by Books Kid
But what is that marvelous creature, I hear you ask?
It was really so simple I could have kicked myself for not thinking of it sooner. That is . . . if I had any legs to kick with.
I WAS GOING TO DISGUISE MYSELF AS A SHEEP!
Think about it.
What is a sheep, if not a cube covered in wool?
It’s true that sheep also have legs, but I told myself I could do without them if I used enough wool. The other sheep would be so impressed by my fleece they wouldn’t even wonder why I jumped instead of walked—and, when they finally asked themselves that question, it would be too late.
It had been ages since I’d treated myself to a nice, juicy piece of mutton or lamb. It was time for me to sneak into the center of a flock.
Usually, I eat a sheep when one has wandered into the swamp, but, going by my experience in making the cow costume, one sheep would not be enough to provide all the wool I would need. It would take me forever to get my hands on enough wool if I only used the few sheep that came to the swamp. I was going to have to go where the sheep were.
I set out straight in the direction of the nearest farm, once again excited by the idea of making clothes. There wasn’t a minute to lose. I was going to create the most incredible sheep costume that Minecraftia had ever seen, and, after that, I would be on my way to becoming the very first slime fashion designer.
DAY 8
I got to the farm at sunrise, but the sunrise wasn’t the only thing I saw . . .
“A slime! Slime attack! Everyone to the southern wall! We’re under attack!”
A huge smile appeared on my face when I heard the panicked shouts coming from the farm.
I BASkED IN THE CHAOS AND CONFUSION THAT MY PRESENCE CREATED FOR HUMANS.
The farmers had reinforced their fences since the last time I’d passed this way. It was understandable. I had eaten a few shepherds as well as half a flock of sheep. Poor creatures. They had been no match for a determined slime.
This fence was not much of a deterrent, though. I cleared it in one jump and found myself in the field on the other side. I had come to take care of some sheep, but, faced with the shepherd and his men, my instinct took over. Slimes are the natural enemies of Minecraftians, and these particular ones were clearly ripe for the picking. I couldn’t pass up the chance to treat myself to a nice bit of human, since they were right in front of me.
One especially brave shepherd charged at me with an ax in his hand. I couldn’t keep myself from laughing when I saw his face. He was trying his best to look big and scary, but the only thing I could think when I saw him was, “Fast food!”
I quickly disarmed him by striking him in the chest. He fell to the ground, winded. Having knocked him down, I made sure he didn’t get up. The other humans wisely ran away when they saw how easily I finished him off.
Normally, I would have tracked down all of them until not a single one remained, but, because I was on a mission, I stopped myself.
A SHEPHERD WAS ENOUGH FOR AN APPETIZER. I HAD SHEEP TO MASSACRE!
IT’S REALLY EASY TO kILL SHEEP. YOU JUMP ON THEM AND—POOF!—THEY DIE OF FRIGHT, DROPPNG ALL THEIR WOOL.
I stopped counting how many sheep I took care of this way. In the end, there was so much wool on the ground I couldn’t carry it all with me.
HERE’S ANOTHER INCONVENIENT THING ABOUT BEING A SLIME: IF I HAD ARMS, I WOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO CARRY
MUCH MORE WOOL.
I did, however, manage to stick quite a lot of wool onto my sticky skin and stuff a lot more in my mouth. It tasted pretty awful, all muddy and filled with straw, but sometimes you have to suffer for your art. I was determined to bring home as much wool as possible, in order to figure out the best way to use it to create fashions.
Once my outfit was ready, I would go back to the farm to test it out.
If I managed to get to the barn without anyone discovering me, I WOULD BE SUPER PROUD OF MYSELF.
DAY 9
Looking back, I wish I had thought to collect more wool of the same color. But I had been so excited I’d just grabbed everything in sight. So, now I had pink, orange, black, and gray wool—all the colors of the rainbow. I had little bits of each color, but not enough of a single color to make an entire costume.
I would have to do the best I could with what I had. After all, you could dye wool, and I was sure that if I rolled around in swamp water the wool would all become dirty-gray, and that would do the trick.
First, I tried to stick the wool onto my body, trusting my natural sliminess to hold it in place. But, I quickly realized this wasn’t going to work. The wool slowly slipped down my side and ended up in a little puddle of goo on the ground.
I was going to have to make a frame to hold the wool in place. Once again, I decided to use vines. Thanks to my work on the cow costume, I had gotten pretty good at weaving—and the more of it I did, the better I became. Soon, I had a frame big enough to cover my whole cube.
Then, I began adding the wool. I slipped it through the weave and used a bit of my own goo to keep it in place. I spent the whole day on it. When I was done, I had something that looked a little bit like a sheep.
In fact, once I put it on, I looked a lot like a sheep!
I soaked the costume in swamp water to try to make it one color. It didn’t work as well as I’d hoped. You could still see some of the original colors showing through, but I told myself that if I stayed in the shade of a tree, no one would notice until they were next to me. And, by then, it would be too late.
I slipped on my costume and headed toward the farm.
TOMORROW, THEY’RE GOING TO GET THE SURPRISE OF THEIR LIVES!
