by Books Kid
“YOU’RE GOING TO LOSE, WORM!”
This upset me so much that I exploded–which earned me a penalty in time. And I was so annoyed that I did not respawn correctly: I ended up with one foot inside out and this slowed me down even more.
When I crossed the finish line, hobbling, I didn’t need to looK at Mr. Bing to Know I was going to detention.
“Congratulations, Mervyn.”
What? Had I somehow managed to beat my old time, anyway?
“You’ve succeeded in setting the most disastrous time of the year. I am disappointed. I’m ashamed that my students could be this bad. You’re going to detention until the end of the weeK.”
“Until the end of the weeK?” I repeated. I couldn’t believe it. My dad was going to Kill me! “But,” I pleaded, “Mr. Bing . . .”
Wesley shoved me as soon as we went bacK to the locKer room. “I told you you were a loser.”
I was too upset to care about Wesley. How was I going to train for the competition if I had to spend every afternoon with Mr. Bing?
DAY 8
“OKay, Mervyn. Once I’m done with you, you’ll never finish last in an obstacle course.”
I grumbled as Mr. Bing led me to the start of the course.
“You’re going to go around, then around, then around again, until you don’t Know which way is up and which is down. And then you’ll start over! So, taKe your marK . . . Go!”
I remained standing on the spot, unsure of whether I should give it my all or go easy at the beginning. I couldn’t believe I had to run in circles for hours. It was exhausting just thinKing about it.
“What are you waiting for, Mervyn? I said:
Go, Go, Go!”
Mr. Bing began to run behind me, which left me with no choice but to go as fast as possible.
“Choose the right moment for your explosions. They will help you cover more ground in the course!” advised Mr. Bing. “And . . . now!”
I blew up right when he told me to, and, once I’d respawned, I realized that Mr. Bing was right. The force of the explosion had propelled me further along the course and I was now much closer to the next obstacle.
“Well done, Mervyn. One more time! Explode . . . now!”
I did as he said, and, when I arrived at the finish line, I had achieved the best time of my entire life.
“Good, Mervyn. It is nice to see you put some effort into my class, for a change. It’s a shame it had to come to detention for you to get here. Very good. Now, bacK to the start.”
“Again?”
I was wiped out, but Mr. Bing was relentless. True to his word, he made me go around and around and around the obstacle course, until I had cramps in my feet and my head hurt from exploding so often.
“Excellent. That’s enough for now,” Mr. Bing finally decreed. “Same time, same place tomorrow.”
“Yes, Mr. Bing,” I replied, gasping for air.
In that moment, I was mad at Mr. Bing for maKing me sweat liKe this. But I do have to admit that my exploding abilities had greatly improved, and all in the space of just one evening.
Maybe it was a good thing to get stuck with detention, after all.
DAY 9
I never would have thought that one day I would looK forward to going to detention, but I admit that I was impatiently waiting for school to end so I could get bacK to the obstacle course with Mr. Bing.
When I arrived, the course looKed completely different.
“Right, Mervyn. Since you managed so well yesterday, I’ve decided to maKe things a little more interesting. I’ve created a more complex course, and you’re going to attempt it by yourself while I evaluate your progress. Then we’ll taKe it from there.”
I got into position, ready to go. I was going to complete the obstacle course as fast as I could and show Mr. Bing how much I had improved.
“TAKE YOUR MARK . . . GET SET . . . Go!”
I launched myself forward, and, for once, I didn’t end up sprawled across the ground. Step one: check!
I was going to crush everything!
I turned a corner and found myself face-to-face with an enormous pile of iron. I was going far too fast to go around it or go over it, so I had no choice. I exploded.
Once I’d respawned, I realized that the force of the blast had thrown me bacKward. I now had to run even further to get bacK to the course and I had lost a lot of time. I gritted my teeth and sped up as much as I could to try to maKe up for the lost time–but then I came to a slope with a lot of twists and turns.
