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This was it. This was the time it would finally work.
Fundy just knew it.
Granted, he had ‘known’ that for the last couple of attempts as well, but this time was different. Totally.
He wiped his forehead, ignoring the smear of clay it left on his fur. He had spent ages studying the enchanting table and old books he had ‘borrowed’ from Eret to find all the runes he needed. Then he had carved them into clay. Looking back, half of the failed attempts had been due to hasty research and the other half due to hasty hands. But he had been patient this time. Methodical.
And now they were ready.
Fundy reached for the redstone and carefully dusted it over the clay figurines.
“Okay,” he began, clearing his throat. “I know you spirits have been watching me. Witnessing my pranks. I know, I know, I’m very entertaining. But how about you do more than watch? Doesn’t that sound fun?”
No response.
“Look, I made you these little bodies!” he said. “And I used all these runes to code it so you can control them. Just give them a go. You probably won’t regret it. But also, by inhabiting them you are accepting all liability, and cannot sue me. Ever.”
Not even a twitch.
Fundy sighed. He had been so sure. Well, back to the drawing board.
He turned to grab his notebook.
“Okay, just have to record how this was a massive failure… wha?”
All the figures were gone from the table.
Fundy looked around wildly. Then something tugged at his leg.
Surrounding him were tiny, multi-coloured figures.
“It worked!” he yelled in excitement. “You’re all the guys who’ve been watching me, huh?”
Nods all around.
“Awesome. Want to help me with some… projects?” The air quotes were practically audible.
More nods.
“Cool,” Fundy said, nodding back. “Then as of today I dub you ‘CHAT’.”
As it turns out, CHAT weren’t the brilliant assistants he thought they would be.
Fundy probably should have anticipated this. Not only were their hands too tiny to pick up any tools, but they were the kind of beings to watch him all day. Which did not translate to them being particularly helpful.
“Please, stop filling in the hole,” he pleaded. “Seriously, at this rate the trap won’t be complete in time.”
Thankfully, some of the more generous spirits stepped in and dragged away the ones who seemed to delight in Fundy’s suffering. With relief, he got back to digging.
Even if they were being a pain in the ass, Fundy was still glad he had them with him. It felt good to have company, what with everyone being busy with building up L’manberg. Which, he knew technically they were there before, but it actually felt real now that they had bodies.
Also, it was kind of cool to be swarmed by all these figures. Like he was a leader of an army. He couldn’t wait to see everyone’s reactions.
Fundy looked at the hole he dug and, satisfied, went to climb out. But just as he was at the top, the soil beneath his claws gave out and he fell back down.
He hadn’t given the figures mouths – that was for next time – but he could still hear the spirits sniggering.
Standing up, he shook the dirt from his fur and climbed out, successfully this time. He was greeted by a number of ‘L’s drawn on the ground.
“Not one day,” he said, placing a hand to his chest in mock-offense, “and you’re already betraying me CHAT.”
Walking over the ‘L’s, Fundy grabbed all the honey he had collected and poured it into the hole. He was sure Tubbo wouldn’t be to mad about Fundy borrowing from his stockpile. Then he covered it with the fake grass he had made.
“Now,” he said to CHAT, “all that’s left to do is wait.”
Fundy sat down, doing his best to act casual. Some of the clay figures started grabbing at his tail, so he entertained himself by keeping it out of their reach.
“What the fuck are those things?”
There was only one person Fundy knew who was that loud. And sure enough, there was the big man himself.
“Why don’t you come over and find out?” replied Fundy. Tommy hesitated, but his curiosity won out.
He stepped forward and promptly fell into the hole.
“Hey!” cried out Tommy, indignant.
CHAT crowded around the hole. Some of them leaned over the edge while others jumped up and down. Some made an ‘L’ shape with their tiny hands.
Grinning, Fundy summoned the feathers from his inventory.
Understanding dawned on Tommy’s face, and with it horror. “Don’t you dare-” he said.
Oh, but Fundy did dare.
He dropped the feathers into the hole.
Tommy squawked in rage. Rather like a bird, in fact.
“Fundy, what the hell is this?”
Of course, Wilbur chose this moment to round the corner. Fundy knew he was referring to chicken-Tommy, but. Well. If he’s leaving room for interpretation….
“Dad! These guys are my CHAT!” declared Fundy, spreading his arms to indicate to the figures swarming around him. Tommy was still spluttering in the hole.
“Your what?” asked Wilbur.
“Clay Humanoid Automatic Task-helpers,” clarified Fundy. He was kind of proud of the name. It just felt right. “CHAT.”
“What?”
“You know how we all have those spirits watching over us?” explained Fundy. “And sometimes they take on physical form? Like you with your songbirds or Tommy with his raccoons? Well, mine didn’t have any, so I figured I’d make them some.”
“Huh,” said Wilbur. “I have to admit, that’s pretty impressive. But I guess I should have expected that from my little champion.”
Most times Fundy heard ‘little champion’ it made him cringe. Usually because it was accompanied by cooing or the pinching of his cheeks. But this time, it felt genuine. Fundy grinned.
“Are either of you going to help me out?” asked Tommy.
“No,” replied Fundy and Wilbur at once.