DAY 10
I HAD A GOOD LAUGH AS I NEARED THE FARM.
Those idiot humans were working nonstop, trying to make their fences higher. As if that could keep a slime out!
To be honest, I wouldn’t even need to jump it. I could punch a hole in it pretty easily. If they really wanted to keep me out, they should have put out a bunch of traps and also made sure armed guards were patrolling the fence night and day. But, I’d still find a way in.
I was about to charge the fence when I remembered I was supposed to be a sheep—and sheep don’t break through fences. I couldn’t jump, either. If the humans saw me, they’d know I wasn’t really a sheep. I sighed. I’d have to take the long way around. I went back into the bushes before a Minecraftian could spot me. Then, I made my way along the fence until I found a section that didn’t have any humans around. With one leap I landed on top of the fence. Another little hop, and I was on the other side.
HA! THESE DUMB HUMANS WITH THEIR DUMB FENCES!
I heard sheep on my right, so I followed the sound, eager to see if my disguise would fool them. I came upon a big flock frolicking in the sunshine, so I hopped over to join them.
THIS WAS GOING TO BE FUN!
I looked around, expecting to see lots of sheep happy to welcome a new member to their flock. But, instead, they all froze in fear and stared at me.
“An intruder,” one of them brayed. “AN INTRUDER!”
“No, no,” I hurried to reassure them. “I’m a sheep, just like you. I have wool and everything!”
One sheep was braver than the others. She grabbed my costume with her teeth and tore it off in one quick motion, exposing the real me underneath.
“A SLIME!” all the sheep brayed before dashing off as quickly as their legs could carry them.
It wasn’t fair. I had worked so hard on my disguise. I was so proud of it—and it still didn’t work. And the worst thing: when that sheep pulled off my costume, she ripped it.
IT WAS RUINED.
I saw some wool scattered on the ground. It might even have been from the last time I attacked the farm. I decided to gather it up. Even if my test had been a failure, I still had high hopes for making something really special out of wool.
Maybe the problem with my sheep costume was that it had been too simple.
.
; I needed to aim higher.
Higher than sheep and higher than cows.
I knew exactly what I was going to do this time around, and it was going to be great!
DAY 11
“keep your eyes open and your swords at the ready. Slimes have already been spotted in this swamp.”
I heard the voices coming toward me, but I stayed crouched in my hiding place. I had known they were heading my way for a while now. Their odor stank up the whole swamp. Minecraftians don’t realize how much they reek. If only they didn’t use so much of that horrible soap stuff. They should what slimes do—never wash. We let our natural fluids ooze, and that keeps us in excellent health.
When they drew level with where I was hiding, I jumped on them.
“AAAAH!” they screamed and dropped their bags.
A couple of them ran away, but three others stood their ground, determined to fight. This was fine with me.
I charged the nearest Minecraftian, knocking him back with a mighty blow. One of the two remaining humans managed to hit me with his sword, but I made sure that was the last time he ever struck me. I launched a series of attacks on him, forcing him backward until he tripped over a rock and fell into a pool of mud. I didn’t stop, and he didn’t get up again.
The two remaining Minecraftians circled around me, looking for their best chance to attack. I feinted to my right, and the human who was there jumped back to avoid me. The one on the left drew forward, but I hit him with such force that I knocked him out.
Soon, all three Minecraftians were down, and I was able to feast at my leisure. But, though I would have loved to crunch on their bones, my main target, for once, was not the Minecraftians themselves. I had already gotten what I needed when I first attacked them. If these three humans had discovered my plans, they could have run away and lived to tell the tale.
It was their backpacks I was after—and, when I rummaged through them, I found exactly what I’d been hoping for.
DAY 12
I was too excited to sleep, so I got up at dawn to begin my work.
I looked at the Minecraftian clothes I had spread out in front of me. I’d carefully pulled apart all the stitches to see how the different parts had been assembled, and laid them out flat in order to study the shapes.
I didn’t know why I hadn’t done this from the beginning, instead of trying to reinvent the wheel. I learned so much from the humans about how they made their clothes, and it wasn’t what I’d expected. There were really so many different and easy ways to put together the separate pieces that, although I was a completely different shape than a Minecraftian, I still felt inspired by it all.
My next outfit was going to be a game changer.
DAY 13
ONCE AGAIN, I’D BEEN UP SINCE DAWN, WORkING AWAY ON MY CREATION. I WAS ON FIRE!
I weaved, I sewed, I glued leather and wool and everything else I could find that I thought would make my outfit better.
My stomach was rumbling, but I ignored it. You have to suffer for your art—and I wasn’t about to go hunting Minecraftians while I had this streak of inspiration. I didn’t want to risk losing it.
“What are you making there, slime?”
Tiffin the witch came wandering over to stick her nose in my business, as usual. I was still annoyed at her, for making fun of my cow costume, so I pretended not to hear her. Instead I focused on a tricky bit of sewing.
“You’re not making another stupid costume, are you?”
She stuck her head right in front of me to sniff at one of my seams, forcing me to stop working.
“You are!” she chuckled. “I don’t know why you’re trying so hard. You will never be anything except a block of goo.”
