Y'all I'm back and I did absolutely nothing during my little time gap. Like, seriously, nothing. I mean I died a couple times but that's beside the point- Anyways, here's a single standing oneshot that will make sense to nobody! I'm a bit rusty with writing, so there's ya warning. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1,432
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Before we travel back in time, let me allow you to know about the present; It was a normal day. The sun was out and shining to pass around skin cancer, the server was slightly lagging, and coffee supply was scarce among the hermits.

Grian was currently hanging out with Mumbo, exploring the new terrain of Season Eight. Mumbo had been talking for a while now about all his ideas for even more lag-machines and their smart people purposes.

Grian spaced out pretty quickly, going into deep thought about the forest they were in- Good wood, good space, and it connected to a desert and was near a village.

"-and- Gri, are you even listening?" Mumbo flicked Grian's ear. "Hello? Grian?"

Grian flinched, rubbing his ear. "Yeah, yeah, I am. You didn't have to flick me though, I was listening .."

"Oh, really? What was I saying then?"

There was silence for a moment, and then; "Yeah no I completely blanked out. Your words sounded stupid."

Grian shoved Mumbo's hand away as he went to flick him again. "Ow- I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Mumbo failed to hide a smile. "Better be. But as I was say-" He stopped a moment and grabbed something off of a rock. "What's this?"

He held it up for a moment, before realizing it was two beaded necklaces. One with simple orange beads and the other one with green ones.

"Hey, Gri, look at these!" Mumbo offered the orange one out to Grian. "We should totally keep these! Here, you have this one!"

However, instead of taking the thoughtful gift, or even acknowledging it, Grian backed up. His eyes went wide at the beads as his expression slowly crippled under the swarm of memories; Before Mumbo could even ask what was wrong Grian instinctively took the beads and chucked them as far as he could.

"DUCK!" He yelled, grabbing Mumbo by the collar and pulling them both into the nearest bush.

"Woah, hey!" Mumbo pushed Grians' hand away. "What was that about?!"

Grian put a hand over his mouth and looked around wildly. He slowly lifted his hand from Mumbo's mouth. "Do you see them?"

"See who? Grian, what is this about? What's wrong?"

"SHHHHH!" Grian whisper-yelled, "Be quiet!"

Louder, Mumbo asked again. "What was that about?"

"Hush!"

"Then explain."

There was silence for a moment, and then a sigh, emitted from Grian. Still whispering, he spoke; "If I tell you, you need to keep quiet- Both right now, and about it."

Mumbo nodded, already intrigued. He pursed his lips together and pretended to lock them before tossing the imaginary key behind his back.

Grian nodded, keeping his voice modestly low and his gaze scattered everywhere. "Let me tell you the story of The Great Seventh Grade Bead Wars..." And with that, he told his story.

"It was seventh grade.. a kid from class had recently returned from some New Orleans trip. As a little class token, he has brought back some of those little plastic bead necklaces for every kid in the class. It was cute- We all liked them and thought they were cool. Pretty innocent, right?"

Mumbo slowly nodded, motioning for him to continue.

"Well, in the beginning, it was. But one day, some kid was fiddling with his necklace. I guess he stretched it too far or something, because it broke and the beads spilled everywhere- Also interrupting the lesson. Now, most of the beads got picked up and thrown out. Most.

It wasn't long after the lesson started up again, that some kid had taken a hidden bead and chucked it across the room- while the teacher's back was turned- and pelted his friend in the side of the head. It hit hard enough that the bead bounced out of reach. Now, we were men then- Us kids knew better than to snitch. No, we knew to get revenge. And luckily so, this kid had his own necklace with several dozen beads on it. So, he quietly broke it, took a fistful of the beads, and hurled them back- Also catching many civilians in the crossfire." Grian took a breath and shuddered at the memory.

It took a moment for him to begin his tale again.

"Needless to say, the war escalated. And war is cruel. Every time the teacher's back was turned, volleys of beads flew across the classroom. No one was safe. Say you were too focused on the lesson and forgot to use your binder as a shield when the teacher turned her back? Well, you'd know you forgot pretty quickly as your head would be pelted with those plastic buggers.."

Grian lifted part of his hair to show some faint marks. "Believe me by these, they hurt. And it only got worse. Alliances were made as factions developed." He paused a beat, "And hence formed the bead economy was. At lunch, valuable food items were bartered for bead supply. A full necklace? Intact? That would set you back at least a twinkie and a can of soda. Betrayal and espionage were rampant. Best friends became sworn enemies."

He paused a moment, drawing some visual representations in the dirt. "Technology thrived: bead catapults were made from rulers. Slingshots were made from elastic bands, pencils, and binder clips. One student managed to engineer a stapler into a spring-charged, loadable bead shotgun."

He looked to Mumbo, dead in the eye. "I kid you not, any direct hit to exposed skin from 3 desks away from that bad boy would leave a mark. But you didn't cry out - You clenched your teeth and fought back the tears; These were the rules to war. It was unspoken that the teacher would eventually find out, but we all intended to drag this out as long as possible.."

A far-off look came over Grian for a moment. "And indeed, that day did eventually come. We had just walked in from recess, only to see the following on the chalkboard:"

Grian rubbed away a patch of dirt and wrote down the fateful words;

I'm not blind or deaf. I know about the bead wars. All beads and bead-launching devices have been confiscated from your desks. If I find any more beads being thrown, the whole class will be in detention for the rest of the month.

He looked at the words again, having them memorized by heart- Some things you just couldn't forget.

He sighed, "Now you see, some resisted. We knew she couldn't have possibly got all the beads. Some still continued to surface on the black market- But it wasn't the same. We knew it was over."

"There is a time to know when to keep fighting to your dying breath, but there's also a time to know when to surrender."

Grian pulled out a necklace from his shirt, containing a single bead. "But I'm a grown man now. I get out of bed every morning and go about my day as if The Great Bead Wars never happened. People smile at me and shake my hand. They don't know what I've been through. They couldn't possibly imagine the burden I carry- The fact that most nights, when it's silent, I still hear the "tic. tic. tic-tic-tic" of a bead bouncing on my 7th-grade classroom tile."

He looked at Mumbo. "But I persist, I have to. If not for me, then for those classmates so many years ago. I may not remember their names, but terrified faces are forced burned into my mind's eye. I don't know where they are now; if they're alive or dead. I don't know if I want to know. All I know is that I will share this unspoken bond with them for the rest of my days."

He was quiet for a moment, signaling the end of the story. "Now you know my story. Take it how you like."

Mumbo was quiet for an extended period. "Grian..?" He finally asked.

"Hm?"

"What's with the bead you have? Is that one from the black market? Or the last-standing bead..?"

"Oh, this?" Grian asked, holding it up. "Oh, no. You have it all wrong Mumbo." He smiled mischievously.

"This is the bead that started it all".