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The Master Hunter and His Witty Ocelot, Book 4: Ocelot Olympics

 

The Master Hunter and His Witty Ocelot, Book 4: Ocelot Olympics

 

 

Copyright 2017 Mark Mulle

Published by Mark Mulle at Shakespir

 

 

 

 

Shakespir Edition License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Shakespir.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

 

 

Author’s Note

This short story is for your reading pleasure. The characters in this “Minecraft Adventure Series” such as Steve, Endermen or Herobrine…etc are based on the Minecraft Game coming from Minecraft ®/TM & © 2009-2013 Mojang / Notch

 

 

 

 

 

 

Table of Contents

 

 

Day 40 – Vacation’s All I Ever Wanted – Hunter

Day 41 – Boat Buddies – Trapper

Day 42 – Ocelot…Olympics? – Hunter

Day 43 – Trapper’s Hidden Skill

Day 43 – Hunter the Tourist

Day 43 – Record Man Stan

Day 44 – Round 1 Fun – Trapper

Day 44 – Just Hanging Out – Hunter

Day 45 – Round 2 Skidoo – Trapper

Night 45 – The Big Bet – Hunter

Day 47 – Lovable Losers – Trapper

About the Author

Other books by this Author

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 40 – Vacation’s All I Ever Wanted – Hunter

Diary, it’s great to be writing in you again from the comfort of my own home! Boy, did those last adventures really wear me out! I’ve been sleeping for days, just hanging out close to the house, eating cookies and baked potatoes and playing with Trapper, my pet Ocelot. Then we decided to do something pretty dramatic!

Why was I so tired and stressed? I’m still processing all my emotions, honestly. But I think it was because…

We fought an army of zombies fixing up that zombified village with the magical purifying water, but then I got mad at Trapper for reading my diary. Then, he went on a massive journey to find me, and he did. I was hiding in the jungle. We had a tearful reunion and now I understand Trapper’s my best friend in the whole entire world.

So of course, a bunch of creepy Pigmen came out of a portal and snatched up my writing and reading jungle-cat buddy, then imprisoned him in a Nether fortress! So a witch, a skeleton spider jockey and I all saved Trapper from the fortress—but the evil Dr. Pigman got away on a flying pirate ship. Well, we commandeered the pirate ship and fought Pigman in the End and the Nether and all over the seed, really!

But you know all this, you’re my diary! You’re the record keeper of all so if you forgot what happened, just look at your old pages. How do you do that, Diary? Do you try and feel the marks on what your used pages say. I’m not even a quarter of the way done filling these things up and I’m pretty sure my journey as the ultimate hunter is just beginning.

My point is, I am just wiped. And it’s not just me. Trapper was so sluggish and sad lately. I think he was having a hard time dealing with all the stress of adventure.

“Hey buddy,” I said, “Let’s cheer up your spirits! Let’s go hunting!”

Having experienced life as a Zombie hunter, a Demon hunter and a Pirate hunter, I can wholeheartedly say that being a hunter is the life for me. I knew it. My mind was long ago made up, you’re not gonna see much change there.

“Nah,” Trapper scrawled on a note, “I’m not in the mood. I just wanna…chill out. Relax. Have fun.”

I thought about what my friend said. I like keeping this diary because it really helped me grow as a friend. I reflect on what people say, what I say back to them, how I treat people and how I could treat them even nicer next time I see them. If I could recommend one small thing to everyone it would be, “Everyone should keep a diary.”

Take Trapper for example—he keeps taking my diary! I got mad about it at first, but now I think it’s funny. Plus, it’s cool to see what my genius cat companion actually thinks about things. You know, Diary, he’s actually a very observant jungle-cat.

“I hate this place,” Trapper wrote. Interesting, I thought. I looked around at our barren arctic shack. There was nothing on the walls or floor. I had a chest, a bed and you, Diary. That’s it.

 

“I’m sick of the arctic,” Trapper wrote down again, underlining every word. I was picking up what he meant. He thought we should…uh…not be in the arctic, probably.

