by Greyson Mann
Also by Greyson Mann
The Creeper Diaries
Mob School Survivor
Creeper’s Got Talent
Creepin’ Through the Snow: Special Edition
New Creep at School
The Overworld Games
Creeper Family Vacation
Creeper on the Case
The Enchanted Creeper
Secrets of an Overworld Survivor
Lost in the Jungle
When Lava Strikes
Wolves vs. Zombies
Never Say Nether
The Witch’s Warning
Journey to the End
This book is not authorized or sponsored by Microsoft Corp., Mojang AB, Notch Development AB or Scholastic Inc., or any other person or entity owning or controlling rights in the Minecraft name, trademark, or copyrights.
THE CREEPER DIARIES: MOB SCHOOL SWAP.
Copyright © 2019 by Hollan Publishing, Inc.
Minecraft® is a registered trademark of Notch Development AB.
The Minecraft game is copyright © Mojang AB.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.
Special thanks to Erin L. Falligant.
Cover illustration by Amanda Brack
Cover design by Brian Peterson
Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-5107-3751-8
E-book ISBN: 978-1-5107-3755-6
Printed in the United States of America
DAY 1: TUESDAY
I have always, always, ALWAYS wanted a brother.
When my baby sister Cammy was born, I went on strike. I locked myself in my room and wouldn’t come out for a WHOLE night. Not even for Mom’s burnt pork chops and roasted potatoes. No sirree.
I mean, COME ON. I already had two sisters. What were the chances that creeper egg would crack open and deliver ANOTHER girl creeper? But it did. And I’m not gonna lie—I might have shed a tear or two, mourning the long-lost brother that I, Gerald Creeper Jr., was never going to have.
But that all changed last week. See, Mom decided we should take part in a Mob School Swap. That’s when a mob from another school in the Overworld comes to live with our family for like a month. “He can share a room with you, Gerald,” said Mom. “Like brothers!”
Well, I nearly busted out my dance moves when I heard that. Yup, I was celebrating alright. It was almost January—the start of a new year at Mob Middle School. And I’d be going back to school with a BROTHER.
I told my best friend, Sam Slime, about it right away. I mean, good news like that could destroy a guy if he tried to keep it all inside.
Then I cleaned my room from top to bottom. I moved my squid Sticky’s aquarium to one end of the dresser and told Sticky that soon—VERY soon—we’d have a brother. Maybe even another creeper like me, or like my old buddy Cash who moved away a year ago.
But guess who showed up bright and early on our doorstep this morning? A creeper like Cash?
Nope.
A slime like Sam?
Nope.
An Enderman like Eddy, the coolest kid at school?
Ah, no. Not even close.
A zombie? A witch? A skeleton? A spider jockey?
Nuh-uh. You can keep guessing all night long, and you’ll NEVER get it right.
Mom said it would be a surprise. Well, I was surprised all right when I opened the front door and saw a HUMAN standing there.
Yup, you heard me. A HUMAN!!! This scrawny brown-haired kid in a cape stood on our front step, looking like a squished bug under his heavy backpack.
Now let’s get one thing straight: creepers and humans do NOT hang out. EVER. I mean, except for when my big sister Cate was crushing on some human named Steve. She even started DRESSING like a human for a while, but we don’t talk about that. At least not in front of Dad.
Anyway, turns out this kid’s name is Andrew and he’s from Humanville. You know where that is? I sure do. My family got lost in Humanville last summer, when Dad took a wrong turn with the minecart. And let me tell you, those humans were not the least bit friendly to a bunch of creepers like us.
So why’d Mom go and invite a human to come LIVE here? And while we’re asking the tough questions, why would Andrew WANT to come live with a bunch of creepers, anyway?
I would have asked, except Andrew started sneezing, right there in the doorway. He sprayed me good before Mom finally pulled him inside to get warm.
But getting warm sure didn’t cure Andrew’s sneezing. Turns out, he has allergies. He sneezed, wheezed, and sniffled all the way through breakfast. He’s a very drippy dude. GREAT. I’ll be bringing a giant red nose to school with me tomorrow. Maybe he’ll be so gross and drippy that he’ll pass for a zombie.
And surprise, surprise—I learned right away that Andrew and I have NOTHING in common. I have three sisters, but Andrew is an only child (some mobs get all the luck). I love rap music, but Andrew isn’t all that into music. NOPE. He loves some weird extracurricular called “hockey.” He even showed me the hockey stick that had been poking out of his backpack. It’s bent at the end, like a broken wooden sword.
But here’s the real kicker: I love burnt pork chops. Love, love, LOVE them. But Andrew? He does NOT like his pork chops burned to a crisp. In fact, he doesn’t like pork chops at all—or any kind of meat for that matter. He’s a VEGETARIAN.
I guess his parents grow organic vegetables on a farm outside of Humanville. As soon as the V-word popped out of Andrew’s mouth, I wanted to stuff it back in. We do NOT mention vegetables at the dinner table—not after Mom’s “go green” kick a while back. She served nothing but Brussels sprouts for like a month!
