“What the FUCK, I fucking hate you, you bastard, is this your idea of a fucking JOKE, I’m going to murder you, you—”

Turning the boat around hasn’t worked the past several times he’s tried it, but maybe it’ll work this time?

“Hi, uh, Tommy, you’re going the wrong way? You just turned towards L’Manberg, and Paramin’s taking us on a vacation away from L’Manberg. I can help with directions if you got turned around!”

“Thanks Ghostbur,” Tommy mutters, and turns them back around to be following Paramin. 

"Those... are some thoughts. Glad we're at an understanding. Because you're not going to murder me, we're friends, Tommy!" She continues rowing.

“We’re not FUCKING friends, Paramin, you just fucking exiled me and blew up my vacation home, this is your fault, ohhhhhh I hate you so much.”

"Look, Tommy, I'm glad you're finding ways to cope but you burned down George's house! You shouldn't have done that. Honestly, this is for your own good."

“How is it FOR MY OWN GOOD. You EXILED ME.”

"Vacation. And look! We're here now." The shore rises in the distance, chunks popping into view covered in trees and sand.

“When can I— when can I go back, I want to go back, L’Manberg’s, like— I mean, it’s my home, man.”

"This is your new home, Tommy! Look, lots of trees for building - I'll help you get started." She starts chopping down some oak.

“No! This isn’t, this isn’t my home, I don’t want to live here, my home is L’Manberg, I’m not staying here. Fuck you.” He doesn’t get back in the boat, though, just paces on the shore. 

“It’s okay, Tommy, it’s just a vacation, remember? We can make a little vacation home for you, and then you can go back to L’Manberg!”

“Auuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhhhhh. I don’t want a fucking vacation home, I want— Tubbo said that he’d, that he was— is this shock, am I in shock? Is this what shock feels like?”

"Didn't Tubbo exile you? Why would you listen to him? I'm your friend after all. And Ghostbur agrees! Go ahead and strip these logs, will you?"

“Ohhhhhh fuck you, fuck you, fuck you—”

“Sure, no problem!” Logs: stripped. 

"You don't mean that. Be like Ghostbur." She thinks for a moment, then digs a hole and gestures. "Oh, and put your inventory in the hole."

“What? No! They’re my things! Why would I do that?”

“Okay! Here’s my seeds, here’s my gunpowder, here’s my eggs, here’s my flowers…” 

“No, no, Ghostbur, don’t—don’t give her all your things, you don’t have to, they’re not her things—”

“Here’s my twenty-nine trapdoors, here’s my sea lanterns, here’s my fishing rod, and here’s my picture of Alex Quackity. That’s all!”

"Oh, I'm not taking them." She holds up a TNT block. "Just destroying them. So you don't hurt yourself by accident, that's all - besides, a clean start's good for you. Into the hole now, Tommy."

“Or what? They’re my things, I’m not going to give you all my things!”

She flips from the TNT to a lapis-encrusted crossbow that shimmers menacingly.

Tommy pulls his axe out. It’s not enchanted, but it’s diamond, at least. Two can play at that game, bitch.