I had to zigzag between tall poles. Toward the end, however, the last two poles were so close together that I couldn’t slip between them.
BOoM !
Once again, I exploded and was thrown bacKward along the obstacle course. I scattered in all directions: one of my feet landed up on the top of a pole! I had to climb the pole in order to get it bacK. I felt time slipping away from me. This wasn’t going to do.
I ended up crossing the finish line by creeping along the ground, exhausted. Mr. Bing shooK his head as he stopped his watch.
“What happened, Mervyn? That was a terrible time!”
“It was because of the new obstacles,” I protested. “I didn’t have a choice! I had to blow them up and this slowed me down.”
“Yes, that was the thing to do–but you should have used these explosions to your advantage. The obstacle course has supposedly been designed to test you, but there is always a shortcut if you Know how to looK for it. Come and see.”
I followed Mr. Bing to the starting line and we walKed to the first obstacle, which Mr. Bing had reconstructed.
“When you turned this corner,” said Mr. Bing, “you saw the iron blocKs and you panicKed. Don’t panic! You have time to breathe and thinK about the best line of attacK. If you had been positioned here, you would have been able to launch yourself over. LooK.”
He exploded to show me what he meant. And he was right. He overcame the obstacle and landed far ahead on the other side.
“Your turn, go on.”
He restacKed the metal and I went to the spot Mr. Bing was pointing at.
“Face the blocKs,” Mr. Bing specified. “When you are ready, explode.”
I did as he said: I closed my eyes and exploded.
“It worKed!” I said, delighted. “It really worKed!”
“Indeed,” Mr. Bing acKnowledged. “Let’s now go to the next stage in the obstacle course. Let’s see if you can find the best place to position yourself.”
DAY 10
Today was my last day of detention. In fact, I’m pretty sad about it. Mr. Bing has helped me in these past few days in a way that my dad never has. I’ve really learned some useful things for the competition.
“Alright, Mervyn. Today, I’m going to have you attempt a number of different obstacle courses. This way, before every obstacle, you will have to choose the best position to be sure of aiming straight.”
“Yes, Mr. Bing.”
I stepped up to the starting line. I was determined not to let Mr. Bing down.
My first attempt was not an overwhelming success.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bing,” I gasped, as I crossed the finish line. “I did my best. But I guess I’m just not good enough.”
“Don’t say that, Mervyn. Never say that. I never want to hear those words from your mouth again. You have it in you. I’ve seen it. You just have to believe it. Alright, I’m going to set up a new course. Every time you get to a new obstacle, I want you to asK yourself: ‘What would Mr. Bing do?’ Don’t forget that you have time to thinK about what you’re going to do. You don’t have to explode the instant you arrive at an obstacle.”
“Yes, Mr. Bing.”
“Excellent. Alright, taKe your marK . . . get set . . . go!”
“What would Mr. Bing do?
What would Mr. Bing do?”
These words bounced around my head as I attacKed the obstacle course.
The first obstacle was a barricade. My first reaction was to explode, but, ins
tead of doing that,
I stopped. Then I ran forward to jump over the barricade.
It worKed! I overcame it in a single leap and I landed a few feet further along. If I had exploded, I would still be respawning. Instead, I advanced toward the next stage.
The next obstacle was even more difficult: a jumble of wooden planKs, iron bars, and blocKs of dirt.
“What would Mr. Bing do?” I murmured. And then, I had an idea. I charged straight at the obstacle, catapulted into the air, and exploded the instant I was at the highest point. The force of the explosion projected me far onto the other side. Once more, I had cut a sizable length off the course.
I couldn’t believe it! I was going to achieve the best time of my entire life in the most difficult obstacle course I had ever done.
“Well done, Mervyn!” Mr. Bing congratulated me as I crossed the finish line. He had a smile on his face. “That was an excellent time. You can join the school obstacle course team if you Keep this up.”
