"NooOOoOoooo!"

Grian and Mumbo cackled as Scar fell into the pit yet again.

Scar returned to them, as he had twice before. He was dripping wet from the river and looking rather grumpy. "Now listen here, you two hooligans-"

"What?" Grian asked innocently. "I'm just mining coal."

"I have enough problems on the first day without being thrown into the- the Boatem Hole 2.0!"

Mumbo wheezed. "The Boatem Hole- the Boatem Hole 2.0-"

"One more time?" Grian pleaded.

"Oh, fine," Scar said. "I have nothing to lose anyway, just don't touch my hAIR-"

He was pushed into the pit again.

"Okay, we should stop," Grian said, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Probably," Mumbo agreed, chuckling.

"What's up with your hair, anyway?" Grian asked once Scar came back. "And what are you wearing? Are you, like, a matador?"

"Nnnno!" Scar folded his arms indignantly. "I'm not a mattress store! I'm an elf!"

Last Grian and Mumbo had checked, elves did not look like matadors.

"Mattress store? He said matador!" Mumbo's voice was weak from how much he had been laughing.

Scar's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I thought you wouldn't notice. What's a mattress store?"

"A store that sells mattresses," Mumbo answered.

"A matador is a bullfighter," Grian added.

"Well," Scar said. "I am not a matter door. I am an elf. And you two owe me a bunch of cookies for killing me!"

Grian and Mumbo exchanged a glance.

"No," Mumbo said, and pushed Scar back into the pit.