by Cube Kid
“No apple pie?! And we can’t even have toast! Not even dry toast without any butter! We have loaves of bread, right? But the furnaces won’t toast the bread, and swords won’t cut the loaves! No matter how many times I try, the bread just crumbles!”
More silence.
Mike and I exchanged worried glances.
Steve scratched his chin.
“And yet, they have ice cream, these villagers. Many flavors, too. But not the ones I like! What kind of world is this?!”
Mike rose up from his chair and looked out the window.
“A Minecraft world.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking about quitting,” Steve said. “Quitting teaching and building a redstone robot.”
“And what would the purpose of this . . . redstone robot be, Steve?”
“A food-crafting robot. Night and day, it’d set random types of food on the crafting table, until it finally found a new recipe.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Mike said, turning back to the window. “Not even Marky could build something like that! And the guy’s a crafting master!”
Steve’s eyes lit up.
“Marky! Yes! If only Marky was here! He’d know how to craft pizza!”
“But he’s not here, Steve. Accept it. Until we figure out a way to get back to Earth, it’s potatoes and bread.”
“I’ll teach a golem to craft food for me!”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will! It will craft while I sleep!”
Mike groaned, but Steve just laughed.
“Supreme pizza, here I come!!”
Yeah.
Needless to say, I didn’t hang around there much longer. I understood what was going on, though. Steve missed Earth food, stuff like pizza and hamburgers, things I’ve never eaten before. I guess they must taste amazing.
Still, I don’t get it—what’s wrong with our ice cream? Maybe he tried that nasty Creeper Crunch?
It is really
gross.
Later, I went back to the park with Stump. That’s where the ice cream shop is.
While Stump and I got ice cream,
I felt like someone was watching me again.
I didn’t see anyone, though.
Dear Diary,
I like you, diary, I really do. But I can only assume you’re going to suffer the same fate as my record book. Torn to pieces, crumbling into nothingness. You see, Pebble and his friends shook me down today. Took everything I had, from my sword to my lunch emeralds. Well, almost everything. Thankfully, Urf arrived just before they grabbed you, diary. But it’s only a matter of time.
What can I do?
There are three of them, and they’re
a lot bigger than I am.
Stump tried to help out. I warned him not to. He’s probably next on their list. Even though Stump is the seventh-highest-level student, he’s still a threat.
Worse yet, that Porcupine guy has apparently joined Pebble’s crew. Porcupine saw Pebble pushing me around and figured he’d be better off with the punks.
So all the top students . . . they’re taking sides. You’re either on my crew or on Pebble’s . . . and it’s easy to see which crew is the strongest.
I saw Sarabella hanging out with Donkey. She gave me a guilty look.
“I’m sorry,” she said later. “It’s just . . . if I keep talking to you, they’ll harass me, too, you know? I just wanna graduate with good scores.”
I looked away.
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
“We’re still friends, right?”
“Sure.”
I totally understand, though. I’m not bitter.
Team Runt is a sinking ship.
Didn’t bring the diary to school today. Didn’t bring anything. Except a carrot. My lunch.
So go ahead. Beat me up. Take everything in my inventory.
Well, today, Team Pebble tried just that.
“GIMME THAT CARROT”
But when they grabbed me, I immediately whipped out my carrot and ate it as fast as I could. They struggled to take my only food item away from me. I chomped down faster. Little pieces of carrot went flying everywhere.
“Get that carrot!”
“Grab it!”
But I managed to eat it before they took it from me.
“You little noob!” shouted Pebble.
Even as they roughed me up, I smiled.
It was a small little victory today. They couldn’t do anything to me. The only item they could have taken I ate right in front of them.
Good game. Noobs.
Those sounds came from me. Team Pebble walked up and said they weren’t going to steal anything today; they were going to give me something. They gave me a pumpkin, all right—jammed it down over my head and began punching me. “Don’t just stand there!! You’re a pumpkin zombie, little noob!! It’s combat training!!”
OOF!!
OOF!!
OOF!!
I don’t want to write much today.
I . . . will . . . get . . . my . . . revenge.
But I can’t feel sorry for myself. The things they did to Max were even worse.
Really wish he’d hurry up
with that big idea of his.
“You like eating things, do you?! Let’s see if you can eat this whole cake!!”
That about describes my day. By the way, that wasn’t their cake. It was Stump’s. Something he’d made in Crafting Basics.
Max.
Please.
Hurry. Up.
Pebble didn’t try anything today. It’s because a new rumor has been spreading through the school—in fact, spreading through the entire village. Supposedly, someone spotted an enderman in the village. A friendly enderman who only wanted to trade. He was looking for a potion. And not just any potion, but a Potion of Water Resistance. This isn’t something that prevents drowning damage but . . . damage from water. I’ve never heard of such a potion, and neither has anyone I’ve talked to. Yet . . . that doesn’t mean such a potion doesn’t exist.
