Day 44 - Just Hanging Out - Hunter
Diary, I have a confession to make…
I missed all of Trapper’s big game! That’s not entirely true. I saw the last few seconds, where he shot the right square and won.
Listen, here’s what I don’t get: is this game just tic-tac-toe? I mean, sure it’s a little harder to shoot the right square, but once you get the hang of that…isn’t it just tic-tac-toe? Here’s the secret to the game, Diary, get the middle box. That’s it. Really, if you don’t do that, you limit your chances of winning real bad.
But I was hanging out at Stan’s shop, talking records. Stan is so smart. Did you know he knows the name of literally every record? I love records now. I found out the one I traded away to the old lady was called “blocks” Which is funny, because I found it in a block. It’s a great song, Diary—Stan said so!
Anyway, Stan told me all about this crazy rare record that he actually doesn’t have—the Creator has it. Whoever that is…. I don’t know, but I probably won’t ever find out! I’m a hunter, not a collector. I see little use in finding Music Discs.
I also got to meet Stan’s cat, Mika! What a nice kitty. I asked if she was an Ocelot and Stan repeatedly said, “Nope, just a cat,” but she had the same claws and prowl of an ocelot. Weird. Well, I know how mad Trapper gets when someone calls him a cat instead of an ocelot. I decided not to bring it up.
Stan’s cool clock struck mid-day and I realized I’d made a huge mistake. I was going to miss all of Trapper’s big first match!
“Oh no!” I called, “Can you give me back my diary, Stan!” I asked. I almost forgot you Diary, Good thing I didn’t.
“Of course, my friend,” he said smiling, “I have a business proposition for you. I’d like to tell you by the docks some time.”
“Uh, yeah sure buddy, I gotta go!” The docks? Huh… Weird.
I ran out through Ocelot Island. The formerly busy town square was totally empty. Nobody was around and selling stuff. It was a ghost town. Dusty wind whipped through the streets. They must all be at the big game! I kept running and finally made it to the stadium. As I got close, I heard the crowd screaming BOOO! They must be really mad at Trapper’s opponent!
I realized getting through the crowd would be a hassle so I used my patented Hunting Skills to hunt for a good way in. That’s right, Diary. You can hunt anything! I found a way up the stadium and climbed to the top. Remember one of my friendly tips, Always Carry Vines Wherever You Go, Whatever You Do.
I scurried on up and watched Trapper make his winning shot! The crowd erupted in anger. They started scratching at the stadium (no worries, it’s marble) and hitting each other. What a laugh! What a riot!
No really, the ocelots all started rioting just because Trapper won. I thought it was kind of an overreaction too, honestly. It seems like everyone always overreacts when it comes to sports.
Anyway, I swooped down, jumping on everyone’s heads and running on the big people sea like it was regular road. That’s what people don’t tell you about riots, Diary. You can walk on them.
I swooped up Trapper on my shoulders and hunted for a way to get out. There we go, I thought, as I saw a perfect opportunity for a tunnel. Digging a hole is a great way to get out of fights, Diary. I do it all the time. I hide in holes and I never confront my enemies if I don’t want to. Some people might say that’s cowardly, but why are you letting your enemies dictate whether or not you confront them? Then they win. Hide in holes! It gives you freedom!
I burrowed us out and got Trapper back to our home hole. He was bummed out.
“Everybody hates me,” he wrote on a sheet.
“Only because you’re so good!” I said, “Hey, I know what will cheer you up, let’s go to my friend’s record store!”
“That sounds fun,” Trapper wrote, “But I need a good night’s sleep before tomorrow’s big game.”
“Oh yeah buddy, I’ll be there tomorrow, just like I was today!” I said. “That’s right: me, always being there, on time.”
I felt pretty guilty, Diary. I decided to just hit the hay too. That way I could even walk Trapper to the big game. He’s gonna need it! Everybody on this island hates his guts!
Day 45 - Round 2 Skidoo - Trapper
Hi Diary, sigh.
It’s Trapper again. Being a professional athlete is really hard! And not very fun! Everyone’s yelling at me!
The next day, on my way to the stadium, I swear I got cat-called by every single person on Ocelot Island. It’s like they were just waiting for me to walk by. These locals want their Ocelots to win the games so bad they hate anybody who might get in the way. And I don’t mean to get in the way!
But I was born to play Tic-Tac-Toe Archery, I can feel it in my bones.
So I walked to that stadium with my chin held high. I knew I could beat whatever this island has to throw at me! So let’s do it! Hunter said he would walk me, but he ended up not sleeping at home last night… Huh. Must have made a friend or something…
Lame.
When I walked in the arena, the crowd threw a bunch of carrots at me. What’s up with that? I don’t care. I like carrots! Go ahead and throw them ya bunch of animals! I don’t mean that as an insult of course, as most of the crowd was actual animals.
Anyway, the games started and today Tic-Tac-Toe Archery was up first. I was the up-and-comer so I had to compete before anybody else. Even I didn’t know who my opponent was gonna be…
Then, some drumming started. Everyone was stomping against their chairs. A new ocelot came into the arena, and he was looking angry.