“Really?” I said, “Do you not like our simple square house?” I looked around, it was just wood. I hate this house too, huh. I was struggling to convince Trapper we should keep living in this house. I love traveling! “Ya know what, you’re right buddy! I’m sick of the arctic too!”

“Let’s leave this house now,” Trapper scrawled, clutching the pen between his paws. Just a writing machine, this jungle cat! How can he do it!? Oh yeah, leave the house now right at this moment was a wild suggestion.

Diary. I love wild suggestions. Which, as you’ll see, that’s often what gets me in a lot of trouble…

We walked outside and didn’t even think about it. I grabbed you, Diary, took the chest with me, broke down the bed, and then leave everything behind.

“So where do we go now, my buddy, my pal!” I shouted. “How about the opposite of the cold? How about the Nether!”

Trapper’s little paws were scrawling across the page; he wrote faster than he ever did before. “I hate the Nether! It’s scary there!”

“Not with your best pal Hunter though, right?” I said, confused at the reaction.

“I GOT KIDNAPPED AND TORTURED HERE!” Trapper wrote. He had a point.

“Ok ok! No need to use all caps,” I said. Trapper can’t talk (he’s an ocelot) so he can’t really yell, but writing in all capital letters is practically the same thing. “Let’s go somewhere warm though, right?” I asked, already shivering. I should have brought my coat with me.

“I’ve got an idea,” Trapper wrote, “Why don’t we go to my homeland?”

“The jungle?” I said, remembering the time I found little Trapper hanging out in the rainforest trees.

“No,” Trapper wrote, and smirked, “The homeland of all ocelots—Ocelot Island!”

“Never heard of it,” I said.

“Do you think you’re going to have heard of every island in existence? The seed is infinite, you know!” Trapper wrote, scratching the ink into the paper with his claws. I hope I didn’t offend him. Trapper always gets really weird when the subject of other ocelots gets brought up.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” I said, “Let’s do it! Let’s go! We’ll make our way toward Ocelot Island!” I was excited. My best bud, a jungle-cat ocelot who can read and write, and I were about to go on a tropical island vacation! Fun! Sun! Swimming! Fruit! I love fruit. Oh man, nothing better than tropical island fruit.

“So how do we get there?” I asked.

Trapper smiled, and scampered off in front of me. He cocked his head back and motioned to me in a way that signaled, “Come on! I’ll show you the way!”

As we ran, I could already smell the fresh ocean air. Once the sun went down, we slept in a cave and I could hardly fall asleep as I tossed and turned and yearned for my big vacation!

 

Day 41 – Boat Buddies – Trapper

Well hello again, Hunter’s Diary, it’s me, the jungle cat who can write, read, jump, fight, and do practically anything in the world.

That’s right baby, it’s Trapper the Ocelot.

Hunter and I woke up this morning and found the weirdest boat operator I’ve ever met. We’re relaxing below deck on the boat now, but boy did we have a wild day. Let me tell you all about it…

So, we wake up and make our way straight for the Cliff Harbor. These are a rather famous set of docks on this seed. There’s enough room for ten big ships, and all kinds of people pass through here. That’s why the village right next to it is hardly a village and better described as a city! It’s huge. We saw the blue, rolling ocean crash against these giant ships, sitting anchored next to the wooden dock walkways.

What do you think they’re for?” Hunter asked. I love him, but this dude is always asking obvious questions. I think they’re boats for sailing, Hunter. I shrugged my cat body and kept walking along. There were pirates, fisherman, sailors and passengers all roaming around the docks. Most of the boats were huge, with white cotton sails all blocked up and unfurled so the ships could travel swiftly across the water.

Pretty busy out here!” Hunter said. Duh. We kept walking. Finally, at the end of the dock, in the tenth port, was a tiny ship. Really, this ship was hardly bigger than a row boat—and it used rows to power itself too! What was this thing?

