Get a Job, Creep Read online

  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

  Mob School Swap

  Field Trip to the Taiga

  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: GET A JOB, CREEP.

  Copyright © 2019 by Hollan Publishing, Inc.

  Minecraft® is a registered trademark of Notch Development AB.

  The Minecraft game is copyright © Mojang AB.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

  Sky Pony Press books may be purchased in bulk at special discounts for sales promotion, corporate gifts, fund-raising, or educational purposes. Special editions can also be created to specifications. For details, contact the Special Sales Department, Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018 or [email protected].

  Sky Pony® is a registered trademark of Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.®, a Delaware corporation.

  Visit our website at www.skyponypress.com.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  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: 978-1-5107-4104-1

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-5107-4124-9

  Printed in the United States of America

  CONTENTS

  DAY 1: SATURDAY

  DAY 3: MONDAY

  DAY 4: TUESDAY

  DAY 7: FRIDAY

  DAY 8: SATURDAY

  DAY 10: MONDAY

  DAY 12: WEDNESDAY

  DAY 14: FRIDAY

  DAY 15: SATURDAY

  DAY 16: SUNDAY

  DAY 17: MONDAY

  DAY 18: TUESDAY

  DAY 19: WEDNESDAY

  DAY 20: THURSDAY

  DAY 21: FRIDAY

  DAY 23: SUNDAY

  DAY 24: MONDAY

  DAY 25: TUESDAY

  DAY 26: WEDNESDAY

  DAY 27: THURSDAY

  DAY 28: FRIDAY

  DAY 29: SATURDAY

  DAY 30: SUNDAY

  DAY 1: SATURDAY

  No more pencils,

  No more enchanted books,

  No more of Mrs. Enderwoman’s

  DIRTY looks!

  Summer’s here! YAAAASSSSSSS!!!!!

  Tonight was my FIRST night of freedom, and I spent it with my good buddy Sam Slime. I thought we’d do something FUN, like jumping on his trampoline or writing rap songs or playing my new videogame. It’s called HUMANCRAFT, and it’s all about building villages for humans and then sending creepers and zombies into the villages to see how many humans you can freak out. (Good times.)

  So you can imagine my surprise when Sam said he wanted to go look at KITTENS. Um . . . WHAT now?

  I reminded Sam that creepers and kittens don’t exactly get along. Well, creepers and CATS don’t get along—no matter how much Sam wants me to be BFFs with his cat, Moo.

  But Sam said this new Critters Unlimited store opened up at the Mob Mall, and he REALLY wanted to go see the kittens.

  When I heard about the store, I figured I should go with Sam—not to check out the kittens, but to see if the store sold any squids, like my pet squid Sticky. I’ve been thinking about getting him a buddy.

  So I went with Sam to Critters Unlimited, and they DID have squid! I ditched Sam by the kittens, and then I walked past the rabbits (meh), the spiders (gross), and the silverfish and endermite farms. (SERIOUSLY??? Mobs PAY for that kind of thing?)

  Before I could even get to the squid, I spotted something else:

  PARROTS.

  I’ve been on a parrot kick ever since I saw one in Kid Z’s newest video. Kid Z is my favorite rapper, and he actually taught his PARROT how to rap too. It’s true—I wouldn’t lie about that kind of thing! The bird sits on Kid Z’s shoulder and repeats anything that comes out of Kid Z’s mouth. ANYTHING. It even DANCES! The rapping parrot video got a gazillion likes online. It probably broke some kind of record.

  So as soon as I saw the parrots at Critters Unlimited, I KNEW I had to have one. I mean, if Kid Z’s rapping parrot can go viral, why can’t mine?

  I picked out one that looked exactly like Kid Z’s—a big red bird with a black beak and yellow and blue patches on its wings and tail. THAT was the bird for me, I was sure of it. I mean, until I checked the price tag.

  400 EMERALDS? REALLY??? You could buy a used MINECART for that price!

  So I walked down the aisle past all the red, green, and grey birds until I found the SMALLEST parrot—a tiny turquoise guy with a patch of green above his beak and a bright yellow belly. That bird was selling for 150 emeralds, which seemed like a real bargain, let me tell you.

  At least that’s what I told my dad when I got home.

  Dad barely looked up from the book he was reading. “Better start saving your allowance then,” was all he said.

  But Dad KNOWS I’m not a save-your-emeralds kind of creeper. Emeralds are like hot potatoes. Give me a few, and I can hardly WAIT to toss them back over the counter down at the toy store or candy store or fireworks store.

  I had a better idea: “How about an advance on my allowance?” I get 10 emeralds a week. So I figured I’d only need an advance for 15 weeks, which is about how long summer lasts. “And I’ll never ask for an advance again,” I threw in there, just to sweeten the deal for Dad.

  He set down his book. He not only set it down, but he closed it, without even marking his spot—which was NOT a good sign.

  “Gerald,” said Dad, “emeralds don’t grow on trees.” Then he said a bunch of other stuff, like “Nobody gets anything for free” and “You have to work for what you want, because then you’ll appreciate it more.” But all I heard was BLAH, BIDDY, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH.

