Moose tracks

TWs: Technoblade, implied murder, lots of mentions of food.

Hermitcraft was a nice server. It was full of amazing people, who could do amazing things. Everything Grian needed was there.

But he really wanted ice cream.

Chocolate ice cream. With chocolate chips.

OK, then Grian could leave the server and pick up some ice cream at the hub. Problem: the ice cream shop was a Watcher owned establishment.

Many years before, Grian had worked at the ice cream shop. Those had been good times. He had everything he needed; ice cream, friendly coworkers, possible murder mysteries. But he wanted a real server.

So he ran away. Technically, he was still hired. The Watchers weren't ones to give up on workers that easily. They would send him letters demanding he come back every week or two.

If Grian went near the ice cream shop, he knew the watchers would scoop him up, place him at the register, and give him a 20-hour shift.

But he really wanted ice cream...

Grian thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought. Finally he came to the conclusion that he could look up an ice cream recipe on the internet. Hesilently praised his genius and took out his communicator.

Problem: apparently the Watchers had deleted every single ice cream recipe on the internet, forcing people to go to them for the beloved treat.

Grian resigned himself to his fate. He had to go to the ice cream shop.

Grian called someone on his communicator.

"What do you want," came Technoblade's gruff voice.

"Well, my fellow Dreamslayer, have you heard of the watchers?" Grian asked.

"Yeah, Phil's said a few things about them," Techno answered.

"Them forcing people to buy their ice cream by deleting all recipes off the internet sounds an awful lot like a corrupt government," Grian said.

"I'll be there in five minutes," Techno said.

Techno hung up.

Grian left Hermitcraft and walked up to the ice cream shop. The Watcher at the counter recognized him instantly and grinned.

"Before you set me to work, can I have some moose tracks ice cream?" Grian asked.

"Fine," the Watcher said.

The Watcher gave him a small scoop.

Grian slowly liked it, savoring the chocolate flavor.

The door was slammed off it's hinges. A piglin hybrid with a shining netherite ax stood where the door used to be.

Technoblade smirked. The Watchers screamed.

The ice cream shop was painted red that day. Grian went back home to Hermitcraft with an ice cream cone in hand.

Hope everyone enjoyed this nonsense I came up with in less than half an hour.