by Billy Miner
“That may be why,” Boris said. “But trust me when I say this: With your looks, I think you should have won a long time ago.”
“Are you saying that I am getting older?” I asked, feeling a little insulted.
The bull looked confused. “No, that’s not what I meant,” he said. “What I intended to say, is that someone as beautiful as you deserves to win a prize.”
“Ah, that sounds more like it,” I said, feeling relieved.
I could hardly believe this gorgeous male was flirting with me, but at that time, I wondered if he just did that with all the cows. After all, he was a bull and was naturally attracted to the other gender. So it made me a little skeptical at first, but as we kept talking, I began to trust that he had a particular preference to get to know me better, something that was enormously flattering.
“Tell me about your life,” Boris said. “I would like to learn more about you.”
“Ha-ha! As if there is anything to know about me. Trust me, big bull, I have no life. I do the same thing every day. I don’t feel like it is going anywhere and there is nothing interesting about it. I eat, sleep, and provide milk to my farmer. It’s pretty useless.”
“That doesn’t sound useless to me,” he said. “It just sounds repetitive, that’s all. But not all repetition is useless. Some things are so important that they need to be repeated numerous times.”
“I guess you’re right. So how about you? What do you do?”
“Well, I usually do about the same thing, except for the milking of course. I stand in the field, sleep in the barn, and sometimes they use me for heavy objects. Nothing more. But I try to make the most of my time. When the farmers aren’t looking, I exercise. I work my muscles and make sure I stay in shape. That way, the farmers will see I am healthy and strong. If life isn’t interesting, you can make it that way yourself, don’t you think?”
So many wise words from such a strong bull! I corrected myself for thinking that he was shallow or lazy. He was one of the best bulls I had ever met. Fine, I admit, he was the only bull I had ever met. Too bad I couldn’t come closer and feel his muscles. The fence kept us separate.
Our conversation was interrupted. We were taken away by the farmers, back into the other room. They were calling us inside, in front of the big crowd. After that, it was all just a matter of going through the motions. The same milking took place, the same little trick of the owners calling their animals (us, the cows) and hoping that we would run towards them; and the same judges walking around us in circles, focusing on what we look like to give us a number according to our beauty and comeliness.
The end of the contest was near. They were going to announce the winner. I was a little nervous, since I had already noticed the constructive reactions of the judges when they tasted my milk. They had made positive comments about the way I looked, and I had reached my owner faster than the other slowpokes.
“And the winner is…”
There it was. He was going to say it. Was it going to be me this time? Boris certainly believed I deserved it. I listened, I watched his mouth when he uttered the words.
“… BETSY!!!”
Wow! I won! For the first time in my uhm… career as a cow I won the contest, the show, the whatever! I was so excited that I started jumping up and down a little, kind of like a little dance, despite the fact that there was no beat.
But I didn’t need real music. The earsplitting noise of the crowd going wild was enough to energize me.
I stepped forward and closed my eyes. It was one of the greatest moments of my life. The usher led me to the center of the big tent and placed a gold medal around my neck. Everybody clapped. People whistled. I felt honored and respected. I was the cow of the year!
Entry 5: Taken
The show was over. Some other stuff happened while I was taken to the back and put in a special place for winners. Farmers had replaced my water and had given me some fresh food. The straw was nice and soft, and I fell asleep with a smile on my face.
Big mistake.
I should have stayed awake.
But I didn’t, and I was about to face the consequences.
When I woke up, three men were carrying me into a wagon. Apparently, the area behind the tent was completely deserted. All the visitors were inside and the farmers were chit-chatting in front of the main entrance. But there was nobody in the back. I was left to these robbers and didn’t know what to do.
I mooed, trying to alert anyone… ANYONE to come and help me, but to no avail. No one heard me. They were all too busy celebrating and talking. Even my muscled man, the bull, didn’t hear me. He must have been asleep or something.
The three men had taken me, and no matter how much I struggled, they succeeded in putting me in their wagon and taking off to a distant terrain. When we arrived there—and of course they didn’t blindfold me, a cow—they quickly “unloaded” me and put me behind a fence in one of their barns.
The criminals were talking. I eavesdropped and could hear everything they were saying.
“This is the cow the boss wants. He was very clear. ‘Only the winning cow,’ he said. So watch her and make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”
“Understood. But wait, what are we going to do with her?”
