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There are some things you just don’t do to a guy. Re-name his animals, steal his diamonds and, arguably most importantly, you don’t burn his bread bridges. Sure it may be ugly and a poorly disguised murder plot and the people who built it may have trampled all your crops but burning the bridges is a step too far. At least in Joel’s opinion. That was their home, their livelihood, their only source of food and without it they were nothing but three guys in leather jackets and sunglasses, still arguably cool but they weren’t The Bad Boys without the Bad Boys’ Bread Bridge (or the quadruple B if they were in a hurry and didn’t feel like a tongue twister). And Cleo destroyed that for them. For absolutely no reason… if you ignore building a massive eyesore to her base… and maybe accidentally on purpose blowing them up a teensie tiny bit. But that wasn’t the bad boys’ fault, they shouldn’t have set up camp directly across from the infamous Bad Boys. At least they had enough morals not to blow up Skizz like everyone else did the other day. The poor man was put through the wringer and another death would have sent him over the edge. So if you look at it that way, the bad boys were kindly, upstanding citizens, sharing the love with everyone.
Joel returned to the husk of a mansion to gear up and to check on the rest of the bad boys. Grian was mostly fine, only a few cuts and minor burns as he wasn’t in the mansion or on the bridge when it first was lit, however Jimmy’s wing feathers had been pretty badly burned, bad enough that he couldn’t fly for weeks. At the sight of this Joel felt his blood boil. How dare they harm his brother while playing happy families just a stone’s throw away. He was never going to forgive the Clocker family for the burning of his bread bridge but after this he couldn’t even wait till his red life.
He stormed over to their chests to gear up, pulling out a freshly enchanted diamond sword and a flint and steel. He still had a few explosives in his pockets. He regretted giving Scar some explosives as an apology, if he knew what they would do he would have never wasted such important resources. As he made his way towards the crumbling bridge to cross to the other side, Grian stood in his way. It was infuriating, and Joel went to shove past him before catching the mischievous glint in his eyes.
“What?” he spat, ready to wreak havoc.
“Joel wait,” his younger brother grinned before continuing, “if we wait we can take them by surprise, they’ll be expecting revenge now but will they tomorrow or the day after? In the meantime we can waterlog the mansion so this doesn’t happen again.”
Joel glared at him, “Or maybe they won’t be expecting anything while we’re green, so now would be the best time to strike!”
“Or we could wait until we fully recover from this attack so when we hit back, we hit back harder than we can now.” Joel sighed and walked away, if they had to wait then he would spend his time doing something useful. Like gathering netherite or getting more explosives.
By the time Joel was red a week later his anger had stewed for so long it was now syrupy. It clung to him, putting others into an uneasy state by just being near him and alerting everyone before he arrived. He didn’t care. They were right to be uneasy. But despite what others may say, he wasn’ t about to snap. That happened days ago, all sense of right and wrong went out the window with his bridge. And now Grian was on red, they could spread chaos through the server and make them pay.
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Jimmy was dead. He was almost dead. Grian was hunting down Scar. That left Joel with the other two. And by all things unholy was he going to make it hurt.
“Oh Bdubs!” he sang when he finally saw the moss man, “Care to share how much time you have left?”
“An hour and a half so if you wanna get me out you’ll have to kill me twice.”
“Perfect,” he clapped his hands together before pulling out his diamond blade, “Now twice seems a bit, pardon my pun, overkill. One death will be enough I think.” At that he plunged the sword into Bdubs, killing him. Now onto the cause of it all. He brought out his other sword, a new one never used. It was enchanted with the best enchantments they could get and sharp enough to cut a grain of sand. The netherite soaked in all colour from the area, as if it was made of shadow. The engraved name shone up at him [Zombie Slayer]. Hopefully it would live up to its name and kill the zombie that had been a thorn in his side for far too long.
On his hunt for Cleo, Scar’s death message flashed up on his phone. Stabbed by Grian. That was great for Joel, they were more evenly matched now. He kept his sword drawn, not wanting to use it on anyone but Cleo yet but if he was attacked he wanted to stick around.
“Stop there,” a familiar voice said behind him, Cleo had found him.
“I don’t think I will,” he said before leaping towards them. He wouldn’t remember much of his attack other than the feeling of warm blood on his hands and the immense joy he felt when her breathing finally stopped. He didn’t even notice when Bdubs appeared behind him, sword drawn. He didn’t care when that blade entered his stomach causing him to lose another hour.