  It was pretty obvious that Dad was giving me a big fat NO.

  Then he REALLY took things too far. “Gerald,” he said, “I think it’s time for you to get a JOB.”

  WHOA. Where’d THAT come from? I blame it on my big sister, Cate. She’s gone all summer lifeguarding at some beach with coral reefs and swimming turtles. (Between you and me, she packed a LOT of bathing suits, so I think she’s in it for the boys. But WHATEVER.)

  I knew the “get a job” conversation was going nowhere good, so I tried creeping out of the room. I mean, a creeper has to know when to cut his losses and run. But Mom blocked the doorway. “A job?” she said. “What a great idea!” (I really hate it when grown-ups gang up on me like that.)

  Dad practically jumped out of his chair and said, “How about yardwork? You could mow our lawn. You could mow the NEIGHBOR’s lawn!”

  GREAT idea, Dad.

  I’m pretty sure I’ve never even set foot on the neighbor’s lawn. Why? Because that’s trespassing, and I’m a law-abiding c
reeper.

  Also, our neighbor has a mean old ocelot that I call Sir Coughs-a-Lot. And that cat and I made a deal a long time ago that he’d stay on his side of the fence, and I’d stay on mine. So I will NOT be going over there to mow the lawn any time soon.

  Then Mom jumped on Dad’s minecart and threw out a few lousy ideas too. “You could help out at the farm, Gerald—you know, where you learned to ride a pig. I hear they’ve got llamas now!”

  Well, I couldn’t believe Mom was bringing THAT place up again. First of all, I did NOT learn to ride a pig. I mean, I tried. But let’s just say that pig-riding didn’t really work out for me.

  Second, I like llamas about as much as I like pigs. And Mom KNOWS that, because we all had to ride llamas last summer when our minecart broke down in the middle of the desert. (But that’s a whole other story.)

  “Yeah, I think I’ll take a pass on that one,” I told Mom.

  I figured Dad would back me up, because he likes llamas even less than I do. But all he said was, “Why?

  Give us ONE good reason why you shouldn’t mow lawns or do farmwork to earn those emeralds, Gerald.”

  That’s when I started to sweat. I really didn’t appreciate being put on the spot like that. But then it hit me. I couldn’t do those jobs because they would make me SWEAT. And sweating makes me itchy. And I ALREADY have really itchy skin.

  So I told Dad that. I was pretty proud of myself for thinking on my feet, let me tell you.

  But Dad just said, “A little sweat never hurt a creeper. When I was your age, son, I had to work in the MINES all summer, blowing up tunnels. I sweat bucket-loads, and then I had to carry those buckets all the way out of the mine at the end of each day.”

  HA! Good story, Dad. I wanted to laugh out loud, but then he’d probably launch into another story about how he had to walk ten miles across the Taiga to get to school every night. And then walk through hot lava in the Nether just to get home again each morning. Why do grown-ups have to be so DRAMATIC???

  Anyway, I knew I had to put a stop to that conversation before things got REALLY out of hand.

  So I told Dad I thought getting a job was a GREAT idea, and that I wished I’d thought of it myself, and that it would really teach me a lot about the value of an emerald. Yup, I laid it on pretty thick.

  I closed with “I’m going to come up with a few ideas all on my own. You know, because I’ll appreciate them more that way.”

  Then I crept out of the room before Mom could block the door again.

  Genius, right?

  So now I’m back in my room, ready to make a plan for how to get that parrot. I think it looks something like this:

  Yup, I’m going to come up with my own genius money-making idea. But I’ll come up with it all on my own, Dad—thank you very much.

  DAY 3: MONDAY

  Okay, well I didn’t think up the perfect job ALL on my own. I mean, it wouldn’t be fair to leave my good buddy Sam out of this money-making opportunity, right?

  So as soon as I woke up last night, I went over to his house. I found him jumping on the trampoline with Ziggy Zombie, which was kind of a letdown. I mean, if Sam and I came up with a get-rich-quick idea, we’d probably have to split the money THREE ways now. Bummer.

  Anyway, I got right to the point. “Sam!” I said, “I bet you’re saving money for one of those kittens you saw at Critters Unlimited, right?”

  I was surprised when he shook his jiggly head no. “I’m saving for a tablet,” he reminded me.

  Oh, CRUD. I’d almost forgotten that Sam’s tablet was broken. And I’d really tried to forget the fact that I was the one who broke it during our field trip to the Taiga. Let’s just say that a creeper should NOT try to video his run down a frozen waterfall using a tablet he borrowed from his best friend.

  When it happened, I promised Sam that I would chip in on a new tablet for him. I didn’t really think that one through—I mean, I would have said pretty much anything just to make him stop blubbering.

  But now I wished I could eat those words. I mean, how am I supposed to help Sam buy a tablet AND save for a parrot at the same time?

  So I changed the subject. “How’d you like to find a genius way to make some money?” I asked.

  Ziggy stopped jumping, wiped the drool off his chin, and said, “I’m making money this summer by baby-zombie-sitting.”