“Are you stupid or something? This cow won the annual contest. That means it’s worth a fortune now. We’ll squeeze the owner out of his money by threatening to kill her if he doesn’t pay up. It’s as simple as that.”
“Ah, got it. But hey, what if he doesn’t pay us? Are we really going to kill a cow?”
“Of course, you blockhead. It’s just a silly cow. It won’t make any difference to anyone.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
Those were their last words before they walked away.
Entry 6: To the Rescue
This the account I got from the strong bull that was flirting with me. He told me later, and I included it in my diary:
I woke up with a jolt. It was as if something was telling me to take action. The words “kill a cow” were ringing in my head. It felt like I heard someone say it, even though there was nobody near me.
By the way, the other words ringing in my head, probably from a somewhat humorous nightmare, were “you blockhead.” Where that was coming from, I didn’t know.
I couldn’t resist the urge to break free. I had to do something. Besides, where did Betsy go? Was she all right? I thought she won the contest, didn’t she? So where did she end up then? It made no sense.
I felt it. I had to do it, so I did.
Craaaack!
I bulldozered against the fence that was holding me hostage. I bashed my bull horns against the wood, so that it would break. One more try and again…
Craaaack!
I was free!
Now, where was Betsy, the cow of my dreams? I had to find her. There was no way I would ever find a more beautiful cow than her. She was friendly and sweet, and hot, and well… practically perfect. You get the point.
I stormed out the barn and looked around. I let my masculine senses take over. A scent came from a certain direction the wind was blowing in. It was vague though; but then I saw something that would be most helpful: Tracks.
They were caused by wheels. A wagon had stopped here not too long ago. The tracks were still fresh. They were easy to follow. I didn’t wait any longer. I was about to head-butt some serious criminal butts with my sharp horns.
I ran and ran, following the tracks to the barn Betsy was at.
I heard her mooing. It was a terribly sad sound, coming from such a lovely lady. But not for long! I was going to free her no matter what. Nobody should kidnap an innocent cow like that.
I gazed around for a few seconds. Nobody was there. This was it. I wasn’t going to hesitate or linger. It was going to be hard and fast. I rushed at the sturdy fence with my head forward. It was speedy, it was efficient, and I hit it.
Craaack!
Another fence broken. Mission accomplished.
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“Hi, Betsy. Good to see you again,” I said a little awkwardly.
“Boris! You came for me!” she exclaimed.
I felt proud and I lifted up my head. “Of course. You’re my girlie. I couldn’t leave you in the clutches of these evil villains. I will always be here, ready to rescue you. Just remember that.”
“Yes, I get it. Let’s go before they discover us.”
But it was too late. The robbers had already discovered us. We couldn’t escape anymore. They were waving their pitchforks at us and blocked our way out. But they were about to PAY for the wrongs they did.
My instincts took over. The testosterone levels in my blood rose dramatically. The skyrocketing energy in my body was ready to explode into a raging outburst. I put one of my feet on the dusty ground and rubbed it a few times as to prepare myself to run at them. I squinted my eyes, and had a more determined facial expression than a wolf hunting for a prey. Steam was blowing from my nose, my ears were tightening up. These criminals didn’t know what fate would befall them.
They were about to get CREAMED!
I dashed at the first one. He nervously held his pitchfork in front of him, trying to impale me.
But he failed miserably.
Dodging his pathetic attempt to defend himself, I avoided his pointy weapon and banged his stomach so hard he fell over and ended up rolling in the sand.
Knockout.
Now the next one. He was looking even more worried than the first villain after he saw what I did to him. His hands were shaking, his pitchfork went back and forth, but none of these distractions were able to do me any harm. I had a mission, and I was going to show him who was boss.
Bang!
Another one bit the dust. Stupid criminal. That will teach you to threaten my lady.
Anyone else?
The last one was so scared I thought he would give up. He didn’t look as confident as he did before I beat the other two to the ground. I slowly walked towards him. His pitchfork fell. He couldn’t cope with the overpowering presence of a real hero, a real bull with spunk and the strength like a lion. He DID give up, because when he saw me approaching him, he screamed like a little girl. Then I watched him run away in panic, leaving the two of us behind as the only ones left standing.
“My hero,” Betsy said.
Entry 7: Zombies!
