by Cat Crafter
Behind me I heard the villagers say:
“Just let it go!”
“Not worth the trouble.”
“Man, we’re going to have to burn these clothes!”
I paddled away proud that I had won!
Sea Sick
Being on the water made me feel all queasy inside. I was not in a good way. My gut felt like it wanted to jump up and empty itself from my mouth. I’d barfed before and it’s always made me feel better and lighter. But while pushing and paddling on a log through the water, I didn’t think it would be a good time to barf. So I kept rowing and rowing.
I tried to get my mind off the barfing by thinking of something else. I thought of an old zombie song and hummed and sang it to myself as I rowed.
We are zombies mean and proud
We are zombies and we’re loud
We are zombies we smell really bad
We are zombies we’ll drive you mad
We are zombies boo boo boo
We are zombies hoo hoo hoo
We are zombies see us and run
We are zombies we hate the sun!!!
You’re supposed to fart while singing the song but I left that part out. No point in wasting good farts when you’re the only one around to smell them.
I kept humming and paddling, paddling and humming. It didn’t help a lot, but it didn’t hurt either. I could see the far off land getting closer and closer.
Soon I would have a new biosphere to explore. Maybe there I could find a friend. I mean a friend besides my good bud, Pete the Potato. Pete is cool but he’s the strong silent type. He’s great at listening to my problems but never good at coming up with solutions. Unless the solution is to stand there and just be quiet. Which I guess can work at times. I had Pete out on the front of the log I was paddling on. I figured he made a good look out. After all he does have a bunch of eyes.
I saw a gray fin sticking out of the water.
The fin drew closer and closer to me.
“Pete do you think I should be worried about that?” I asked.
As always, Pete had no answer for me. I stopped paddling and sat up on my log. Out of instinct I pulled the stick I was using to row out of the water and held it over my head. There was something about the way the fin zigged and zagged towards me that I didn’t like. Not sure how, but I got the feeling that whatever was connected to that fin was hungry and it thought I could satisfy that hunger.
The fish leap out of the water, it had a lot of teeth…lots and lots of big white teeth. The big gray fish headed towards me, chomping away. I guess it was anxious.
“Ah, Mr Big Scary Fish thing, I can tell you’re hungry, but you know us zombies…we don’t taste good. I’ve been told we taste like dirt mixed with poop, mixed with something even worse!”
Actually I had never been told that, I found that out myself when I licked my hand once. I didn’t like it. I didn’t think the big fish with the big teeth would either. But it kept coming, mouth still chomping away. I guess it was so hungry it didn’t mind that I didn’t taste good. Either that or it didn’t believe me. I guess I wouldn’t have believed me either.
The big fish with lots of teeth lifted is triangular snout out of the water. Its mouth was wide open, showing me ALL its teeth. I whacked it on its snout with my stick. The big fish closed its mouth and dove under the water. It swam under me. Somehow I knew that would not be the end of it.
“You will not be dinning on me today!” I shouted.
I got the not so funny feeling that this big yucky fish would just swinging around for another run at me. Sure enough the fin that had been speeding away from me stopped. It started darting back in my direction. I considered trying to out paddle it, but being a fish and used to the water, I figured that would be silly. I had to stand my ground, well sit on my log and get ready to fight. This time I would whack him with both my sticks.
The big toothy gray fish drew nearer. His mouth shot out of the water and opened wide. I hit him inside the mouth with one stick. I clobbered him on top of the head with the other. I really leaned into that last blow so I could make it count. The fish disappeared back under the log I balanced on. The bad news was the big brute pushed the log over with his big fish butt. I fell face first into the water.
“Yuck, yuck, yuck!” I shouted splashing around in the water.
I did not like this feeling of being soggy and cold. Mega super yuck! The big fish noticed me splashing around in the mucky water. It instantly turned and raced towards me. I would have been impressed by its speed and grace if I hadn’t been so scared. I figured my only chance was to swim back to my log, get on it and race away.
I swam towards the log as fast as my square legs and arms would take me. I noticed something bobbing it the water. It was Pete! My good buddy - Pete the potato. I couldn’t leave Pete alone in the water. I stopped to pick him up, taking my eyes off the approaching big fish. I mean come on, Pete is my friend. Friends don’t let friends bob in water. The big fish didn’t take its eyes off of me though. By the time I looked back at the fish it was right on top of me. It opened its mouth wide getting ready to gobble up my head.
“Fine!” I shouted into the fish’s mouth.
The fish closed its giant mouth around my head. I was doomed. But then fish’s mouth opened wide. It starting gagging and coughing. Looking into its beady eyes that were rolling in its head. The fish shook its head from side to side. It turned and swam away slowly….
I shook my fist at it and shouted, “See I told you I didn’t taste good! If you just had listened to me I’d be dryer and you wouldn’t have a terrible zombie taste in your mouth!”
I got back up on my log. I started heading towards the land.
“See Mr. Pete, you’re the only one who ever really listens to me!”
Land HO!
