suddenly a high pitched squeal reverberates through the hall. “OMG Jessica! We found her!! QUICK!”

“Security, Help in the west corridor asap.” Cub turns towards the trespassers. “You are not allowed to be back here.”

“ARI! ARI! I can’t believe I’m meeting you in the real world! Your song ‘I’m agrian with you’ was my lifeblood when getting through my dog’s divorce.”

Grian picks his head up carefully from the trash can, only to be met with two frantically waving teenagers, decked out in neon pink outfits with different colored feather boas. Cub is struggling to hold back both girls, who are trying to claw their way past him.

“Your Motherspore album is on 25/7 in my house! I have the included poster hanging on my ceiling so I can pray to it every night before I sleep!” One shouts, jumping towards Cub’s chest in an attempt to knock him over.

Unfortunately for Grian, Cub must have slipped, since the next thing he knows is he’s getting excitedly shaken by the two fans. And his stomach is not happy about it.


He is feeling sicker by the second. The shaking only seems to increase with their excitement.


And Grian can’t hold it back anymore.

He vomits all over both fans.

Grian is blessed with a few pleasant seconds of quiet and stillness before the shrieking starts again.

“OMG! Sarah!!! We’ve been blessed!!”



Luckily, Cub has gotten back on his feet at this point, and manages to body block the fans away from Grian. “Ladies, please stop shaking Ms. Griande, otherwise she won’t be able to perform tonight.”

Suddenly False and Gem turn down the corridor, decked out in security vests and moving with purpose. With only a slight nod of communication, each manages to secure one of the fans and begin leading them away.

“Now with that fiasco behind us, Are you alright Grian?” Cub asks, moving to support Grian’s teetering body.

Grian can only groan in response. He feels utterly awful.

“Mumbo, Scar?” Cub asks into his headset. “Start getting ready. Plan Shapeshifting Autotune is a go. I’ve got a sick birdie to manage.”

Ending 31: The Price of Pop Stardom

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Prognosis: Chat's Chew Toy - Anonymous (2024)
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