Gramble had been living on the beach with nothing but sauce for weeks, hunger gnawing at his insides, sleep deprivation corroding the inner workings of his mind. He'd heard about Bugsnax leaving behind residue, ranging from streaks of vanilla icing to splinters of chips, all of it in pieces and crumbs. But was it enough that he could survive by eating these leftovers? Would it transform his body the same way eating whole Bugsnax would? More importantly, was consuming these morsels something he could ethically do without it weighing heavily on his conscience?

Moaning and staggering through the bushes, the rancher doubled over with his arms around his midsection. He hadn't slept in days. Two days, three, how long had it been? How long since he'd last eaten something? How long had he been living on this grumping island?

One day bled into the next, losing track of time on the shores of insanity. His sleepwalking became a nocturnal hunt, tracking down bits of pancakes drenched in syrup, the vicious liquid dripping from his paws as he fell to his knees and hastily consumed the tender food scraps. Distantly he was aware of his actions, staring at the stains on his fur and screaming.

What were they becoming on this island? Monsters. The word echoed off the inside of his skull, shattering the last of his sanity. Monsters, they were all monsters. He was no better. But then he stopped, the anguished howls caught in his throat. His body was still the same as it was before consuming the remains he found amongst the rocks. Was this... could it be the answer?

.oOo.

Buddy ventured out onto the sands at dawn, accompanied by the less than confident Filbo Fiddlepie. The latter had simply wanted a break from Beffica's toxicity, while the former was continuing his search for the wayward Grumpuses. They hadn't gone far when a low rustling drew their attention.

Turning their gaze towards the eastern shores, they watched as Gramble stumbled out of the bushes, his face smeared with streaks of fruity goop, his paws coated in syrup. His fur was matted with bits of Bugsnax, odd clumps sticking out at various angles, and yet his body remained whole. However, the same could not be said of his mind.

Shuffling and grunting like a wild animal, Gramble drew closer to the bewildered pair of Grumpuses. All the while he kept chanting, over and over, "Berry bush, berry bush, berry bush, berry bush, berry bush, berry bush, berry bush."

Stopping and sniffing the air, the disheveled rancher spied a pack of frightened Razzbys fleeing for cover amongst the palm trees. "Oh my grump, look at this!" he gleefully shouted. "There's a bunch of berries, berries, berries, berries, berries!"

Buddy took a step back, troubled by Gramble's ragged appearance and bizarre sing-song voice.

"Uh, Gramble, you feeling okay there, pal?" Filbo questioned, moving to distance himself from the sticky Grumpus.

Gramble reacted to their presence by picking up a piece of driftwood and running towards them, screaming, "Berries, berries, give us the berries!"

He swung the driftwood at the nearest Grumpus, which happened to be Buddy since he had ventured further onto the beach than his companion. Buddy was quick to dodge, leaping back and staring in horror at the sight before him.

"Do you have some berries, berries, berries, berries, berries?" Gramble asked, shuffling along like a zombie, the driftwood firmly clenched in his paws. A trickle of saliva dripped and ran down his chin, dampening the torn fabric of his sweater. "I'd like some berries, berries, berries, berries, berries."

"Why are you trying to kill us?!" Buddy exclaimed, dodging another swing of the rotting wood. Incomprehensible shouting followed this question, the mad rancher twitching and preparing for his next attack.

"Cuz you don't give us berries! Give us the berries!" This time the driftwood struck the sand, sending up a flurry of splintered fragments. "Berries, berries, give us the berries!"

"Us?" A distant flicker of light caught his attention, and Filbo looked towards the rocky outcrops bordering the beach. This one moment, seemingly suspended in time, flooded him with absolute horror when he realized the flash he'd seen was the sunlight glinting off Floofty's goggles.

The plum-furred Grumpus was seated on one of the beach chairs overlooking the water, their paws steepled, looking for all the world like a sinister James Bond villain.

"Yes, my faithful minion," Floofty droned, a vicious sneer curling their lip. "Bring me the berries at once so that I may continue my research."