Get a Job, Creep

by Greyson Mann

  Let me tell you, life is just getting more unfair by the second.

  I came home this morning to complain to Dad about it, but you know what I found when I walked through the door?

  Mom was SINGING. It doesn’t happen very often, but when it does, everything STOPS. The ground rumbles. Glass shatters. Pete the Parrot squawks. And poor Sticky had his tentacles stuck to his ears.

  When I asked Mom if she could take it down a notch, I noticed something. Her teeth were BLACK as gunpowder. She looked so creepy, I jumped sky-high.

  When I worked up the courage to look Mom in the face and ask her about it, she said she was celebrating record sales of her new TOP-selling product: Charcoal Tooth-Whitening Powder.

  Say WHAT now?

  Mom showed me how many bottles she had sold already. “It’s flying out of my case,” she said. She smiled wide with those coal-black teeth. YIKES.

  I guess some online ad has been telling mobs that they can get “300 percent whiter teeth” by using the stuff. But what I want to know is, how can something BLACK make your teeth WHITE? I mean, mobs might as well be spending their emeralds on gunpowder! At least you can make FIREWORKS out of that.

  So I’m trying to go to sleep now, but I keep picturing Mom with her scary black teeth. Even Sticky is sleeping with one tentacle covering his eyes, like he can’t bear to look. And I had to throw a blanket over Pete’s birdcage to quiet him down after all that singing and squawking.

  I sure hope I don’t have daymares of Mom, looking like an undead mob with black, rotten teeth. (Of course, now that I’m thinking about it, I WILL.)

  And how am I supposed to come up with my next genius sales idea if I can’t get any decent SLEEP???

  YES!!! Genius strikes again!!! And I have a horrible daymare to THANK for it!

  I dreamt that a zombie pigman was chasing me across the schoolyard, trying to hit me with its sword. Except it WASN’T a sword. It was a ginormous bottle of Charcoal Tooth-Whitening Powder. And it wasn’t a zombie pigman. It was MOM, with a gaping black hole where her mouth used to be. YIKES!!!

  When she threw the bottle at me, it exploded, and I was COVERED in black powder. Except it wasn’t tooth-whitening powder—it was GUNpowder. And then Chloe was next to me with this evil grin, and she started striking flint against steel. She was trying to light me on fire!

  That’s when I exploded. Except instead of just falling to pieces in a cloud of gunpowder, I shot sky-high. I was flying—with Elytra Wings. And all the gunpowder that was raining down on the Overworld turned into FIREWORKS—beautiful, colorful fireworks.

  When I woke up, I had this HUGE smile on my face. There’s nothing better than when a daymare turns into the best dream EVER.

  And the best IDEA ever.

  See, it came to me just like that—my next sales idea. I’m going to sell FIREWORKS!!!

  I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. I mean, I’m really GOOD at making fireworks. I even have a medal to prove it from the Overworld Games last year. And the Fourth of July is coming, so mobs will be ALL OVER my fireworks stand.

  If Chloe hasn’t used up all the gunpowder Dad stores in the garage, I can start making fireworks RIGHT NOW. And maybe even have some tonight to sell!

  Who needs sleep?

  Not THIS genius creep!!!

  DAY 21: FRIDAY

  Okay, my eyes are drooping shut as I write this. I might fall asleep face first in my journal. But I GOTTA try to get some of this down, because when I’m rich and famous, I’ll look back on last night and write speeches about it and stuff. “The Moment It All Turned Around,” I’ll call it. And my speeches will inspire little creepers everywhere NEVER to give up on their dreams.

  But back to yesterday. See, I DID stay up all day making fireworks. I made long ones. Fat ones. Striped ones. Fireworks that twinkle. Fireworks that explode in the shape of a star. Fireworks that explode in the shape of a CREEPER!

  I’d learned how to do ALL of that during the Overworld Games. Sometimes, a creeper’s just gotta fall back on what he KNOWS, and then watch the emeralds pour in . . .

  By the time I got to the mall last night, I was pushing a minecart FULL of fireworks. And all those other mobs trying to sell their goods saw me coming from a mile away, let me tell you.