  HUH. That was an idea I hadn’t thought of. I mean, I watch my baby sister, Cammy, all the time, but I’ve never gotten even a single emerald for it. I asked Mom about paying me once, but she was like, “Spending time with your siblings is not WORK, Gerald.”

  Easy for Mom to say. SHE doesn’t have an Evil Twin who makes her life miserable, an older sister who gets all mopey over boys, and a baby sister who ruins her stuff by exploding a gazillion times a day. Yup, I really hit the jackpot in the sibling department.

  But Ziggy’s baby sister, Zoe, is actually pretty cool. We’ve had some good times together, making up nursery raps and stuff.

  “How much do your parents pay for baby-zombie-sitting?” I asked, all cool and casual like. “I could probably help out with that.”

  Then Sam had to ruin the moment by asking me to help babysit HIS baby brothers too. And that’s NEVER going to happen. Why, you ask? Because those mini slimes are gross and snotty and oozing stuff ALL the time. Mr. and Mrs. Slime couldn’t pay me enough to hang out with the triplets, let me tell you.

  “OR . . . ” I said, thinking fast, “maybe we could do some CRITTER-sitting.” I figured if I brought up critters, Sam would start talking about Moo and would totally forget about babysitting.

  Except that plan backfired too. Because right away Sam asked me to watch Moo while he’s at camp next month. And then Ziggy asked if I could watch his pet SPIDER when he goes on a family minecart trip in August. GREAT.

  “Um, I think I have to keep my schedule open in case Eddy Enderman needs help walking his wolf,” I said.

  It wasn’t my best comeback. I mean, I want to walk a wolf about as much as I want to spider-sit. But I had to say SOMETHING.

  Luckily, Ziggy Zombie had just come up with a NOT-so-genius idea of his own. “We could sell stuff at the market!” he said. “Like humans do.”

  Ziggy’s kind of obsessed with human villages. He likes to wander in and scare the humans every chance he gets. It’s a zombie thing, I guess.

  But I pointed out a couple of problems with Ziggy’s plan. First of all, I reminded him, mobs aren’t ALLOWED at the market. I mean, humans would just run away screaming—and take their emeralds with them. Second, the market is open during the daytime, and Ziggy can’t be outside in the daytime. (I guess he gets a sunburn or something.) “But other than THOSE teeny-tiny little problems,” I said, “it was a REALLY good idea, Zigs.” Sometimes you have to throw a zombie a bone.

  After that, we were fresh out of ideas. And it was looking like I wouldn’t be buying a parrot any time soon.

  Then I got home this morning, and EVERYTHING turned around—thanks to Mom.

  See, I guess all my talk about earning emeralds inspired Mom to get a job. Yup, she signed up yesterday to be a rep for Restore Your Health Incorporated. It’s this company that sells vitamins, minerals, and other healthy stuff. But it’s not an actual store. Mom gets to sell the stuff right out of our house!

  She opened up a box and showed me some of her products:

  • Dried kelp and seagrass, which are full of something called “antioxidants.” (I didn’t ask Mom what that meant, because I was afraid she would make me eat some of that green powder straight up. GROSS.)

  • Fish oil, which is good for your heart, skin, and hair. (Too bad it also smells like the dead fish floating belly-up at the swamp.)

  • Dandelion tea: Those bright yellow flakes are supposed to help with upset stomachs and gas, Mom says. (Remind me to pocket some of that for Sam. The slime is VERY gassy.)

  After she put her products away, Mom got all up in my face and said, “Gerald, you TOO could be the nex
t rep for Restore Your Health Incorporated.”

  Say WHAT?

  When I told Mom I was probably too young, she laughed and said she was just practicing her sales pitch. I guess if she can convince two more friends to become reps by the end of the month, Mom gets 20 PERCENT of their sales.

  Well, I’m pretty good at math. So I know that 20 percent of 100 emeralds is 20 emeralds. And that 20 percent of 1000 emeralds is 200 emeralds. Mom could earn 200 emeralds for doing practically NOTHING—just for working with a couple of friends. Talk about a genius way to make money!

  So now I’m wondering how I can get a piece of that action. Can I sign up my OWN friends for some kind of sales gig? And take a cut?

  I may not be big on yardwork or farming or babysitting or catsitting, but I AM big on ideas. I mean, I’m the ideas guy. It’s about time I started earning emeralds for those ideas, right?

  So now I’ve got some thinking to do. And some friends to go see tonight, as soon as I get up.

  That parrot is pretty much in the bag—er, on my shoulder. I can hear the rapping already . . .

  DAY 4: TUESDAY

  So Mom’s still looking for mobs to join Restore Your Health Incorporated. I might have to give her a few pointers, because last night, I signed up TWO employees with Gerald Creeper Jr. Incorporated. Yup. Pretty proud of that.

  I mean, Sam wasn’t totally on board at first. I had to sweeten the deal by saying I’d chip in on his new tablet. (You know, since I was the one who put the chip—er, crack—in it in the first place.)

  And Ziggy turned me down because he’s going to be busy babysitting this summer. So Sam wanted to invite his girlfriend, Willow Witch, to join our business. I guess she wants to earn money for a new cauldron or something.