That looks like a good one!” Hunter said about the boat that most obviously didn’t look like a good one. Oh Hunter, how do you know so little about boats when we just sailed across the seed in a flying one stolen from a Pigman?

Good afternoon!” said a villager wearing a purple smock. He seemed very eager that someone was paying attention to his boat.

Why hello,” Hunter said, “I am the most wonderful Hunter on the entire seed and thus my name is Hunter, the Magnificent. But you can just call me Hunter. And this here is my trusty companion, Trapper, who is, as you can see, an ocelot,” he droned on and on. You know, I’m sometimes really glad I can’t talk, because it seems like creatures who can do it way too much.

That’s a cat,” the villager replied.

I growled back and snapped my jaws at the rude little man.

Whoops! Nope, that’s an ocelot! I stand corrected!” he said, cowering away as he turned around in a twirl and introduced himself, “Cartographer Mort, at your service good fellows!” said the villager. He did a little dance and ended it with a backflip.

Hunter clapped. I didn’t. “You run this boat all yourself?” Hunter asked. Sure he does, it’s a hunk of water-worn wood covered in slime and barnacles. It’s probably the worst ship I’ve ever seen—and I used to subscribe to a magazine that was all about ships! Well, to be fair, it really only talked about really nice ships. But still!

 

That I do!” said the charmingly bubbly villager. He bopped around and acted like he was glad to be holed up on this dinky boat, who knows why? It’s a tiny little thing, that’s for sure. And nobody in their right mind would want to be stuck on it if they could help it.

I get to devote myself to my life’s pursuit: cartography, the art of following maps…” Mort said. That just about did it for Hunter. There are few things that Hunter likes more than a man with a philosophy.

Tell me more!” Hunter said, pulling up the ship’s only chair.

Ha! Good man!” said the cartographer, pulling out a whole stack of maps. “Get a load of these, my good boy. As you see, they’re parchment that reveals a special location of different types of treasure or landmasses!”

Fascinating!” Hunter squeaked, like he’d never seen a map before. This was getting embarrassing. I picked you up, Diary, and wrote out a note because I needed this to end—quick!

Take us to Ocelot Island,” I wrote, “And you can tell Hunter about maps the whole way. He’ll listen. He loves bori—“ I started to write boring but crossed it out, “uh…interesting stuff like maps!”

Mort the Cartographer looked at me and started to get really scared for some reason. “Did that Ocelot just write me a personalized letter?!” he bellowed.

Yeah,” Hunter replied, “He can read and write. It’s one of the many things that makes him cool.” He smiled and scratched behind my ears. He sure knew how to butter a jungle cat up.

This…this cannot be…” said Mort, pacing around, smacking himself in the head with rolled up maps. What gives with this guy?

The map making monastery told me this would happen one day! I would meet the magical Ocelot who was as brilliant as man and as cunning as beast…”

What’s wrong?” Hunter asked, pulling out a baked potato and eating it like an apple. This dude loved baked potatoes. Too much starch for my taste. I decided I’d just hear what was going on in the background while I prowled over to the edge of the dinky boat to dip my claws in the water and catch myself a raw fish lunch.

We must go!” said Mort the Cartographer, “at once!” He ran over to the sails of the ship and popped them out. They were just as broken and bad as the weathered boat. The sails had big holes in them and no doubt would make for a bad energy source when it comes to deep sea travel.

Then, he started paddling as fast as he could. The boat heaved forward and moved with a jerky start. I didn’t expect that! The little schooner had some speed!

So as I was fishing, I fell into the water! The boat came to a crashing halt and Mort the Cartographer jumped off the side to rescue me. I don’t like to swim, Diary, that’s true. But I can do it if I have to. I was fine. Mort, on the other hand, was horrified.

Oh the scared Ocelot!” said the map-maker, “I am so sorry my lord, please forgive my impunity!”

What was this dude talking about? I was nobody’s lord. Man, this was starting to freak me out. He brought me back aboard the deck of the ship and started trying to give me mouth to mouth. Blech! I bit at him with my jungle-cat fangs. Get out of here, you weird old map man!