After what seemed like many hours, but more likely was just an hour, I paddled my log onto the land. I kind of like the green hilly area I landed in. The green color reminded me of me. I had a good feeling about this! Maybe just maybe, here is where I would meet an adventurer. Not one that wanted to clobber me, but one that wanted to hang out with me. We’d be cool buddies. Telling each other jokes. Playing pranks on each other. Farting at each other, you know the real fun buddy stuff. Hopefully Pete the potato wouldn’t get jealous. I thought Pete would be pretty cool, after all he is a ‘chilled out’ kind of potato.
I did not enjoy walking with wet pants. They not only felt weird like I had a fish in my pants, but they also made a funny squishing noise with each step I took. Yeah I wasn’t going to be sneaking up on anybody while wearing these pants. Good thing I didn’t want to sneak up on anybody. That’s not a good way to start a friendship by jumping out and freaking somebody out. I learned that the hard way. Once I jumped out in front of some guy I believe was called Steve.
I leapt in front of him and raised my hands and meant to say “Hey there!” Somehow my nerves blocked my mouth and the words came out, “Hog og!!”
Steve drew his diamond sword and attempted to take off my head.
I guess I can’t blame him. A zombie shouting “Hog og!” isn’t really a cry for friendship. Lucky for me Steve got distracted by an Enderman before he had a chance to run me in. Giving me a chance to run away. And run I did. Like they say, ‘You never get another chance to make a first impression’. Mine failed – epically.
I did learn from the encounter. I learned diamond swords look really cool. And probably more importantly, I learned don’t jump out at adventurers with diamond swords, especially if you are a zombie waving your arms. It leaves a bad impression.
I walked towards this big hill I saw in the distance. Not sure why. It just seemed interesting. It caught my eye. I figured might as well go and check it out. I like hills they are a pain to get up but so easy to go down.
The square orange sun had started dropping in the sky. I knew it would be dark soon. Normally I love the dark, since well sun burns zombie skin. In the night I don’t have to w
ear my hat! Heck, I technically don’t need to wear any clothing at night. But I don’t think I want to run around without clothing on. Others might laugh at my big butt or something. Plus, just because I happened to be a zombie that didn’t mean I had to be undignified. Plus, without clothing dirt could get into places I didn’t need or want dirt getting into.
Today though I’d actually miss the sun, a little, as it’s heat was drying my pants somewhat. I still made a squish squish sound with each leg movement but the sound become less and less notable with each step.
All in all, being a zombie I prefer the dark over the light. When the sun finally set I took of my helm. The wind in my hair felt good. I decided to sit down, on the base of the hill to take a load off my feet and just rest a bit. After all, climbing up this hill would take some energy. The damp night ground felt cold under my butt. I farted just to warm it up some. Farts have many practical uses.
Farts can also have a downside, well besides the massive stink. They make a noise. This one made a nice loud entertaining FLLLLLLUUUUUUURRT sound. The sound told anything that may be lurking around…that I was around. That’s one of the down sides of traveling at night. Other icky mobs also travel at night.
I listened carefully to see if I could hear anything. Sadly, I heard the click click click sound of moving bones. Skeletons! The clicking sounds grew louder which meant they were getting closer. I stood up. I turned and saw a bunch of skeletons clamoring towards me. Yep, this was not a good thing.
I stood there quietly. Maybe the nasty skeletons had just heard my fart and hadn’t seen me yet? One of them pointed at me. The others shook their heads. Yeah no such luck! They saw me and we clamoring towards me. I knew my only chance was to beat them to the top of the hill and then roll down the other side. Zombies roll a lot better than skeletons who tend to break apart when they roll.
I shot up the hill. And by shot I mean I moved as fast as my legs and the squish squish sound would take me. The skeleton pack started in pursuit. I could the click clap of their bones. I also could hear the squish squash of my pants with each step I took, higher and higher up the hill! I knew all I needed to do was get to the top! Once there I would be safe and home free.
My foot hit a pebble or a rock or something. I stopped moving forward and started tilting backwards. I tried to hold my balance. I failed once again - epically. I started rolling downhill at the skeleton. I felt and heard each skeleton as a rolled and crashed into them.
SQUISH! SQUASH! SMASH!!! CRACK!!!! Clink clink clink…
I heard that a few times. It’s really hard to count when your rolling backwards down a hill. Finally, I stopped rolling. I stood up. I prepared myself to be attacked by charging skeletons. Nothing happened. Looking at the bottom of the hill I saw a bunch of shattered skeleton bones. Well what do you know? I had rolled them all over! Yep these skeletons wouldn’t be a problem anymore. I had defeated a bunch of mobs by falling and rolling. Man, I was either really amazing or really lucky. Heading up the hill I decided to consider myself both amazing and lucky.
When the stomach calls…
I climbed up the hill. And then rolled down the other side of the hill. I had blast doing it. Sure I didn’t take out a bunch of nasty skeletons this time but rolling down a hill is always great. I love the feeling of spinning I get when I stand up after a good roll. It’s cool to see the earth spinning when you know it’s not really.
My stomach also started spinning. Not just spinning, but also rumbling loudly.
