Cheer. I have not written for a really long time. Again. I am too busy. No I'm not, I'm just lazy.

Anyways, I just realized that I had three pages of reviews. That's a sort of long way from when I started, I guess. Ack screw nostalgia for the moment. Some responses to guest reviews:

To FalenOfTheForest: Yeah, modern comedy is a lot of that, I think. Or maybe it was a specific comedy. I dunno. Anyways, thanks for reviewing, Falen! Or should I say, Grank?

To Mr. Lolz (aka hahahahahahahaha)

Uh…sure. Just…..don't laugh too much. You're gonna bust a lung or something.

I can't think of anything to say. To the story!

It was still still, if that made any sense at all.

Steve was still propped up against the flank of the beast. He found it rather warm and squishy, somehow very comfortable. He knew pigs weren't this squishy-feeling. He'd never leaned against a sheep before, but he'd felt them through flying fists, and they didn't feel half as soft as the thing he was leaning against. Even the beds he depended on to pass the time until morning were harder than this; he'd noticed that they sounded like cobblestones when trod on.

The pig grunted.

Steve froze. He slowly reached for another apple.

The pig got up.

Steve jumped away from the flank of the pig and aimed an apple. With luck, it would disable the pig-thing long enough for him to escape.

The pig turned around to face him.

Steve threw the apple. He knew its potency came from the apple itself, like a Potion of Poisoning or Harming, so his throw wasn't quite powerful enough. It bounced on the ground a few feet in front of the pig.

The pig thing advanced to eat the apple.

Steve drew breath in sharp fear. The pig thing had gotten closer. Oh bad oh bad oh bad stupid stupid stupid.

The pig thing ate the apple with a crunch.

Steve slowly backed away as the apple got smaller. When it was gone completely, the pig thing looked up at Steve, who wasn't quite far enough from it.

The pig stumbled forward a couple feet.

Steve backed away a couple feet.

The pig trotted forward another couple of feet, looking expectant.

Steve backed away a couple of feet, looking scared.

The pig gave a squeal, and Steve gave a scream, expecting the pig to charge and…well, do whatever fearful thing sharp tusks did to a screaming Steve. But instead, the pig sat back on its hind legs and sort of panted, in a manner most familiar.

Steve's eyes widened. The pig was acting just like a tamed wolf. Only wolves didn't do much but turn to look at you when sitting down.

He noticed it was looking expectantly at him and his apples. Steve let another apple drop. The pig trotted forward and proceeded to eat it.

Steve dropped another apple, now fascinated by this game he was playing, but the pig merely looked at it, then looked up at him and grunted. Somehow, Steve understood that the pig was now full. But then what? Steve was one who rode and killed pigs, not tame them and feed them! Of course, he occasionally gave some wheat to regenerate their numbers in a particularly pig-massacred area, and used carrot-on-a-stick to guide them when riding them, but still! Pigs were basically slaves, entities with no mind or emotion that were to be exploited for their meat. Pigs weren't supposed to be like wolves!

Like always, when faced with a Minecraftian paradox, Steve's head started hurting. So he walked over to the river, some ways away, and with the pig-thing (Steve was debating the credibility of its name) still following him. Steve did not know about pinching oneself to check if they were dreaming, as he did not fully understand sleep yet, so he closed his eyes, attempted to open the menu, and then Save and Quit to Title. When he opened his eyes again, believing that he had saved and reset, the pig was still there. Steve did not know how to react to this. Ordinarily, any glitches or bugs would've been debugged by saving and going back to the title page, but this glitch seemed defiant of Minecraftian logic. In human computing terms, it was a particularly large glitch.

Then Minecraftian logic struck again. Ah, this must be a mod! thought Steve. That would solve every problem. Some lunatic had made this mod, and the Player had downloaded it, and now that was were Steve was. Of course, Steve thought to himself, frowning, this didn't quite answer why the Player didn't seem present.

Steve's response? He fainted. His Minecraft-accustomed brain couldn't handle the shock of such life-changing Updates any longer.

The boar waited faithfully.

Yup, that's the end. I just used a lot of space on formatting! Yay! GIOJE3IJWIOEFJIAOWEJFIOj I am losing my touch, aren't I? I need to write more…

Sorry about the long lapse. Hope you actually liked this chapter