Hello, friends! Curtisimo here! Now, the whole 'Sucked Into Minecraft' genre is pretty stale, right? All the same story; something something Minecraft something something Prophesy something Save The World. Well, I wanted to give it a go. However, I hope to add a little something to make it interesting again! Please, read and enjoy, and if you feel I've done something wonderfully right or horribly wrong, feel free to leave a review!

In a relatively small town somewhere in the middle-ish of America, there lives a boy-man-thing. Not a boy, he was far past that age. Not truly a man either, though he liked to think of himself as one. So, refusing to refer to himself as a 'Teen' which in his mind translated to 'Gross slimy zit-faced thing' he was a boy-man-thing. For our purposes, well call him a Teen though. He won't mind.

This boy was many things; a gamer definitely. He wore his fingers to the bone playing on his computer or console. He was an avid reader, and had recently gotten into writing. He hoped to one day write a comedy TV show, but for now he wrote fan fictions. He was an academic, rarely making bellow an A. He liked to run and ride his bike too, when he felt like doing something.

This teens name was Curtisimo. Yes, that's his real name. Go ahead and laugh. Go on.

Done now?

Well, Curtisimo wasn't his real name, but it was what his close friends called him. Because it sounds sorta cool. And, well, it's a joke too. You kinda had to be there to get it.

One day, Curtisimo was playing a game he loved to death: Minecraft. Though his computer could only barely run it, he adored the game for its sense or triumph whenever he accomplished a feat. He also lived for the 'Look, I did this!' feeling he cot whenever he made something on a multiplayer server and got to show it off. Presently though, he was on his favorite server. He was planning on making a stone tower for his house, and was currently delving into a nearby cave looking for coal. He was having great sucess, as he usually did. While many players just dig to diamond level and mine straight for a mile, he always searched for caves instead. He found strip mining boring and a waste of resources. Besides, he always emerged rich from spelunking adventures.

Fire_Flare11: TC, come check out my Nether Portal. It's acting weird.

TCastro1332: Ok, lemmie just finish this digging then TP me.

And so they did that. Fire_Flare11 was a friend of his he met on the server. They were neighbors-ish. In game, that is.

When he arrived at the portal, it was indeed acting weird. It was green rather than its usual purple, and was making a vaguely vacuum cleaner-like sound.

Fire_Flare11: A weird bug?

TCastro1332: Maybe. Could be a Seeecret Friday?!

Fire_Flare11: IDK. Go in?

TCastro1332: Me first. Don't wanna risk your gear if its a new dimention.

He ran into the portal, his character disappearing inside with a pop which made him jump and yank his headphones off. Strange... his headphones were on the table, but he could still hear the vacuum sound...

These were his last thoughts on Earth, as he was ripped from the universe with a loud crack. His parents were at work, and in the days that followed a four-day manhunt would go underway. No evidence was found, and Curtisimo wasn't seen until a while later.

I woke up in a tree at dusk. I sat up and gasped, eyes wide; he was in Minecraft. The fan fictions he had read, thinking them cheesy, had come true. He was in a cubic world.

This was AWESOME!

Curtisimo was always an easy adapter. Throw Armageddon at him and he'd still be looking for either an upside or a way to thrive. It should then be no surprise that he was taking all this in stride.

My quick, logical mind assessed the situation. A few minutes until dark fell, then I was on my own. I decided to do what I typically did on his first night, assuming typical Minecraft rules still applied. I swiftly punched down a short oak tree and gathered a bit of dirt. I then ran towards the nearest tree and climbed up it, using a combination of jumping skill and dirt placement. I then punched out a little hole in the leaves and squat there. It would be a long, boring night.

A little before midnight, I woke with a start. I had drifted off in my boredom, I guess. I searched around for the source of whatever noise it was that stirred me, prepared to send a hail of insults at it. It wasn't the single zombie that was meandering by the tree, nor the Enderman I could spot leaning against a birch. It was the crack of distant fireworks, which were being set off towards what I quickly surmised was south. Someone was either celebrating or signaling distress; either way, I resolved to head there tomorrow. I had sleeping to do, and planning to do while doing that sleeping.