  Willow’s eyes got wide. Sam bounced over to see what was up. Ziggy even left his baby mobs unattended while he staggered over to see my cart—until a baby Enderman started crying and teleported OUT of the pen.

  Chloe looked especially suspicious. I’ll bet my Evil Twin was mad she hadn’t used up the last of the gunpowder from the garage. Because who was going to buy her boring old gunpowder now, when they could buy firework rockets STUFFED with gunpowder?

  Mobs lined up to see what kind I had. Even grown-up mobs stopped by to pick up fireworks for their kids for the Fourth of July.

  As the emeralds poured in, I had to kick myself a couple of times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I mean, I WAS really tired. And it’s possible I fell asleep a couple of times in between customers. But it was ALL worth it when I counted my earnings.

  WOOT-WOOT!

  And I deserve every single one of those emeralds. I mean, I’ve been working REALLY hard. It’s about TIME some of that started paying off, right?

  (Sorry—drool spot here. I’m SO tired!!!)

  I’m going to bed now. And when I wake up tonight, I’m gonna celebrate with Pete. Because really SOON, my bird and I are going to be flying side by side.

  Those Elytra Wings have my name written ALL over them.

  And I know exactly what I’m going to dream about today.

  DAY 23: SUNDAY

  WHEW!!!

  No time to write. No time to rap. All I’ve been doing is work, work, WORK.

  It took me all of Saturday night to make more fireworks. It didn’t help that Chloe used up the gunpowder—or at least STOLE it out of the garage so I couldn’t use it.

  But I have a secret weapon. See, I can be SUPER annoying. I know how to push my Evil Twin’s buttons to make her explode on the spot (the creeper has a seriously short fuse). PRESTO! Then I just grab the broom and dustpan, and sweep up the gunpowder. Which makes Chloe mad enough to blow up again (giving me DOUBLE the payout).

  When Chloe finally caught on to me and stormed out of the house, I decided to hang out with my baby sister, Cammy. That baby explodes when she’s mad but ALSO when she’s HAPPY. Or laughing. Or surprised. Or really excited. That’s pretty much why we call her the Exploding Baby.

  After I rapped and made her baby dolls dance, she blew up with laughter—and donated to my gunpowder stash too. SCORE!!!

  After all that quality sister time, I holed up in the garage to work. I even tried to make myself blow up once or twice, just to eke out a little more gunpowder. But like I said, I’m not really the exploding kind of creeper. So I decided to stick to what I know best and just finish up those fireworks.

  Then last night, I hauled them to the mall and prepped for ANOTHER stellar night of sales. I was SURE I’d be able to buy my Elytra Wings after just one more night.

  But then I happened to sneak a peek at Willow’s chalkboard sign as I passed, and what she’d written was a real shocker, let me tell you.

  Well, I’m no DUMMY. I knew exactly what she was doing. She was piggybacking off my sales! For every firework rocket I sold, she tried to sell a potion of fire resistance too. “Just in case a firework blows up unexpectedly,” she told a mob who had bought one of my rockets. And “So you don’t lose any fingers,” she told another. Or “To keep your children SAFE,” she told a zombie mother.

  Well, talk about SCARING OFF customers. One mob mother was heading my way, until she overheard Willow’s sales pitch. Then she turned right around and headed to buy potions instead.

  ARRRGGGHH!!!

  I marched over to Willow and told her to STOP, but she went on and on about how she was just “filling a customer need” now that I was putting all those dangerous fireworks out into the Overworl
d. Then she had the nerve to say that I should buy some of her potion of fire resistance, too. “You know, just in case something blows up in your stand,” she said.

  AS IF I would ever give her a single emerald for her potions. Willow must have known I wasn’t buying her line, because she said maybe we should just make a trade—one firework rocket for one of her bottles of fire resistance.

  “Ah, no thanks,” I said. But now I know the TRUTH. Willow secretly WANTS one of my rockets! And guess what? She’s not going to get one. Not if she keeps scaring away my customers with her fire-safety warnings.

