Chapter 1: The Wibbly Way
The spiral didn’t glow anymore.
It… shuffled.
Not a big shuffle.
Not an important shuffle.
A small… fidgety… slightly suspicious…
…shuffly-wuffle.
Boxy blinked.
“I don’t think it’s finished.”
The map wriggled.
Then wiggled again.
Then bent sideways like it had remembered something… and immediately forgotten it.
Pete slowly lifted a sign.
“I DO NOT TRUST THE MAP ANYMORE.”
Gluebert leaned in, adjusting his hat.
“Ah yes,” he said wisely. “Classic map behaviour.”
Boxy looked at him.
“…is it?”
“No,” said Gluebert. “Not at all.”
Boxy took a step forward.
The ground wobbled.
Then wobbled again.
Then tried to wobble sideways.
Boxy wobbled with it.
The trees wobbled.
The air did a small, unsure wobble just to join in.
“…okay,” said Boxy.
He lifted his foot.
ploop.
Put it down.
flump.
Tried again.
The ground dipped, bounced, and did something that felt like a shrug.
“NO THANK YOU,” said Boxy quickly.
Pete pointed at the floor and held up a sign.
“THE GROUND IS BROKEN.”
Gluebert crouched and tapped it with his glue stick.
The ground wobbled.
Boinged.
Then made a noise that sounded a lot like:
“Hmmm.”
Gluebert stood up.
“Well,” he announced, “this is clearly a highly advanced… wibbly terrain system.”
Pete stared at him.
Slowly.
Silently.
Very judgementally.
The map fwished.
The world changed.
Trees burst up with a leafy SPROING!
Vines dropped from above like spaghetti that had made poor decisions.
Leaves flapped into Boxy’s face.
fwap.
“…still fine,” he said.
“WAAAAARK!”
A bright red bird shot past his head.
“WAAAAARK!”
“…less fine.”
They were in a jungle.
A proper one.
Everything moved.
Even things that looked like they had promised not to.
Boxy stepped forward.
The ground wobbled.
He paused.
Just for a moment.
“This doesn’t feel like the other paths.”
“Classic jungle situation,” said Gluebert confidently.
“…is it?” asked Boxy.
“No,” said Gluebert. “But I’m saying it with confidence.”
Pete raised a sign.
“STOP SAYING CLASSIC.”
THUD.
A monkey dropped out of a tree.
It sat up.
Stared.
Opened its mouth.
Very wide.
Very empty.
Very dramatic.
“…oh,” said Boxy.
The monkey pointed at its mouth.
Then at them.
Then at its mouth again.
“Mmmmm.”
It flopped onto its back.
Rolled.
Clutched its stomach.
“Mmmmmmm.”
Pete raised a sign.
“IT IS BEING DRAMATIC.”
The monkey opened one eye.
Nodded.
Then pointed at its mouth again.
“Hungry,” said Boxy.
Bananas appeared.
Loads of them.
Too many.
A slightly worrying amount.
Pete picked one up.
Looked at it.
Looked at the monkey.
Held up a sign.
“HOW MANY.”
The monkey held up a leaf.
A number was scribbled on it.
“Four!” said Boxy.
“Okay! Four bananas!”
Pete counted.
“One…”
The ground wobbled.
“Two…”
A vine gently smacked him in the head.
fwip.
“…still two.”
“Three…”
A banana rolled away.
Pete chased it.
Very seriously.
“Four!”
They handed them over.
The monkey gobbled them.
Clapped.
Then held up another number.
Gluebert stepped forward.
“Stand back! I shall handle this with mathematical precision!”
He raised his glue stick.
“Bananicus Correcticus!”
A banana appeared.
Then another.
Then another.
Then another.
Then ten more.
Then twenty.
Then—
A mountain of bananas.
Gluebert vanished underneath.
From the pile:
“…that was almost right.”
Pete raised a sign.
“IT WAS NOT.”
They tried again.
This time, the monkey held up a leaf.
It said:
0
Boxy blinked.
Gluebert blinked.
Pete calmly placed zero bananas into the monkey’s mouth.
The monkey froze.
Then cheered.
Loudly.
Clapped like it had just saved the jungle.
Gluebert’s voice came from under the bananas:
“I WAS ABOUT TO DO THAT.”
Chaos continued.
At one point:
Boxy gave too many
The monkey celebrated anyway
Gluebert stood up and immediately slipped
FWOMP.
Pete dodged.
Then stepped on a banana.
DONK.
He froze.
Slowly raised a sign.
“THIS PLACE IS AGAINST ME.”
Eventually, the monkey bounced happily and vanished.
A glowing sticker floated down.
The map wobbled.
Pete looked at it.
Then wrote:
“WE DID NOT DO THAT PROPERLY.”
Boxy smiled.
“Yeah.”
Pete added:
“IT STILL WORKED.”
Gluebert climbed out of the bananas.
Covered.
Yellow.
Slightly offended.
“Classic success,” he said.
Pete flipped his sign.
“STOP.”
“HELLO!”
A voice shouted from above.
“HELLO!”
A red parrot puffed up.
“HELLO!”
Gluebert waved.
“Hello!”
The parrot leaned forward.
“HELLO!”
Pete raised a sign.
“IT IS COPYING YOU.”
The parrot shouted:
“IT IS COPYING YOU!”
Pete froze.
Slowly turned his head.
Raised a new sign.
“NO IT IS NOT.”
The parrot screamed:
“NO IT IS NOT!”
Boxy laughed.
Something dropped.
boing… wiggle… bounce…
A spiral snake dangled from a branch.
It twisted.
Wiggled.
Bounced gently in the air.
Pete poked it.
boing.
Again.
boing.
Again.
boing boing boing—
The snake bounced faster.
Then—
SPROING!
It snapped upward.
DONK.
Pete froze.
Slowly raised a sign.
“I CONTINUE TO DESERVE THIS.”
The path wobbled again.
But Boxy didn’t step back.
He reached into his bag.
Cardboard tubes.
String.
Tape.
“Binoculars!” he said.
They made them.
Sort of.
Gluebert got tangled.
Pete refused to help.
Boxy made one slightly wonky.
They used them anyway.
The jungle came alive.
Rustling.
Blinking.
Watching.
Something waved.
Something hid.
Something blinked twice and pretended it hadn’t.
Pete turned the binoculars around.
Looked again.
Paused.
Raised a sign.
“BETTER.”
They walked.
Slower now.
Listening.
Looking.
The jungle wasn’t loud.
It was busy.
Alive.
Unpredictable.
Boxy stopped.
Looked at the path.
Then the map.
Then his feet.
“This isn’t like before.”
Gluebert nodded.
“Yes. Less… organised.”
Pete wrote:
“LESS CLEAR.”
He paused.
Looked at the wobbly path for a long moment.
Then added:
“I LIKED IT WHEN THE MAP KNEW WHAT IT WAS DOING.”
Boxy looked at him.
Then at the path.
It wobbled slightly.
Like it wasn’t sure either.
“…okay,” said Boxy.
He took a step.
The ground wobbled.
He wobbled.
But he didn’t stop.
“…we’ll figure it out.”
Behind them, a sticker floated onto the map.
The spiral shifted.
Not wrong.
Just… growing.
Pete looked at it.
Then wrote:
“IT IS STILL MAKING IT.”
Gluebert adjusted his hat.
“Of course it is.”
Boxy smiled.
“Good.”
He squonked.
And kept going.