“Get away from here, witch!” I growled at her.
“Now, now, mind your manners.” she teased, but she wisely stepped back before I could attack her. I don’t eat witches, as a general rule. They taste weird, and when you get rid of one witch, two more arrive to take her place, causing a whole bunch of problems in the slime community. Though Tiffin was annoying, she was our local witch and we were used to her little quirks. It would be a real pain if we had a new witch move in and had to train her on how we did things.
After a pause, Tiffin added:
“You know, your outfit will be much better if you infuse the cloth with a potion.”
“A potion?”
“Oh, yes. Many Minecraftians use enchantments to make their armor stronger. You could use a potion of strength on your outfit to make it stronger. What’s more, it will give you extra protection, in case you are ever attacked.”
“A potion of strength?”
THIS WASN’T A BAD IDEA, BUT I DIDN’T WANT THE WITCH TO SEE THAT I WAS INTRIGUED.
I wasn’t going to flatter her ego. It was already big enough.
“Do you have to repeat everything I say?” sighed the witch. “Do you have a problem with your hearing, or what?”
I looked away and ignored her questions.
“In any case, if you finally decide that you want a potion of strength, I have a lot in stock. I would be more than happy to sell you one at an honest price. If you need me, you can find me in my hut.”
Tiffin took off and left me to think about her offer. Perhaps a potion was what my clothes had been missing all along. After all my disasters with cow and sheep costumes, it was certainly worth a try.
DAY 14
I was up all night working on my latest creation and, at last, it was finished. I stood back to admire my handiwork. I had outdone myself, and was excited to try it on, but first I wanted to soak it in a potion of strength, as Tiffin had suggested. I didn’t want to risk it tearing when I put it on.
I hopped to the witch’s hut and knocked on the door.
“Ah, Slibertius!” Tiffin was happy to see me. “I was wondering when you’d stop by. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist one of my potions. They’re the best in all of Minecraftia, you know.”
Of course they were. Tiffin was always bragging about being the best at everything.
“JUST GIVE ME THE POTION ALREADY,” I grumbled.
“Tsk, tsk, not so fast,” she said, shaking her finger at me. “I told you I would sell you one. Did you think I’d change my mind overnight and just let you have it for free?”
“Well, yeah. I could always just take it if I really wanted to,” I said, menacingly.
“Oh, really?” Tiffin tapped her foot, raised her eyebrows, and crossed her arms. “I’d like to see you try, goo-head! Don’t forget you’re in my house! You wouldn’t stand a chance against my potions. Fine, maybe you could beat me in a fight—but, without me, you couldn’t even tell my potions apart. You wouldn’t want to wind up with a potion of weakness or a potion of harming, would you? The results would be very funny—but probably not what you’d want.”
This witch was making a big mistake if she thought she could win against me, even with the help of all her potions—but she raised a good point. I had no idea which potion was in which bottle. I didn’t want to risk ruining all my hard work by picking the wrong one.
“Fine. How much for a potion of strength?”
“For you?” The witch thought for a moment. “I’m running low on spider eyes. Bring me twenty, and you can have your potion.”
“Twenty spider eyes!” I exclaimed. “It’s going to take forever to collect them all.”
“Very well, then. If you’re going to start complaining, we can make it twenty-four,” Tiffin said, shrugging her shoulders. “A spider has eight eyes, so you only need to catch three spiders. But be careful. I don’t take damaged goods, so if they’re not in perfect condition, I will send you back to fetch me twice as many.”
“It’s a deal,” I sighed. “I will find you twenty-four spider eyes. But this potion better be effective—otherwise I’ll be back. And no matter how many potions you throw at me, I’ll be having witch for dinner.”
DAY 15
SPIDERS. I HATE SPIDERS.
Why did
the witch have to send me after the only thing in the world I try to avoid?
Just the thought of those horrible eight-legged creatures was enough to send shivers down my spine. Spiders are the natural enemies of slimes, and we’d come to an agreement where they stayed on their side of the swamp while we stayed on ours, so we didn’t have to deal with each other. But now, I was going to have to plunge myself into the heart of spider territory, and the thought filled me with dread.
Still, a potion of strength would be the perfect finishing touch for my outfit, so if I needed twenty-four spider eyes to complete it, then I would kill three, four . . . HECk! I would kill TEN spiders if I needed to, until I got everything the witch wanted.
Then, my costume would be done, and I could show it to the world.
DAY 16
I hopped through the swamp, looking for spiderwebs. I made it to the darkest, coldest, nastiest part of the swamp, a place spiders loved and slimes avoided. The spiders’ hairy legs were so revolting they gave me goosebumps, not to mention their huge eyes.
There was, however, one good thing about looking for spiders.
It made me realize there was one thing even uglier than a slime.
I was never going to make myself a spider costume. If I’d struggled with four legs, imagine what it must be like to coordinate eight legs.
YUCk!
I was so deep in thought, thinking about how ugly spiders are, that, without realizing it, I’d jumped smack into the middle of a spiderweb. The sticky threads stuck to my slime, and I had to dunk myself in the nearest puddle to wash it all off.
