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Having a nice place to finally rest without worries and threats was great and all, however, staying in the hospital for too long meant Grian had ran out of things to do.
Since he was starting to be concious for longer periods of time, he quickly got bored when no one was visiting, and staring at the ceiling wasn’t doing anything, so when he got his phone back he was immensely greatful.
Grian and Scar were both horrified to find the amount of calls and messages from both Mumbo and Skizz, the former having sent six hundred and ninety-three texts and thirty-seven missed calls, most of those with voicemails attatched.
Grian had actually put off listening to the voicemails for some time, as it seemed like such a big task to him fot no apparent reason. However, he decided today was the day he would listen to all of them, as no one was visiting today apart from Scar, who was expected later in the evening.
Grian took a deep breath before clicking on the first voicemail.
“Oh wait- Grian? Grian? Are you there? Oh wait. Oh no. It’s a voicemail. Uh.. uh what do I do??? Skizz??? Help me!”
Grian laughed at the stupidity of his friend. For someone so interested in tech he thought Mumbo would at least know how voicemails work. How does someone who knows what a CPU and motherboard does not know what a voicemail is?
“Yeah buddy? Whassup?” Skizz’s voice could be heard coming from across the room.
“How do voicemails work?” Mumbo sounded like he was panicking, which only made Grian laugh louder.
“Uh you kinda just, you know, speak. Oh and when you’re done you just end the call.”
“O-okay. I guess I’ll start then.” There was a pause as Mumbo cleared his throat.
“Hey Grian, uh… oh uhh… gosh this is harder than I thought it would be uh…”
Grian knew his friend was bad at social interactions. Mumbo had no issue talking to him or Skizz, but somehow had as bad issues talking to a glowing rectangle as he did when talking to customers he was serving.
“P-please pick up the phone…? We’re all missing you. And Skizz is worried. Oh and I’m worried too. Oh and… oh wait uh I think Scar said you were sick or something, so hope you get it better soon!”
There was another pause as Mumbo stopped to take a deep breath in and out, sounding even more nervous than before.
“I think I’m making soup tomorrow. Yeah, I’m making soup - right? I have the ingredients I think.”
There was another pause.
“When I make soup I’ll drop it off again. I don’t know if Scar told you, but I made soup for you and dropped it off the other day-.”
Skizz cut Mumbo off. “Did you know how paranoid this guy was over the container of soup he sent you?”
A small “Hey!” could be heard from Mumbo.
“Dude, the marker ran out so Mumbo couldn’t label his soup and he was so scared that someone would take it and eat it.”
Grian was nearly crying at this statement. His mind formed a mental image of Mumbo hugging a container of soup whilst standing in the corner of a room, looking like an angry cat, which only made him laugh even more.
“Oh gosh how do I end this thing-.“
The voicemail ended. Grian took a minute to recover from his for of laughter before moving on to the next voicemail.
“Hey uh so the other day, I walked past this… old lady trying to carry an oxygen tank up the stairs, and she claimed that uh rats had moved it downstairs?
No idea what that was about but the same old lady came in just now and uh she wanted an exterminator to remove the rats.
Yeah. Uh. Mmm.
Long story short no one believed her and she was escorted out, so uh yeah. Just thought that you should know that.”
There was a long pause.
“Oh wait I haven’t ended it yet-.”
The second voicemail ended. Grian assumed that the old lady was the one who lived a couple houses down from him, since not many elderly people around him owned an oxygen tank. That particular women was known to be a little feisty. He was about to click on the next voicemail when he realised something.
That was old lady was who Jimmy- sorry, Timmy, stole an oxygen tank from.
The next voicemail was made less than five minutes after the one before.
“I forgot to tell you that uh your boyfriend also likes the bamboozlers. Uh huh. Actually, I think he might be more obsessed than me. Oh no uh-.”
There was a thud as Mumbo’s phone was dropped, presumably because he was sweating from the sheer panic he was having whilst recording a voicemail.
The voicemail ended not long after.
Most of the other voicemails just went on about Mumbo’s day and the animals that he treated. One cat in particular had apparently refused to come out of its crate unless Skizz was well out of view. Not to be mean, but they were slightly hard to listen to, since Mumbo had used so many filler words in his sentences.
The last voicemail, however, caught his attention.
“Hey Grian uh… gosh, uh, your boyfriend sent in like a bunch of dogs. No idea where they’re from. Apparently they got caught in a house fire or something. All of them are okay though, thankfully.
Oh! Also Scar said that you’re getting better so I’m going to come around with more soup.”
There was a pause.
“Awh, I forgot what I was going to say. Uh. Um. Mmm. Uh huh. Uh. Oh yeah, I tried to count how many times Skizz blinks in a minute. Did not work. His shirt is so bright that it hurts to look at him. Mm hmm. It’s like brighter than the fluorescent lights here.”
“Hey G!” Skizz’s voice appeared out of nowhere. “Hey Mumbo, the dog owner isn’t picking up her phone, but I think Scar mentioned a dog-sitter? Could you possibly find out their number?”
“Yeah, uh sure. Wait how do I end this again. Awh. Gosh uh. Wait never mind-.”
Grian sighed in relief. He knew Scar wouldn’t hurt the dogs, especially since he had a pet of his own. He knew Scar was a villain. He knew Scar was Ringmaster, a villain feared by many.
But he also knew Scar wasn’t a monster.
Something in Grian seemed to feel at ease, knowing none of Daybreak’s - or even Pearl’s - dogs were hurt.
His mind drifted back to Mumbo, and how he still had six hundred and ninety-three messages to read.
After a while of scrolling through Mumbo’s messages, he finally neared the end of the one-sided conversation. Turns out Skizz had stolen Mumbo’s phone at some point.
<Mumbo> grain
<Mumbo> grain
<Mumbo> grian
<Mumbo> grain
<Mumbo> grian
<Mumbo> are you ghosting me????
<Mumbo> am I not your second favourite person anymore????
<Mumbo> OMG DO YOU HAVE A NEW SECOND FAVOURITE PERSON???
<Mumbo> G MUMBO IS YOUR SECOND FAVOURITE PERSON? WHAT ABOUT ME? AM I YOUR THIRD?? that sucks
Grian laughed at the message. He would have to tell Skizz soon that he did like the both of them equally. Or maybe he could say that if he stopped wearing his weird shirts, he would overtake Mumbo.
“Hey! What are you laughing at?”
Scar stood in the doorway, his signature smile further creasing the wrinkles by his eyes.
“Dude you have got to listen to Mumbo’s voicemails. And read his messages.”