The Beetlejoest was lost. Not that Joe was any better, really, but Beetlejoest hated being on the same level as Joe with anything, so you could understand how this was annoying. Joe had gone to the mangrove forest of the witch Shelby, to ask her for some mangrove roots and wood. He hadn't realized the time of night, the fool, and Beetlejoest had taken over, said fuck the system, and went into the thick forest himself to just yoink some roots for himself. However, the fog in and around the forest was thick, and within a few minutes, the Beetlejoest was hopelessly lost.
“Stupid fog.” The Beetlejoest muttered, hitting the side of a mangrove tree with a stick he’d found. “Stupid Joe, wanting mangrove roots. What, is normal wood too good for you, you hipster? I’ll fight the fog, that’s what I’ll do. Intimidation is the only way to get what you want, ya hear that, fog?”
“You can’t fight fog, you miserable shit.” A voice, airy and echoing, came from the fog.
“Ahh! Wha- who’s there? This ain’t my ex-wife, is it?”
“What? No, I don’t think I’m your ex-wife.” A tall figure stepped into view. The being was slightly translucent, although the Beetlejoest could still see that the figure wore a faded yellow sweater, with a peculiar blue stain. “I’m Ghostbur. Who are you? And have you seen a blue sheep around?”
“Ah, well, see, me here, I’m the Beetlejoest, in no way affiliated with Joe Hills, thank you very much.” The Beetlejoest adjusted his suit and stuck out a hand. Ghostbur tried to shake it, but since they were both ghosts, they just had an awkward moment where their hands went through each others. “I haven’t seen or heard a sheep, much less a blue one. Can’t see a darn thing in this fog.”
“Well, if you see one, it’s name is Friend, and it fucking ran off.” Ghostbur started to wander off, but the Beetlejoest ran after him.
“Wait! Wait! I would normally time you out and make you read the rules, and cursing is one of them, but beggars can’t be choosers! I am lost, and I need help getting out of this dumb forest! I can help you find your sheep, first, of course, I’m not a monster, just a ghost, a Beetlejoest doing the beetlemost, if you will.”
Ghostbur turned to look at him. “You talk so much, yet say so little. But I guess I also don’t have a choice, so come on then.”
The Beetlejoest opened and closed his mouth in surprise and outrage, but decided to wait to strike his revenge and followed the taller ghost.
“Friend! Friend! Come back I have some nice wheat for you!” Ghostbur called into the fog.
“What kind of name is Friend, anyway?” The Beetlejoest grumbled crossly. “Did you have to be 2014 tumblr quirky or something?”
“You must be American- you remind me of that annoying American guy with the onesie. Came into my house and put American flags up. I burnt them, naturally. You’re not Connor in disguise, are you? He’d be the type to get lost in fog.” Ghostbur sneered.
“No, I am The Beetlejoest through and through.” The Beetlejoest said. “But if you wish to speak on the American flag, did you know that-”
“Shut up, I hear baa-ing!” Ghostbur interrupted. “Friend? I have some wheat! Come here!”
And out of the fog came a fluffy blue sheep, which looked calmer then both of the ghosts combined. Ghostbur hugged it in relief and tied a lead to it.
“Right, so, I helped you, now will you help me find my way out?” The Beetlejoest asked.
Ghostbur laughed awkwardly. “Well, I’m afraid that I’m now in the same boat as you. I am also lost. I don’t even know how I got into this forest in the first place.”
The Beetlejoest looked at him in surprise. “How can you not know how you got here?”
Ghostbur frowned, a puzzled look on his face. “I don’t know. I wasn’t here, and then I was.”
“Well, where were you before, then?” The Beetlejoest asked.
Ghostbur shook his head. “I’d rather not… don’t worry about it, alright? I’m sure if we walk in a line, we’ll find an end. Where? I don’t know.”
So, with no other option, they walked. They made for quite a crew- a black and white ghost in a pinstripe suit, a ghost with a yellow sweater, and a blue sheep. They walked through the fog, avoiding mangrove trees that came out of nowhere and ignoring the whispers. And eventually, somehow, they emerged from the fog and were right in front of Shelby’s house.
“We did it!” The Beetlejoest said. “I’m back where I was. I don’t know how, but we did it!” He went to high-five Ghostbur, but found the man gone, the sheep as well. All that was left was a bit of blue substance on the ground, like a rock or something. The Beetlejoest picked it up, and as he did, the first rays of sun peaked over the treetops, and Joe Hills took his place. He held the blue substance in his hands, not a solid or a liquid, but something else entirely.
“Well, thanks Ghostbur. And Friend. Sorry we didn’t get to say goodbye.” Joe said. He pocketed the blue stuff, and took the nether portal nearby back home. He could just use something else in place of those mangrove roots. He didn’t need them that badly.
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