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“Gosh, it’s hot in here,” Mumbo says to Tango, using Tango’s mouth, talking about Tango’s body. “I never realized, but you really do just walk around with an open flame on your head all the time. How do you not just catch random things on fire?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Tango’s voice says in the back of his head. Or maybe the back of his own head? Mumbo really isn’t sure. This whole body sharing business is confusing enough as it is. “Listen, this should be easy. It’s just one session, okay? You’ve played these games, you know the drill.”
Mumbo goes to fiddle nervously with his mustache, only for his fingers to encounter a distinct lack of facial hair. This puts him out more than anything else about the process so far, if he’s honest. “Theoretically, yes, but I’m pants at it,” he whinges. “I don’t suppose you have any tips?”
Tango’s voice in the back of his head just laughs at him. “Look, you’re asking the wrong guy if you want death game tips. Just try not to get me killed. Us killed? Whatever, you get it.”
Tango is not all that surprised when Mumbo does, in fact, get them killed.
He’s more surprised by the fact that when he wakes up, expecting to respawn back in his own body on Past Life, he instead finds himself on the Hermitcraft server, standing in the middle of the little town of Magic Mountain Row. When he looks down at himself, he’s wearing a suit. Quickly, his hand flies to his face, and—yep, there it is. On his upper lip is that distinctive, unmistakeable mustache.
With a groan, Tango pulls out his—or, rather, Mumbo’s—communicator and begins composing a message to Xisuma. So much for taking a vacation.