  So GAME ON, Willow. Tonight, I’m pulling out all the stops. I’m bringing Pete the Parrot to lure in customers. I’m going to GIVE AWAY free hot chocolate. And my best idea yet? I’m going to fight fire with fire—fireWORKS, that is.

  I’m going to give customers a DEMO of my fireworks. I’ll light up one of those rockets and send it through the sky right over the mall. That way, NO ONE will listen to Willow’s warnings. They’ll be too WOWED by my fireworks show!

  GENIUS. Pure genius. Sometimes a big-ideas guy even wows HIMSELF.

  DAY 24: MONDAY

  DO. NOT. ASK.

  Don’t ask me what those black smudges are all over the page.

  Don’t ask me why the corner of my journal is burned to a crisp.

  Don’t ask me how the fireworks show went.

  Just DON’T, okay?

  Because I mean, if you did, then I’d have to tell you how the rocket that I lit went straight up in the air. And came straight back down. And landed in my stash of other firework rockets.

  I’d have to tell you how it BURST into flames. And lit all those other rockets on fire. And lit my STAND on fire.

  I’d have to tell you how my stand burned to a crisp, right in front of my eyes. And took all my hopes and dreams with it.

  And I’d have to tell you that Pete the Parrot is GONE. He flew the coop when all those fireworks went off. And it’s ALL MY FAULT.

  Oh, Pete, old buddy, old pal. Did you get hurt? Did you fly away? WHERE ARE YOU???

  I looked in Ziggy’s babysitting stand. I looked under every minecart in the mall parking lot. I walked around the WHOLE mall. But there was no sign of my bird. Not a single feather.

  So now I’ve got NOTHING. No fireworks. No stand. No rapping parrot.

  Nothing but Sticky the Squid, who is staring at me, wondering what I’m going to do next.

  Oh, and now I’ve got a pile of emeralds for my piggy bank that I was GOING to use to buy Elytra Wings. But what good are wings if I don’t have a parrot to fly with?

  “Are you gonna buy a new parrot?” Sam texted me this morning.

  SERIOUSLY???

  I mean, what does Sam think? That I can just waltz down to Critters Unlimited and replace Pete with another bird? Maybe I should go to the mall and buy a new BEST FRIEND too. That’s what I wanted to say. But I tried to pull it together. I mean, the slime was probably trying to be nice.

  I guess there are just some things emeralds can’t buy. Add THAT to Dad’s list of brilliant sayings.

  Now, all I have left of Pete is the rap video we made when I first brought him home. So excuse me while I go watch that again for like the trillionth time.

  Oh, and if you hear a sniffle or two, don’t say a word. It’s probably just Sticky, who has been missing his buddy Pete. And I don’t care what anyone says—it’s perfectly OKAY for squid to cry.

  DAY 25: TUESDAY

  MAN. Just when a creep thinks things can’t get any worse.

  Get this: Chloe came home from the mall this morning, and she says Willow and Sam are MAD at me. Even Ziggy Zombie is mad at me (and I’m pretty sure that’s a first).

  WHY are they mad, you ask? Well, that’s a really good question. That’s what I asked too. So Chloe went right ahead and told me.

  I guess my fireworks show “alerted” the grown-ups to what was going on in the Mob Mall parking lot. Some Enderman came to the parking lot and shut down the rest of the stands. The Enderman said that the kids didn’t have PERMITS to sell that stuff, and that it could be dangerous for them to be out there like that.

  REALLY???

  So Chloe says my friends are mad at ME for drawing attention to their market. They blame me for all the emeralds that they’re NOT going to earn over the rest of the summer. And she said Sam is especially upset because now he won’t earn enough for his new tablet.

  Well, I pointed out to Chloe that if Sam and Willow hadn’t been traitors and set up their own stand, I wouldn’t have had to sell fireworks in the first place. We’d still be the only stand in the parking lot, and we’d have ALL those emeralds for ourselves.

  But Chloe didn’t want to hear it. I guess she’s siding with the rest of them.

  FINE. I don’t need friends. Just add them to the list of everything else I lost this summer.

