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Published:
2026-01-06
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So many chickens!

Summary:

Mumbo has never laid an egg before.
Now he has.

---

Wow. These are, a lot of chickens!
(Cub is a bad influence.)

 

Or: Mumbo's chicken situation with my Mumbo species headcanons.

Work Text:

Well.

 

If he had known this would happen, he wouldn't have spent the, admittedly insubstantial (but it's the principle), time searching for the four chicken and building an egg farm.

He's not used to this, but he isn't used to this new body either, so.

...

Gosh, what was he saying!

He's not even sure if this thing has the potential of life! Oh gosh... was he a dad now? He's too young to be a dad! He's not even started his (third) puberty! Or has he? Was this part of Chicken puberty? Avian puberty? But then again, Grian didn't seem to have this problem. But Grian's a Parrot, so maybe it is just Chickens.

If this does carry a baby (oh gosh, he's not prepared for that at all!!!) would it even be sentient? (And if it was, would it even hatch if he just, didn't throw it, didn't place it on the ground to do so on it's own? (Could he let it despawn?)) Would it be a simple chicken or a Chicken hybrid? Would he even be able to tell? He knew that normally hybrids got born as hybrids but he was a chicken for a solid few months before growing into a Chicken hybrid-

 

Breath.

 

Ok.

 

...

 

-No. Nope. No.

-no, scratch that. Not ok.

All the unanswered questions swirling in his head made him swindly as well. He'd need to find answers to them, fast, before the (possible) baby hatched.

He regreted using a chicken already. There were no other Chickens on the server he could ask, nor was anyone else he knew one.

He stared at the object with abject horror still on his face before making a decision.

 

---

 

The decision to ignore the problem wasn't holding up as well as he'd hoped.

 

---

 

"'Morning Xisuma, how's it going?" He prayed (to god or whoever else would listen) that the sheer panic (that he unfortunately wasn't able to shake off during the resource gathering and zombie spawner finding like he had the elevated heart and respitory rate) wasn't audible in his voice.

But god was dead and it was Mumbo who suffered every concequence of that.

To distract he launched right into another subject after X fixed his audio, "I actually just wanted to pop over and ask..." but after a bit of clearing out of the zombie spawner, Xisuma asked him what's wrong.

And Mumbo? He just gave up on not acknowledging the egg. He presented it to the admin.

"An egg? Mate, you don't have to be scared of an egg." The older man raised an eyebrow as he examined the object, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

"I don't know, can you just... check it's data? You can do that, right? You're the admin."

Mumbo heard the sigh even through the distortion the helmet overlayed Xisuma's voice with, but he could also see his friend's eyes begin to glow behind the visor. "It's just an egg, mate. Normal, everyday, minecraft item. You throw it, one in eight times, out pops a chicken."

At those words Mumbo could feel all the tension in his muscles that he knew had been there melting away and the breath he knew he had been holding release as well.

"Whoa! Does this really matter this much to you?" Xisuma glanced between the man and the object he was holding.

 

Weakly, Mumbo flared one of his new, white, wings. "I was looking through my inventory when- it just popped into existence."

 

 


 

 

The weeks went on and, well, he just built a sorting system! Also, his inventory is really full!

He just doesn't have the capacity to pick up every little egg he leaves behind!

Give him a break, jeez!

 

---

 

[Cub is a bad influence.]

 

"My chickens are definetly... not in my, my chicken farm." They both chuckle at the ridiculousness that comes with the visual. It looke like a chicken-bomb had exploded in Mumbo's base. "I'm not entirely sure what to do about it."

 

"At this point in time, I feel like-" a small pause to quelm the clucking.

"I feel like it's gotten to the point where, I should probably do something, like, with these chickens as opposed to just walking along and killing them, but this seems to be a problem that'll follow me through the rest of the season as well."

 

They banter a bit before the idea takes bloom.

 

"-Animal relocation, or send them to a- to a field far away."