Now, here’s the thing.
The enderman is willing to pay five hundred emeralds for a stack of such potions. Five hundred emeralds. This enderman is rich, apparently. Of course, everyone in the village started freaking out. Especially the kids at school.
“We’ve gotta find out how to craft that potion!!”
“We’ve gotta make some before that enderman returns to the village!!”
“With that many emeralds, I can buy an enchanted diamond sword!!”
Like that. Forget the trees—the enderman was all anyone was talking about. As the rumor goes, the enderman is a world traveler and has a dream of becoming a professional swimmer. The problem with that, obviously, is that water is like acid to endermen. They can’t even be out in the rain, much less swim for any length of time. But this Potion of Water Resistance would fix that, I guess.
The rumors were flying even more today.
People kept talking about what they were going to do with their massive pile of emeralds once they discovered how to brew that potion. That girl Breeze came up and asked me about it. She keeps talking to me every chance she gets. What is her problem?!
Later, I ran into Max. He apologized for being late. While we stood there in the streets, we heard kids nearby talking about the enderman. Max gave me an evil grin.
Suddenly, I understood—he was the one responsible for those rumors. That meant the rumors weren’t true. The enderman didn’t actually exist. The world-traveling enderman was just another one of Max’s creations,
like the poo screamer.
Yes, Max was at it again with his crazy tales—and this time, I didn’t mind t
hem at all. It’s like this: Everyone’s gonna be crafting potions for at least the next few days, experimenting, trying to figure out how to make that special potion. And what do you need when crafting a bunch of potions? Empty glass bottles.
Max went around the village and dug up every sandy area he could. I dug up a bunch myself in the park. We figure we probably have at least 75% of the village’s available sand. At least, the easy-to-find stuff.
When people run out of bottles, they’ll have no option but to come crawling to us. We’ll be able to charge anything we want for them.
I have to admit, this plan of
Max’s is pretty brilliant.
This morning, I finished reading Urf’s Golden Rules Handbook. At the end, there was an advertisement for his next book . . .
The Ultimate Legendary Handbook.
Ultimate Legendary Secret #1:
Use a sword to attack mobs.
Once upon a time, a noob named Mike was a total noob. He was almost as noob as Steve the Noob, who was the mayor of Noobtown. Mike was so noob that he didn’t use a sword. He thought using a stick as a weapon would be almost as good.
“Hmm. I guess this sword could use some enchanting.”
Ultimate Legendary Secret #2:
Even Mungo is afraid of The Ultimate Legendary Handbook.
“Mungo scared.
Urf book make tiny man too strong.
So, Mungo become farm man.
Mungo sad now.
Mungo no like farm work.
Mungo no like eat orange things.
And brown things no taste good!!
But easier than eat tiny man. Urf
book make tiny man too smart.
OK, bye. Mungo go eat pie-pie now.”
Ultimate Legendary Secret #3:
Urf is way cooler than Steve.
“I used to be a bad warrior . . . For example, I once hugged a creeper because it looked sad and I thought it needed a hug.
“But not any longer. After reading The Ultimate Legendary Handbook, I’m now a combat teacher.
“Urf taught me everything I know and I’m so thankful for that.
“Someday, I hope to be as amazing as Urf. It’s not possible, but I still try.”
-Steve
Ahem. Runt here.
My first thought upon reading this advertisement was:
What?! Steve wouldn’t say something like that! Urf clearly made that up!
Hurrrr. Urf better be careful. When Steve finds out about this—and he will—he’s gonna explode like a mountain made of TNT—and not just any mountain made of TNT, but one inhabited by creepers.
Boom Mountain. It makes the Nether look like a Flower Forest.
Anyway, what am I doing thinking about Urf and Boom Mountain?! Today was a big day! Max came up with a clever plan to earn the emeralds we need to buy new record books. It was pretty simple.
Max cooked up a story about an enderman who wants to be a professional swimmer and is willing to pay five hundred emeralds for a Potion of Water Resistance (so he doesn’t burn while in the water).
After hearing about the enderman, kids at school freaked out. They wanted to brew that potion. Kids kept bugging the brewing teacher about it. “How do I craft one?” “What’s the secret recipe?” And so on.
Max and I dug up most of the sand around the village. (You need sand to make glass, glass to craft bottles, and bottles to brew potions.)
Yesterday, we spent hours crafting bottles and set up a stand to sell them:
Stump wasn’t interested in selling bottles, but he brought a bunch of cakes. He didn’t sell many . . . and I’m so glad he didn’t.
Because an hour after we set up our stand, we were so swamped with customers there was no way we could take a lunch break.