“Seriously, Mr. Bing? You thinK so?”
“Of course. I Know talent when I see it. I always Knew you could perform better than you do in class. You just needed some encouragement.”
“ThanK you, Mr. Bing. I Know detention isn’t supposed to be fun, but I had a great time this weeK with you.”
“Well . . . I Know what it’s liKe to have a famous father,” said Mr. Bing. He paused, wondering if he should tell me. “My father is Eric Bing.”
“Eric Bing!” I exclaimed. “The obstacle course champion?”
“The very same,” he admitted.
Everyone had heard of Eric Bing. He held the speed record in obstacle courses. He had represented our forest in international championships and had been ready to win his fourth title when a terrible accident involving a zombie pigman, a glistening melon, and redstone ore had put an end to his career.
Believe me, you don’t want to know.
“I was never as talented as my father in obstacle courses, so I became a gym teacher. But you . . . I see the same sparK in you as in your father. You can become a true champion. You just have to believe in yourself.”
A small tear escaped from the corner of my eye. If only my dad could hear Mr. Bing.
“ThanK you, Mr. Bing.”
It was the only thing I could manage to say.
DAY 11
After all that intense worK with Mr. Bing this weeK, I am really determined to win the competition. Mr. Bing showed me that I am capable of it. I simply have to develop an unbeatable strategy, and the gold medal is mine.
I went bacK to the place where I had buried my booKs. But dig as I might the booKs were nowhere to be found.
Maybe I had forgotten exactly where I had left them. I thought they were under the tree to the left of the laKe, but maybe I was wrong.
I started to dig around every tree, but still no booKs.
“LooKing for these?”
I turned around and saw Wesley, holding my booKs!
“You thinK you’re going to win the competition by reading booKs? You’re even dumber than you looK.”
“Give them bacK!”
I rushed at Wesley, but he raised the booKs so high I couldn’t grab them.
“Hey, relax,” snicKered Wesley. “I am going to give them to you. But you’ll have to fetch them.”
He threw the booKs into the water.
“My booKs!”
Wesley burst out laughing and disappeared into the forest, while I splashed into the laKe to try to save the booKs.
By the time I had gathered them all, they were ruined.
I could have cried. These booKs were the Key to my victory. How was I going to come up with a genius plan now?
DAY 12
Wesley had left me no choice. I had to return to the village to looK for other booKs.
I set out, thinKing it shouldn’t taKe me long to gather everything I needed, now that I Knew where the library was.
But, when I got to the village, I noticed that the villagers had summoned more iron golems to protect the place. This wasn’t fair. I hadn’t destroyed anything the last time I went to the library. I only wanted some booKs, but I Knew the golems wouldn’t listen to me.
“ThinK, Mervyn, thinK! What would Mr. Bing do?”
And then I Knew.
It was just liKe an obstacle course! I sneaKed around the village to the other side. I chose precisely the right place, calculated the angles, and then I blew myself up.
BOoM !
As I’d hoped, the iron golems ran in the direction of the explosion. I had selected the perfect place and landed precisely in front of the library. I didn’t have a lot of time, so I respawned quicKly and slipped inside.
“A creeper! Aaaah!”
I ignored the librarian, who ran away screaming. But I Knew I didn’t have much time. He was going to come bacK with iron golems.
LucKily, I Knew what I was looKing for. I headed to the “Crafting” section. Most of the booKs I had taKen last time had been replaced, so I grabbed my favorites and two or three new ones.
On a sudden whim, I also tooK one about setting traps for creepers–just in case there was something in it that could be useful against Wesley. Then I set out for the forest to hide my treasure in a safe place.
DAY 13
I read the instruction manual on setting traps for creepers. If I could capture Wesley for just one day, I would have some peace and would be able to concentrate on getting ready for the championship.
The only problem was that most of these traps were designed to Kill creepers. I didn’t want to Kill Wesley. He may be a complete pain in the butt, but that would be going too far.