'That's true.' He thinks. "That's true," he says, "Yeah, I could actually just move them into someone else's base. That's not a terrible idea-" 

The idea didn't even need a second to sink in to take hold. "That's not a terrible idea at all!"

 

---

 

The logistics were worked out and gosh, was this going to be great.

 

"What in tarnation has happened over here?"

 

"Don't even go there, Scar, but you're- ha!- you're about to find out."

"Was Grian out last night with his chicken friends, or what?" No actually, it was just Mumbo not having a storage system yet and being too lazy to pick up his stuff.

"Don't worry about it." The two coconspirators say.

 

"We'll be back in a bit. We'll be back in a bit."

 

They gather up more if the chickens and Scar says "I mean, that these are-these are good hearty chickens that could provide a lot."

"I'm glad you like them!"

 

"Mumbo, is your chicken dispenser still working? Because, um, that's how I get food these days."

"Well, it's working arguably too well." 'Which one?' Mumbo had impulsively wanted to ask, but that was a bit too out of pocket. "It is working arguably too well." He reaffirms his choice of words.

"That's actually a good thing, because that's how- that's how I eat. Thank you!"

 

---

 

"He's gonna be thrilled."

"He's gonna be so happy!"

 

---

 

"Oh, oh!"

"Oh there he is!"

"I figured- Hello? Whoa, what is that UFO hanging off that ghast?" Is what he hears Scar say while he's inserting the Lava Chicken disk into the Jukebox.

"Hello, Scar!" The riders of the afore mentioned ghast call to the one on the ground.

"Welcome! To- whatever this is!" He can not stop the clucking this time.

He swings himself off the edge off Ghast to clip the leads. "You're a big fan of the chickens?"

"Could be a fan of the chickens."

He opens his wings to slow his fall, aaand he was too distracted interacting with his friend to actually cut them loose.

"Dude you get- they're pooping everywhere man."

"Yeah, they've dropped so many eggs, Cub!" He imforms the other half of the the team behind this plan.

'Actually...' he dumps his own eggs in the pile, 'might as well.'

 

After a bit of coodrination failure, they finally get the chickens de-leaded.

 

"Oh! It does work!"

All the chicken are spreading out, within moments.

"No, no, nonono! You guys just left them all here! Wait! Wait! What in tarnation?"

 

---

 

"How in the world did this even happen, Mumbo?" Scar shouts from where he is standing, in the middle of the flock of white. In his hands wheat seeds.

They're a luscious green. Well- the sprouts are. The actual seeds are this absolute gorgeous, warm, golden shade of brown.

And he can feel his mouth watering

 

What?

 

Oh gosh he's never had to deal with this! (That's a lie, it's a miracle and a half that Mumbo can replant his wheat field, let alone expand it.)

 

Before he can even think of thinking of the best way to explain, he's already falling off his ghast's harness and rocketing towards Scar and the ground.

"Mumbo!" "Agh!"

 

His wings push out from the haphazard flaps he had cut into the back of his suit before the season, and slow his decent.

 

'Well. One way to tell is to show.' He thinks after he landed, decidedly not looking at Scar or his hands or the item those hands hold. Thank gosh he ended up just beside the man. If he had landed on top of the other he probably wouldn't have been able to stop himself.

 

He doesn't pull the (extra? (They feel like they've been there his entire life.)) limbs back this time.

 

"Whoa! You're a Chicken? I didn't know that!" Scar swaps through his hotbar in thought, letting the chickens disperse once again. "How come I didn't know that?"

Cub immediatly leashes the ghast to a pole again and falls to the ground to join them, taking a bit of fall damage. "Since when?"

 

"Oh, you know... end of season ten?" Mumbo reveals.

 

Both Vexes blink.

"Oh! Right!" Scar chimes, "... you told us! Oh my! We totally forgot!"

 

"I did do that." For a moment, even Mumbo himself had forgotten, so he's not really in a position to blame the other two.