GURGLE GURRGGLE GUURRGLLEEE
Yep, I hadn’t eaten in a bit. If you follow my adventures, you’ll know that I LOVE tacos and fried chicken. Sadly though, I hardly even run into tacos or fried chicken. I usually make do with what’s around me.
Here in the big field I was surrounded by grass and more grass. A few trees dotted the landed here and here but I thought I’d start with grass. After all, sheepies love grass! Sheepies are pretty smart. They must know what they are doing.
Bending over I grabbed a hand full of grass. I popped the grass in my mouth and chewed. I tasted like nothing. But it was even worse than nothing, if you know what I mean. Nope grass didn’t cut it. Ha, I made a joke. Not a great one but I do have a zombie brain. Time to get my zombie brain back on track, to finding FOOD. I looked at one of the bark covered trees and shrugged my square shoulders. “I guess I have nothing to lose,” I mumbled to myself.
I walked over to the biggest tree. I looked up. A big black bird sat on a branch above me.
“Cah cah!” it cried.
I picked a piece of bark off the tree. I tossed it in my mouth. I chewed and chewed and chewed. Wow, it felt like eating a rock. (Don’t ask me how I know what eating rocks feels like!)
After many many more chews I felt I had ground down the bark enough to swallow. I gulped it down. That bark had a lot of bark to it. It tasted like wet rotten feet, but not as good. (Don’t ask me how I know what wet rotten feet tastes like!) I spat out the bark.
Blah blah blah….
I actually felt bent over in hopes of barfing.
“There are times when barfing can be good and this happened to be one of those times,” I heard from above.
HA HAH HAHH!!
I looked up in the tree. The big black bird pointed at me and kept laughing.
“Trust me this isn’t funny at all!” I told the bird, opening my mouth so he could see the gross bark inside it. The bird spun around on his branch. He dropped his bird butt. I should have figured this out quicker. The bird pooped some white bird poop at me. I closed my mouth just in time. I didn’t get the poop in my mouth, just on my forehead. Better…but not much better.
Using my sleeve to wipe the poop off, I said, “Not nice bird! Pooping on a guy when he’s hungry and just ate bark, shame on you!”
The big black bird pointed at me with a wing and started laughing again.
CAHAACAHHHHAAAHAHA!
I crossed my arms and glared at the bird. “How rude!”
The bird spun around again. I’m not that dense. I knew what he had planned. Now way any bird poops on me twice. I’m no N00B! I spun and aimed my butt at the bird. I fired off a big zombie fart.
FRRRRUUUUUURTTTTTTTTTTTT!!
The bird put its wings to its throat. It dropped from the tree like a brick falling off a wall. I walked over and picked up the bird. “Sorry, you asked for that!” I told it. Looked like I’d be eating bird for dinner after all. Sure, it wasn’t exactly as tasty as fried chicken. But when a zombie is hungry…a zombie makes do.
I took a bite. I spat out the feathers. Yep, even with the feathers, the black bird tastes better than bark or grass! I knew I’d be traveling forward with a full tummy!
Oops….
I munched away on my black bird meal. Sure it tasted a little raw, but when you’re already mostly dead raw doesn’t matter. Yep, not nearly as tasty as fried chicken but when you’re out adventuring you take what you can get. Once I got rid of the feathers the black bird had an okay taste to it. Certainly better than going hungry.
I had to admit even the feathers tickled in my mouth which was kind of neat. I chomped away on a bird beak – don’t judge me, I realized that Pete the Potato might want some of this. He probably wouldn’t. He never wants to eat when I do. When I ask him he just sits there. Pete’s a shy potato. But still it’s always polite to ask. That’s what friends do.
I reached into my left pocket where I always kept Pete. Didn’t feel him in there. I reached further it. Nope, no Pete. I reached into my right pocket just in case. I got confused. I do that sometimes. Pete didn’t seem to be in there. I wiggled my fingers. Nope still no Pete. I reached into my back pocket, maybe I had put Pete there. Nope, no Pete there.
I yelled out. “Pete! Where are you?”
No answer.
I figured maybe I needed to be more specific. “Pete, Pete the Potato, where are you?” I called out.
Still nothing. Well a couple of bird cawed at me.
Okay, this called fo
r me calling out even more specifically. “Pete, my Pete Potato where are you? Please answer me!”
Nope. No answer.
Maybe Pete was being extra scared and therefore extra quiet or he couldn’t talk now due to being knocked out or something. Okay, yeah I know Pete never really answers me. But I also knew if he was lost, which he was, he could be in great danger. If a villager found him he could end up as fries or even worse - potato salad!
I started to retrace my steps. All the while looking down scanning the ground for Pete. Trying to be logical, I figured Pete probably fell out of my pocket when I tumbled down the hill. That made the most sense. Years of falling on my face and butt have taught me that when I fall things I have with me, also fall. My things are quite loyal to me. I like that. And of course nobody was more loyal than Pete the Potato.
Poking around on one side of the hill, the side without the beat up skeletons, I found nothing. Well I found dirt and grass and some rocks, so not nothing. But no Pete. I had to hike back up the hill. I needed to check the other side. I couldn’t leave Pete there, he’d be scared.