It’s Jeb Cat Scratch!” said the announcer.
The other announcer explained, “Jeb Cat-Scratch is known for making games into a no-win situation. He wears down his opponent’s concentration and upper body strength, and then he strikes and wins a game easy!”
He smiled at me and said, “You go first, noob. You’ll need it.” Nobody calls me a noob!
“No!” snarled, “You go first!”
“My pleasure,” he replied, shooting off an arrow in the distance at no square in particular. He hit the middle right square. What’s wrong with this doofus. I took my shot and got the middle center square with ease.
Then, he took his shot, hitting the upper-middle square right above my mark. What a dink! He can’t win a game with that. I took my second shot and hit the bottom left corner square. I was going for a diagonal win as we call it in the pros. He hit the upper right corner for the block (good move) and then I struck the lower right corner for a block and setting up diagonal. He blocked that too! He’s good. By this time I realized nobody can win. It’s a…
Cat’s Scratch!
I don’t have to tell you diary, but the next 10 games went exactly the same. Different moves, but Jeb always played with reckless disregard for winning. But I held my own. What Jeb doesn’t know is that I come from combat archery—not shooting on the fields at targets. I can shoot all day. He thinks he’s gonna tire me out? Gimme a break!
It’s game 11 and Jeb goes first. He misses. Yep! Misses! I now have an extra mark to his! I take the middle. He aims again, miss. Ha! What a dork. He’s really tired, Jeb. His own strategy worked against him. Guess he never met an opponent who could take him down! Here’s his third shot and—he blocked me! Oh! He’s conserving his strength. Well good, I thought, I got him on the ropes.
So it comes down to game number 23. I’m still not tired. But now Jeb is really tired. He’s blocking my shots and playing dirty, but even he is getting sloppy. He just missed a big block. I have only one shot to make it and I beat him for tomorrow’s final round.
Everything got real slow… It was like the world collapsed around me, all I could see was the target and my arrow. I took the shot…
It hit!
I won! The crowd went wild! I guess because I ended this really boring match. Sheesh, this Jeb guy’s a bummer.
I looked in the crowd and I saw Hunter there with his new friend and… That cat, Mika
from before! Strange! I walked over to them and asked what was up.
“Did you see my spectacular win against all odds?” I asked Mika. The humans probably thought we were just purring to each other.
“I did,” she said, “It was so impressive. Really. Great stuff… Here, I got you a special fish,” she said. I looked at it. Smelled real muggy and wet, just like yummy fish. I popped that in my mouth and ate it.
Ya know, Diary, sometimes being a professional athlete really is the life. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go vomit because that fish I ate a few hours ago was really messed up and I just realized that’s the reason I’m so sick…
Why oh why did I eat that strange, warm fish! Hunter said he’s going to the docks to go “take care of some business.” Wonder what that means… Oh boy, I wish I didn’t have to compete tomorrow.
Night 45 - The Big Bet - Hunter
Record-Man Stan met me out by the docks, late at night. The torches were ablaze, so I wasn’t afraid of any mobs spawning and taking him out, but then again, it’s always a little eerier at night.
“Glad you came,” Record-Man Stan said, holding a torch. “Come follow me.” I nodded. Record-Man Stan jumped off the dock into the water, careful to hold the torch above the surface. I didn’t really want to get wet, but whatever Stan was such a cool guy. WE kept swimming, and finally Stan got to the end of the dock. Underneath was a rock with a crack in it. Stan motioned to follow him, extinguishing the torch as he dove underwater.
I swam through the tiny cavern and felt an acute sense of danger. That’s strange. I wasn’t afraid of Record-Man Stan—maybe it was just tight, underwater caverns I’m afraid of. We finally made it to the end.
“Come on over here,” Stan said, leading the way to a huge hall, brightly lit by glowstone. There were monuments to different heroes Hunter had never heard of before. Zork, the Brave Baby Zombie Chicken Jockey Who Saved the Seed, read one inscription on a statue of a tiny baby zombie riding a little chicken. The statue was probably five times the size of the actual baby zombie.
“Keep up, Hunter!” Stan yelled. I rushed down the hallway. After a mild walk, I realized Stan was leading me to the massive treasure chamber. There were probably 100 double chests—and a lot of them were attached to hoppers so they could have more and more stuff dumped off inside them.
“This place is amazing!” I said.
“You didn’t even see the best parts. Here, take a look at this chest, my friend,” Record-Man Stan motioned to me. It was a huge chest, two to be particular. He cracked open the double-chest and I saw a surprising sight inside—Diamonds!
And whole bunch of them. 27 stacks of 64 to be exact: that’s 1,728 diamonds! How in the world did Record-Man Stan get this many precious stones?
“Where’d you get all these?” I asked, the glimmering glow of the blue-white diamond rocks reflecting on my face.
“The mines, of course,” Record-Man Stan said, “Either that, or I traded for them.”