Stump’s cakes were the only food we had. (Even if we had remembered to bring lunches, our inventories were too clogged with bottles.)
Within an hour, we made twenty-one emeralds! A bunch of other kids just stood around, though, asking us to lower our price.
What can I say?
Villagers will be villagers.
I had that creepy feeling that someone was watching me again. Which was strange, because obviously, a lot of people were watching me. I wonder why I had that feeling?
Anyway, it seemed we were going to make the hundred emeralds we needed. Sadly, things never come easy for me, and today was no exception.
There was a shout nearby.
It was Pebble. “Finest-quality bottles!” he called out. “Only six emeralds per stack! Get ’em while ya can, folks!”
People rushed over to his little stand—a flood of cries, shouts, and elbows. Through the crowd, I saw Pebble give me a wink.
Urg!!!
What a copycat. His bottle stand was like a smaller version of ours. All he did was copy us . . . and offer a slightly lower price.
What a poo screamer. I put up a new sign:
Boom
That’ll fix him, I thought.
In response, Pebble dropped his price to four.
So, we went to three.
Then he went to two . . .
It was a price war—Bottle Mart versus Dork Depot. Finally, I dropped our price to one emerald per stack. There was no way he could go any lower, right? He’d have to match our price, and we’d get half the customers. Right?
I . . . couldn’t believe what that punk did next.
Free?!
Seriously?!
I’m gonna hurgg, I thought.
Yeah. I can definitely feel a big one coming on.
Okay.
Calm down.
Calm down.
I stood there until I no longer had the urge to hurgg.
Then an idea suddenly hit me, like lightning hitting a pig and turning it into a zombie pigman. Except, uh . . . I’m not a zombie pigman. I’m not a pig, either. Gah. Never mind.
Anyway . . . My idea was this: I had managed to peek at Pebble’s record book earlier. By doing that, I learned his weakness. You see, his crafting score is his lowest score. Brewing is a subskill of crafting, which means he doesn’t know how to brew very well.
Why does that matter?
It will become clear soon enough.
I turned to my friends: “Max, go to school and grab a brewing stand. Stump, go to my room and grab two nether warts, two rabbit’s feet, and a water bucket. Oh, and a pinch of glowstone dust.”
Looking at their faces, you would have thought I’d just invited them to a slumber party in the Nether or something.
“Huh?! Why?!”
“Because it’s time to humiliate our competition,” I said. “And don’t forget the glowstone!!”
Away they went. I left our bottle stand and walked into the crowd.
“Everyone, if I may have your attention,” I called out. “It seems there’s only one way to determine who has the highest-quality bottles:
a brew-off!!!”
People turned to me with confused looks.
“A brew-off?”
“Hurrr? What’s that?”
“It’s like a dance-off,” I said, “except with brewing, not dancing. A competition.” The crowd broke into low murmurs. Hushed excitement. Laughter. Even a few cheers.
Pebble scowled and pushed through the crowd. “So, it’s a brew-off you want, eh, buddy boy?! You don’t have a brewing stand!”
Then someone cleared his throat. “Ahem.” Max was standing behind Pebble, brewing stand in hand. He must have sprinted the whole way. He set it down between Pebble and me.
I smirked. “You were saying?”
Beads of sweat formed across Pebble�
��s brow.
“Err . . . ahh . . . well, y-you need more than just a brewing stand! You need ingredients too! Wanna brew Air Potions, do ya?”
Grrrrrrr. He can laugh all he wants, I thought, but if my idea works, he’s gonna be the laughingstock of the whole school.
Thankfully, Stump showed up moments later with all the ingredients and a water bucket in hand. “Here you go, cap’n.”
“Looks like we have everything we need,” I said, looking Pebble in the eye.
Pebble swallowed nervously and wiped his brow.
“W-well, yes,” he said, “but I w-wouldn’t wanna embarrass you in front of a-all these kids! You sure you want that?”
“Oh, I’m sure,” I said, with a nod.
I gave Pebble one nether wart and one rabbit’s foot. Then Stump dug a hole and emptied the bucket into it.
I addressed the crowd.
“The brew-off has officially begun!”
Everyone backed up to watch the show. The chatter grew louder.
I raised an empty bottle.
“We will test the quality of our bottles by brewing Potions of Leaping,” I said. “We’ll then drink our potions, and the one who jumps the highest . . .”
Of course, even if the glass I’d used had somehow been of higher quality, it wouldn’t have affected the potion at all. You needed extra ingredients for that, like redstone or glowstone dust.
I was just bluffing.
A lot of the people in the crowd didn’t seem to catch on to this. Probably most of them hadn’t paid too much attention in brewing class. Or perhaps they questioned it but weren’t sure enough to say anything. After all, Stump was nearby, and his crafting score was really high.