So while Mom warmed up some mushroom stew for Andrew, I made a big show of telling her how especially TASTY her burnt pork chops were this morning. I’m pretty sure Andrew wrinkled up his nose when I mentioned the chops, or maybe he was just holding back a sneeze.
Mom was sure bending over backward to make Andrew feel at home here. And Dad told even more corny jokes than usual, even though they were bombing left and right.
“Mrs. Creeper always says, when life hands you moldy mushrooms, make mushroom stew!” said Dad, all cheerful-like.
“MOLDY mushrooms?” said Andrew. There was that nose wrinkle again.
“I’ll bet you’re tired after your trip, son. Creepers need their sleepers. And humans need to shut their peepers!”
“Sleep? In the middle of the day?” asked Andrew, his “peepers” wide open.
My sisters were trying WAY too hard with Andrew, too. Cate asked all kinds of questions about his family. Maybe she hoped he had an older brother named Steve. And Cammy studied Andrew like a shiny new toy. She was so into Andrew that we actually made it through a whole meal without the Exploding Baby throwing a temper tantrum.
The only sister who acted NORMAL around Andrew was my Evil Twin, Chloe. I could hear her hissing from all the way across the table. Mom hissed something right back at her about keep
ing an open mind and making friends with mobs who aren’t “just like us.”
But Chloe wasn’t having it. And for once, I actually agreed with her. I mean, what was Mom THINKING, inviting Andrew here? How was I supposed to bring this kid to school with me???
I could see it already—heading back to Mob Middle School with this dude in a cape glued to my side. Every mob would be staring and whispering. Bones and his gang of spider jockeys would be pointing and poking at us with their bony fingers. And I already had enough trouble keeping those bony jocks off my back.
Things only got worse at bedtime. Andrew leaned his hockey stick against the wall and then pulled this thing out of his trunk that nearly blinded me. I guess it was his lucky rock. Glowstone, he called it—something his dad brought back from a mining trip in the Nether. And Andrew set it RIGHT on the dresser next to Sticky.
Was he just going to LEAVE it there? All day long? The thing glowed like a beacon even in the daytime. How was a creeper supposed to get his sleepers???
Now I like to think I’m an understanding creeper. I keep my lucky petrified mushroom pretty close to me at all times, too. But my mushroom never blinded a guy when he was trying to get some shut-eye. SHEESH.
And did I mention that Andrew’s trunk takes up half the room? I thought he was going to empty it out and then let Dad take it out to the garage. But he didn’t. He took out his glowstone, and then he locked that trunk back up—as if it were full of stolen treasure or something.
Did he think I was going to SNOOP in there? Well, I wasn’t. At least not until I heard the click of the lock. After that, the ONLY thing I wanted to do was snoop. That’s the thing about locks. They just make you want to bust them open.
“Whatcha got in that trunk?” I asked, sounding all cool and casual like.
He blew his nose and shrugged. “Some stuff my parents sent with me. It’s no big deal.”
But I could tell by the tone of his voice that it WAS a big deal. I’m a pretty good detective—like Sherlock Bones in those mystery books. Whenever my buddy Sam is even THINKING about telling a lie, I can spot it coming from a mile away.
So now I’m trying to sleep, but Andrew is sniffling and snorting in the bed beside me. His precious glowstone is burning right through my eyelids. I can’t stop wondering what’s locked up in that chest. And every time I even THINK about taking Andrew to school with me tomorrow, I start to sweat.
It feels like I’m starting Mob Middle School all over again. (And let me tell you, that is NOT a part of my life I want to do over.) When I was a scrawny sixth grader, I didn’t think I’d survive my first month. Bones and his buddies slapped a nickname on me: they started calling me Itchy (because I have this little problem with itchy skin), and that name stuck like mold on a mushroom. So Bones and his buddies are going to eat Andrew alive for sure—and then have ME for dessert.
This creeper needs a plan—a way to survive thirty days with a human “brother.” Luckily, I keep my trusty journal under my mattress for times like this. So now I’m staring into that glowstone, just waiting for a few genius ideas to strike.
I gotta find a way to make Andrew seem more NORMAL. You know, maybe help him ditch the cape. And stop all that sniffling.
Maybe I can even help him look tough, like a spider jockey. He may not ride spiders or swing swords, but he says he’s pretty good with a hockey stick. (Note to self: figure out what this hockey thing is all about. Is that hockey stick a weapon?)
Maybe I’ll get lucky and Andrew WILL have loads of gemstones in that chest! Because if he does, Bones will be falling all over himself trying to buddy up to Andrew. EVERY mob will. And as his brother and agent, I could cash in on that popularity. Just sayin’ …
Okay, I think I’ve got a plan. Here goes:
I sure hope this plan works. Because if it doesn’t—if Andrew tanks at Mob Middle School and takes me down with him—I might have to pack it up and move to Humanville.
DAY 2: WEDNESDAY
Okay, I’m glad I have at least ONE sister. One sister with a very big closet.