“It’s incredible! I’ve never seen this many diamonds before. It’s…just crazy! Why don’t you make a whole suit of diamond armor with a diamond sword for one hand and a diamond pick in the other, then maybe a diamond shovel on your back—you’d still have a bunch of diamonds left over! You could be…Diamond Man! The superhero who fights for truth, justice, and the unbreakable hardness of diamond!” I said.
Record-Man Stan smiled: “What if I told you…you could be the Diamond Man.”
“Wha?!” I gasped. I imagined himself, at that moment, covered in the shimmering blue diamond armor. How cool would it be, running around, practically invincible, getting a great workout because your armor is so heavy and probably weighs well over 200 pounds…
“Come back to reality for a second, Hunter—“ Stan said, “I want to make a bet.”
My ears perked up. I’m a hunter; not a gambler. Hunting is all about skill; gambling is all about chance. Something just didn’t sit well with me about this. But then again, all those sweet, sweet diamonds were just wasting away sitting in that chest…
“What’s the bet?” I asked.
“I bet you all these diamonds that Trapper will lose the Archery Tic-Tac-Toe Tournament tomorrow,” Stan said dramatically.
“Ha! I wish I could take that bet! Trapper is the best tic-tac-toe archer there is! But I don’t have the diamonds to cover it…” I said sadly. Of course, I would love a bunch of diamonds. Who wouldn’t!
“No need to match my bet, friend,” said Stan, “Instead, I will take your word. All I ask is that you make me a promise…”
The dangerous feeling I felt in the cove-tunnel returned. Why did I keep getting this feeling hanging out with my cool bud, Record-Man Stan… Strange. “I’m listening…” I finally replied.
“Just sign this parchment here,” Stan said, taking out a piece of paper, “And you can make the bet. The paper says you promise to find the Illusive Last Remaining Record in the World if Trapper loses—which he won’t, you and I both know—and if Trapper wins, you get the diamonds. Really, this is a no brainer for you, because you’ll end up with so many diamonds. I’m just trying to get rid of the diamonds, honest to goodness…”
“Then can I just have them?” I asked.
“Nope. It’s a…uh…a tax thing. Yeah! You have to get them fair and square, in a bet, if you want to win them,” Record-Man Stan said.
“Seems reasonable,” I replied, realizing he never really got the hang of tax law.
“Just sign! Go ahead! Sign!” said Record-Man, a strange shadow developed over his face. He handed me a feather, dipped in ink.
“Sure…” I said, feeling that sinking, danger feeling all over again. What gives! Oh well, might just be a fluke.
“Perfect!” Record-Man Stan said, folding the sheet and putting it in his pocket. “Here, why not take my special elevator to get out?” he asked, flipping a redstone switch.
“Why didn’t we just take it in?” I asked confused.
“Wouldn’t be as fun!” Record-Man Stan said.
I wondered exactly what that contract said now that I started thinking about it. Probably nothing! Anyway, there’s nothing to worry about. Trapper is the best tic-tac-toe archer in the whole entire seed.
Now all I had to do was sit back and wait to rake in the diamonds…
Day 47 - Lovable Losers - Trapper
Diary, I’m really sick. Also, I think that map making man was right, Hunter did betray me! But he didn’t mean to…he’s just kinda, uh…
I think Hunter is addicted to the sparkle of shiny things, Diary. It’s a big problem.
Anyway, here’s what happened today…
I get to the stadium and the crowd is finally on my side for once. But I was so sick, I couldn’t even hold up my bow. I thought I was going to pass out right on the grounds. I tried aiming at the tic-tac-toe board for practice and…
Well then my opponent came out. It was none other than Mika! The cat owned by Hunter’s friend Stan—who, believe it or not turned out to be an evil mastermind, at least I think…
Anyway I’m getting ahead of myself. So Mika, the cat that gave me the bad fish, was also my opponent. Seems like poison to me. I tried to tell the officials but—they don’t speak Ocelotish! I was done for.
I went up and took my beating. I missed every shot I took. Mika wiped the board clean with me, three in a row, all right down the middle.
I lost worse than any ocelot has ever lost in the Olympics. I was humiliated. People threw more carrots at me, but this time I didn’t like it. I wasn’t the heel, I was a big loser.
But you think that’s bad, wait until you hear what happened to Hunter! He’s gone! I don’t know where he is, but I saw that terrible Record-Man Stan holding him with a big piece of paper and laughing maniacally. Do you believe it?! It’s insane! I can’t believe he’d do such a thing. I thought the two were friends! Some friend, Stan.
I watched as he was pulled off the sidelines by this fiend. Now, where is he? I a
m a disgraced public athlete hated throughout my kind on the Ocelot Island. And the only thing to do next is…
I’m going to get my revenge on this terrible Record-Man Stan! I’m also going to vow, I will never leave Hunter all on his own ever again. That guy is just a magnet for trouble. I guess if we ever get the chance to take another vacation, I’m going to have to keep him occupied!
Well, I guess I gotta go save Hunter!