Back to my writing. Yes, this is Betsy again. Glad to see you back. Anyway, isn’t Boris amazing? He came especially for me. He rescued me from those men. But the day was not over yet. I will tell you of the havoc and chaos in the moments following the kidnapping, because the danger wasn’t over.
In this world, there are certain creatures to be feared and avoided. You don’t want to see them, and you definitely don’t want to get close to them.
You see, the kidnapping was bad enough, although it resulted into being together with the handsome bull I had met earlier. But even after all of that was over, we weren’t left alone by the local problems the population in this region was typically facing.
I had heard of zombies earlier, but never seen one in real. Well, here was my chance, because this day was getting even crazier.
They appeared within minutes, probably at least 50 or so. They came from the woods. I saw them and told Boris, “Ah, the villagers found out about our location.”
“Those aren’t just villagers,” he responded. “Those are zombies!”
“What?”
“They will attack us and eat us if they can,” Boris said. “Let’s run away as quickly as we can.”
And so we did. The hordes of zombies were running after us, but we already reached the back of the barn and ran through the woods, trying to preserve our lives.
“Wraaah!” we heard the zombies moan behind us.
Boris huffed and puffed, like bulls typically do. But I couldn’t run as fast as he did, so I fell behind. Eventually, I really fell… into the sand.
“Ouch!”
“Betsy!” he shouted when he looked back.
The zombies were close now; they were about to jump on me and start nibbling my skin. I was incredibly scared. They were within only a few feet distance now. One of them already leaped into the air, ready to land on me. I closed my eyes, but I didn’t feel him land. What was happening?
I opened my eyes and saw my rescuing hero head-butt away several zombies. They were all over Boris, and although he got wounded in the process, he kept hitting and kicking the zombies.
“Go!” he yelled. “I’ll be there soon! Don’t worry about me, just find a place to hide.”
I got back on my feet and ran away. I felt terribly guilty leaving him behind like this, so I couldn’t resist looking back a few times. However, since he basically said he could handle it, I wasn’t going to question his judgment.
And then I saw it.
There it was: The building from my dream.
Entry 8: Happy Milk
I know there is no such thing as “happy milk,” since milk cannot really experience any emotions, but I decided to call this entry that way anyway, since we were totally happy when we tasted those dairy products we found.
I went around the back of the ice cream factory, just like in my dream, and discovered the door was open… just like in my dream. Was this a coincidence, or was I, in some way, able to predict the future?
I shut the door, but what happened next, was different from what I had seen in my dream. After only a few seconds, I heard a loud banging sound.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
I didn’t know if I wanted to open up. What if the zombies were trying to get in? I hesitated, and then I asked, “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Boris!” the voice said.
It sounded like him. I trusted it, so I opened the door and there he was.
“Quickly,” he urged me. “Close the door and lock it. They are right behind me.”
I did as he said and we looked around. This was it, the beautiful ice cream factory I had seen in my dreams. But we didn’t feel safe yet. The danger hadn’t left. So we waited in anticipation. If any zombie would enter the factory, we would fight for our lives or run away.
We waited and waited.
After some time, the noises from the zombies were gone. We later learned, after a day or two, when the farmers would find us in the factory, that they had killed the zombies with their pitchforks and shovels, and that the plague had been eradicated from the area.
But for now, we were in heaven, and nobody knew we were in here. So we made the best of it. We looked at each other and started laughing when we saw the flavors in all the containers.
We opened them, ate cookie flavored ice cream, brownie flavored ice cream, and all the fruits you can imagine that were mixed together in there.
“Do you think some of these ice cream containers have some of your milk, Betsy?” Boris asked.
“I most certainly do. Some of the best milk in the country, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I love it.”
“Let’s stop talking and eat more,” I suggested
“Good idea.”
THE END
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Minecraft Warrior
Diary of a Minecraft Warrior
By Billy Miner
Copyright @2015
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Contents:
Introduction
Entry 1: Archery
Entry 2: The Ruler
Entry 3: Banished
Entry 4: The Wilderness
Entry 5: The League
Entry 6: Return to the Homeland
Entry 7: Escape
Entry 8: Peace
Introduction
A corrupt government, an evil dictator, and a new law mess up Wesley’s life. He has been hunting in the woods for a living, but now, his future gets taken away by the greed of the ruler and an unforeseen betrayal.