You walk down the sidewalk with your nose deep in the latest light novel, May I Eat Your Problem Child's Pancreas at the End of the World with my Two Hit Multi-Target Attacks?, only glancing up briefly before crossing the street to check if the pedestrian signal is green.

In the middle of the road something compels you to look (a very rude sense of self-preservation, maybe) and you see it.

Truck-kun. Barreling towards you without a care in the world.

You're clearly visible in the middle of the road, but truck-kun doesn't seem to care.

It's fate, you decide.

You've always wanted to be an isekai protagonist.

You wake up at the back of a bus, slumped and disorientated, not quite used to your new body just yet. You sit up, wondering if you reincarnated into the world of Naruto, or Bleach, or as the villain in your favorite light novel, My Cute Little Sister's Entire Class was Summoned to Another World Except for Me. And then you look down at yourself, and notice that you look rather... plain.

Almost like the first draft of a character.

Well, being a stand in for the audience must mean you're really broken at least, right?

You take a look around the bus, and you see that every seat is taken, sometimes with characters clipping into each other or hovering awkwardly in the aisle. Motionless. Soundless. Eerily still. You can feel the bus moving, hear the driver honking, but you slowly feel dread as you take in the banana in one seat, the well-muscled calico in another, a man that looks suspiciously like Keanu Reeves—

"This can't be happening," you say.

None of the, er, players respond.

You shoot to your feet, stumble unsafely into the aisle, realize why you look so plain.

You are default.

"This is some kind of sick joke," you beg.

None of the players move (almost as if they weren't programmed with animations pre-jump), but you see text appear above one of the players, then rapidly over the heads of the others, thanking bus driver-kun.

"No," you say, as if it will change anything.

The players start to abruptly disappear and you climb weakly over the nearest seat to peer out of the window (kneeing Ninja in the crotch in your desperate struggle, but he doesn't even react) and watch players free fall out of the back of the bus, spread-eagle over a cartoonish hellscape of a world.

You take this in, acknowledge that you were isekai'd into Fortnite, and absolutely refuse to get off the bus.

Unfortunately for you, bus driver-kun doesn't take players past the end of the map. One moment you're curled up in a ball in the aisle praying for the suffering to end and the next you've been ejected out of the back of the bus.

You scream, but no one can hear you.

You fall, limbs tucked in for maximum speed to the ground, hair unmoved as wind whips around you, and you see an imminent second death as the ground closes in.

But you are trapped, and death is not so easy.

Your parachute deploys and you float down, sobbing at the missed chance to end this nightmare. Or it would be worse and your sanity would immediately flee to I Became Max Level Falling in Love with a Pervert that Slimmed Down Her Husband if you dared respawn in a lobby.

You recognize the area as you daintily glide, and you tear uselessly at the indestructible parachute strings as a song starts to play in your head, a meme gone too far...

There is a lake below you with a tiny island in the middle, surely with chests with loot.

The chests, in fact, are not filled with loot, and somehow this fact disappoints you more than anything else.

Someone landed here first, you think, crouched, staring emptily into a non-glowing chest.

Someone who grabbed whatever popped out and booked it.

You are not in the circle, you realize, but can't bring yourself to care.

You stand, loot-less, and try to drown.

You can't do that either.

You do an awkward flail-swimming thing to the land on the other side and emerge perfectly dry. This unsettles you deeply.

You don't know how to build or how to translate button presses to switch weapons into playdough-like hands.

Defeated before you've even begun, you walk up a hill and see two house-like structures that look promising to hide and have a good cry in.

Except you see, wait, hold on, is that Thor?

He's on the left roof, crouching, moving back and forth like you'd materialize a sniper if he stopped. When Thor realizes you are absolutely no threat to him he stops and gives you a thumbs-up, which is kind of nice, at least until you hear a terrible sound behind you. Like a thousand wooden homes being rapidly built at once.

A builder is here.

Thor aims behind you, then decides not to deal with this absurdity happening behind you and dips.

You slowly turn. You see that The Builder has seemingly wasted all the wood on the map to avoid touching the lake, the island, or the hills. You watch, resigned, as they build several mini towers as they approach, stop to peek over the top every other second to make sure you haven't moved, then continue.

You sit on the ground and drop your plastic head in your hands.

You look up again a millennia later when The Builder stops above you, standing on a platform, carefully aiming a missile launcher at your prone form. They also move back and forth.

It takes a while and another floor of protection, but eventually they shoot and you accept the call of the void.

A/N: I've been tormented with enough parodies of Chug Jug with You today that I decided to give back to the community.

Will be deleted at midnight HSI.