After we woke up last night, I dragged Andrew straight into Cate’s room. Her closet is like a whole other Overworld—with racks of skins that could transform a creeper into anything he wanted to be. And hopefully transform a human, too.
At first, Cate’s ideas were way over the top. She wanted to dress up Andrew like a zombie pigman, until I told her that going to school with a zombie pigman was ALMOST as bad as going to school with a human. I said that last part kind of loud, which I was sorry about, because Andrew heard me. But maybe it’s best that he know the truth. This is NOT going to be an easy road for the kid. Luckily, he has Gerald Creeper Jr. by his side.
So we settled on dressing Andrew all in green. That way, if he’s walking down the hall between me and Sam Slime, maybe he’ll blend right in and no one will even notice him. A creeper can hope, right?
Mom did a double-take when Andrew showed up at the dinner table dressed like a creeper. But then Cate danced into the room wearing her red wig—her HUMAN wig. And Dad started hissing, and then everyone forgot all about Andrew’s clothes.
I used to call Cate’s wig “Rosy” because it’s just SO red. And while I ate my chops at dinner, I started thinking about names. And nicknames. And how to make sure Andrew didn’t get slapped with a nickname like “Itchy” during his first few days at Mob Middle School.
See, I was named after my dad, Gerald Creeper Sr. And after Grandpa Gerald. And Great-Grandpa Gerald. And Great-Great Grandpa Gerald, who’s kind of famous around these parts for starting the first Overworld Games.
None of my relatives went by “Gerry” or “Ger” or “G.” Not a single one of them. So I went by “Gerald” too. I mean, I didn’t really have a choice.
But maybe Andrew did. I studied the kid and tried on a few nicknames, just for size.
He wasn’t going to make this easy for me, I could tell. So I settled on calling him “dude” every chance I got.
Like tonight, when it was time to get up for school, I nudged his shoulder.
And he was all like, “Huh?” He rubbed his eyes, looked out the window, and said, “But it’s dark out!” I guess this whole sleep-in-the-day-and-go-to-school-at-night deal isn’t how things work in Humanville.
Andrew was so sleepy that he must have forgotten all about the green clothes Cate and I had found for him. He put his blue T-shirt and jeans back on instead. When he reached for his cape, I had to step in and take control. “No cape, my dude. Remember the clothes we picked out for you?”
But he said he couldn’t wear those because they were CRUSTY. Say WHAT???
Andrew showed me how he’d sneezed all over Cate’s green T-shirt. Sure enough, the thing looked like Ziggy Zombie’s napkin after lunch. GROSS.
So much for dressing the dude like a creeper.
Anyway, now it’s time to leave for school, and I’ve gotta say, I’ve got a bad feeling in my gut about this.
Wish me luck.
DAY 3: THURSDAY
Well, at least we got THAT over with—my first day of bringing a human with me to Mob Middle School. It felt a lot like the day I brought my squid Sticky to school, only to find out that it was NOT Take Your Squid to School Day. But that’s a whole other story.
Things started out EXACTLY the way I thought they would. Every single mob in that hallway spun around and stared when Andrew and I walked through the door. I could see the news lighting up the hall like a Redstone circuit.
And then suddenly Emma Enderman was beside us, asking if she could write an article about Andrew for the school newspaper. That girl’s got a future in reporting, for sure. She got right up in Andrew’s face before anyone else could get to him.
I tried to take charge of the interview. I mean, I used to write for the MOB MIDDLE SCHOOL OBSERVER too, so I’m a whiz at steering stories in the right direction. “Ask him about hockey,” I told Emma.
But she totally ignored me. She kept asking Andrew about his family and
about Humanville—you know, the facts I DIDN’T want to focus on. “The dude doesn’t want to talk about that stuff,” I told Emma. “Oh, and did I mention he goes by ‘Dude’?”
When she took Andrew’s picture, I photo-bombed the shot and scrunched down low, trying to make Andrew look taller and tougher. He gave me a weird look, but I didn’t care. A brother’s gotta do what a brother’s gotta do, right?
When Sam spotted us, he bounced over—and then wiggled to a stop in front of Andrew. I swear, I’ve never seen that slime look more surprised.
Sam was all like, “Oh! You’re a … I mean … Gerald, why didn’t you tell me that … I mean, um … nice to meet you.”
I let the slime sweat it out for a while before saving him. “Sam, meet my dude Andrew.” Then I pushed them both along the hall toward first period, hoping to avoid any skeletons and spider jockeys along the way.
We kept a low profile till lunchtime. But it’s kind of hard to hide a human in the cafeteria. A spotlight was shining down on Andrew, I swear. Every witch, zombie, and skeleton in the room caught every embarrassing thing he did. Even TEACHERS stopped to stare.
When Andrew sneezed and blew his lunch bag right off the table, mobs watched. When he wiped his nose on his cape, mobs stared. And when he fell asleep in his mushroom stew, mobs snickered.
Sam, of all mobs, should have known about THOSE. He’s pretty much allergic to milk. “Lactose intolerant,” he calls it, which means the slime has to steer clear of milk and cheese or he gets really gassy. And really stinky. FAST.