  Pretty much the only mob who understands (besides Sticky) is Mom. Turns out, she got burned with her business, too. Mobs started complaining that the Charcoal Tooth-Whitening Powder was staining their teeth BLACK. (Well, DUH. I could have told them that.) And they all want their emeralds back. Poor Mom is having to shell out her OWN emeralds just to satisfy the line of crabby mobs at the front door.

  She’s out back right now, burning the rest of her charcoal powder. I guess she figured if she can’t sell it, she might as well burn the trash with it. So Mom’s business went up in smoke, just like mine.

  I’d go out and roast marshmallows over her fire, except I’m not hungry. Not even sort of, which is pretty weird for a creeper like me.

  I tried playing some Humancraft, but even freaking out all those tiny humans in my videogame didn’t make me feel better.

  I guess I’m what they call DEPRESSED. And there’s no cure.

  Except Pete the Parrot.

  I’m leaving my window open, just in case he comes home. I’m going to sit here and stare out that window for as long as it takes. Why not? I mean, what else does a friendless, jobless, parrot-less creep have to do?

  So I had a glimmer of hope just now.

  Yup, it flew right through my window on a gentle breeze.

  I looked up from my pillow, and I SWEAR I saw Pete flapping his wings and heading toward my bed.

  But . . .

  . . . it turned out to be a piece of burned paper from Mom’s firepit.

  Story of my life. I hope for one thing, and instead I get a big old piece of TRASH.

  So I’m starting to think it’s time to throw my hope in the trash pit and let it burn. Time to face facts. Because here’s the thing:

  Pete’s not coming home.

  EVER.

  DAY 26: WEDNESDAY

  PETE CAME HOME!!!

  YAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!

  Well, Sam and Willow BROUGHT him home.

  At first, I thought Willow had been hiding him all along, just to get back at me for outselling her potions with my fireworks. But Sam said they’d found Pete hopping around the Mob Mall parking lot when they went back to take down their stands. And Sam’s not a slime who makes stuff up.

  “He has a burned wing, see?” Sam said, lifting one of Pete’s wings.

  Pete’s wing looked just fine to me (thank Golem). When I said so, Willow shrugged and said she’d used one of her potions of healing on it.

  Well, that was pretty nice of her I guess. I told her thanks, and then the three of us sat around all awkward like. I mean, there’s not much to say after you’ve been trying to outsell and outsmart each other all summer long.

  Finally I mumbled, “Sorry about your stand getting shut down and all.” I figured it was the least I could say, after they’d brought home my bird.

  I thought Sam would tell me not to worry about it, because he’s the kind of slime that bounces back after disappointment. But he didn’t. He melted into one of his sad mopey pools.

  Willow’s the one who said, “Sam worked REALLY hard to get enough emeralds for that tablet, Gerald. And he got pretty close too.” />
  Well, SHOOT. What did she want me to do? Pat the slime on the back? I’d worked hard, TOO. Was it MY fault that some grown-ups have nothing better to do than go around shutting down stands and spoiling kids’ fun?

  “Yes, it’s absolutely, totally your fault.” That’s what Willow would have said if I’d argued. So I stuck with saying “sorry” again.

  But SHEESH. I’d just gotten Pete back, and now my friends were really harshing my mellow.

  When Sam and Willow finally left, I hugged on Pete for a while—you know, until he squawked. Then we celebrated his homecoming with a new rap, one I made up right there on the spot.

  THIS time, Pete got the words right. So I guess that means HE’s happy to be home too.

  DAY 27: THURSDAY

  It’s funny how EVERYTHING can change in a single night. Sometimes it goes from good to bad. (Like the night my fireworks stand exploded and ended up closing down all my friends’ businesses, too. OOPS.) Other times it goes from bad to good. Like when Sam and Willow brought my parrot home.

  Because I gotta tell you, I woke up tonight feeling GREAT. Like I could do ANYTHING.

  I could build another stand. I could find another place to sell fireworks (or maybe, you know, something ELSE this time). I could buy those Elytra Wings and have them shipped overnight from the End City so they’d be here TOMORROW. Pete and I could be flying high above the Overworld in less than 24 hours!!!