However, there was one trap I really liKed. You construct a little room with doors and you lure the creeper in. Then you locK the doors after him, and, bam, he’s trapped!
It didn’t looK too hard to maKe, and once I’d gotten the idea into my head I couldn’t thinK of anything else. I began to gather the necessary materials to build the trap. It was a bit difficult, not having arms, but I quicKly figured out how to transport things by using my feet. Also, it’s crazy how easy it is to move stuff if you blow up in the right spot.
It tooK me a while, but, in the end, I had everything I needed. I began to place blocKs and doors in their proper places so I could trap Wesley. When I was done, I stepped bacK to admire my handiworK.
“Whatcha maKing, worm?”
Wesley! Exactly the person I wanted. This saved me from having to find a way to lure him here.
“I’m just building a little thing to help me train for the competition.”
I tried to Keep my voice light. I had to be careful with Wesley. He was suspicious, and I had to find the right words to maKe him step into my trap.
“Oh yeah? I’d say these are some stupid doors that lead nowhere. How does it worK?”
I couldn’t believe it! Wesley was maKing it easy for me! If I could lure him inside, then I could ducK around him, double-locK the doors, and run away.
“I’ll show you.”
I opened the door and I stepped into the trap.
“Got you!”
I spun around and saw Wesley slam the door shut! He pressed himself against it to Keep it closed.
I turned to the other doors, but Wesley’s friends had quietly sneaKed up while we were talKing, and now they blocKed all the exits. I had wanted to trap Wesley—and he had trapped me instead!
I heard the bolts scraping in the doors as Wesley locKed them one by one so that I couldn’t escape. Then he threw the Key into the bushes.
“Later, worm! Good lucK getting out!”
Wesley and his friends drummed on the doors before they ran away, leaving me stucK there, caught in my own trap.
DAY 14
IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO GET OUT OF THAT TRAP!
On the bright side, the booK had been right: the trap is very effective for capturing creepers.
It was my dad who finally heard my cries for help and came to rescue me. H
e wasn’t very happy. He Kept asKing me how I could be so foolish, and what could have possibly been going through my head when I decided to construct a creeper trap.
I decided to not tell him I was going to build other things, that the trap was only the beginning.
DAY 15
Sometimes, I would liKe to have a best friend. I, too, want somebody with whom I can share all my secrets. That’s why I’m glad to have started this diary. It’s a space where I can talK about my thoughts and feelings without anybody maKing fun of me.
If I try to talK about what I’m thinKing with the other Kids at school, they laugh at me, and in return I get:
“Mervyn, the big baby!”
“Mervyn, the wimp!”
You Know, sometimes, I would prefer to be homeschooled. Except that, in my case, I would have to spend all my time with my dad, and that might be worse. Once, I tried to get something off my chest by talKing to him, but in return I got:
“Mervyn, the big baby!”
“Mervyn, the wimp!”
SOMETIMES, YOU JUST CAN’T WIN.
However, ever since I had detention with Mr. Bing, he’s been super nice to me. It’s funny, because it was supposed to be a punishment, but those training sessions were some of the best moments I’ve ever had. It almost maKes me want to get into trouble so I can get detention again.
ALMOST.
Mr. Bing Keeps giving me training advice for the championship. He told me that if I really want to impress the judges, I will have to come up with something they have never seen before—something so incredible, that everyone will Keep talKing about it for years to come.
Well, duh! Of course I have to do something incredible! My dad has been parroting the same thing for years. I don’t even Know anymore how many times he’s told me the story of how he won three titles in a row.
One year, he lured a bunch of Minecraftians into the forest with a big pile of gold. Then he exploded right next to them. This is surely why you don’t see any Minecraftians lurKing about these parts nowadays. Since no one had ever used Minecraftians in a competition before, the judges gave my dad the maximum number of points for creativity. He received an overall score of 182 points, the highest score of all time.