I’m so sorry, my lord!” said Mort. “Please, keep your arms, legs, and claws inside the boundaries of the vehicle at all times!”

 

We kept sailing and for some reason, old Mort didn’t want to talk to Hunter about maps anymore. Hunter, of course, just lectured him about the lifestyle of hunting and how important it is to Respect the Ways of the Hunt as Hunter literally always says.

I stretched out and got in some day time napping. Then, Hunter and I went below deck to sleep, but Mort said he promises to sail through the night to get us to the island even faster. Weird…

I snuck up to the top of the deck just before writing this diary entry, Dairy. I wanted to try and eavesdrop on Mort the Cartographer. I found him, whispering to a map.

The Ocelot doesn’t yet know how important he really is,” he said. “And he doesn’t yet know that the Hunter…will betray him!”

Spooky, right? I wonder what the heck it could mean! Well, the boat is docking Diary. Here’s Ocelot Island! Not gonna let any creepy map-man bring me down!

 

Day 42 – Ocelot…Olympics? – Hunter

Oh hello, Diary!

What a wonderful day I had here on the island. I’m an islander now. I love island living. That’s right, Diary, I’m very cultured and I know all about the island—and it only took one day. I’m actually the number one person here on the island…

Oh, I wish that was true! You saw right through me, Diary.

I’m in love with Ocelot Island though, that’s for sure. It’s crazy, but I’ve hardly even thought about hunting since we’ve docked. It’s like, I am just living the free life! Trapper on the other hand, he got himself into some crazy shenanigans!

Let me start at the beginning: so we dock on Ocelot Island. It’s such a charming and unique place. There are some people out here, but most of the living things are Ocelots! They’re just walking around, wandering, shopping, fishing in the river, climbing trees, having fun, and living life! Island life!

The Ocelots aren’t bothered by tourists. In fact, they love them. And we caught them on their biggest celebration of the entire year—the Ocelot Olympics!

I know, I couldn’t believe it either. But every 4 years, Ocelots from all over the seed get together here, at the island, and compete in games of skill—and chance! Well, the gamblers that is… There were stalls full of people who were just sitting around and making bets. They looked shady, partly because gambling is sometimes just a way to steal people’s money—but also because they were standing in the shade and it was hard to see their faces. Not a coincidence I’m sure! These guys were really creepin’ me out so we walked away.

There were plenty of other things to look at. The whole Ocelot Island is built in a cool, jungle wood style. But since the Olympics are going on, there’s way more decorative flags, glowstone, a huge glass statue of an Ocelot made out of colored glass. It looks great! There’s even a big red carpet going right through the middle of town, so visitors can easily find the big Ocelot Colosseum.

I watched as Ocelots trotted up and down the huge, white stone building. The stadium was perfect for sporting events and competitions. So many Ocelots of all color patterns and ages were having a blast out in the middle of town square. I’ve never seen this many before! It looks like today is the big game’s opening ceremony.

Trapper started acting really weird when he found out that the Ocelot Olympics were taking place. He’s acting like he wants to compete…Weird, I know, Diary. What could Trapper do? What are the games they even play in the Ocelot Olympics? Wild!

We kept walking around but Trapper is being kind of weird around me. Like he’s afraid I’ll embarrass him in front of his jungle cat friends…ugh, even writing that makes me realize that’s probably not the truth. He’s probably just nervous around all these cool cats.

 

A very official looking ocelot was standing next to a table. He pressed a button on a recording device and these words echoed into the air, “All ocelots looking to compete in the Olympics, please sign up here!” The message repeated.

“What a weird little speaker…” I said aloud to Trapper but—he was gone! He trotted over to the line, ready to sign up. I followed him.

“Trapper! I didn’t know you were good at a sport!” I said, impressed. “You’re gonna do great buddy,” I told him. “I’ll be up in the bleachers cheering you on!”

Trapper smiled a jungle-cat smile. I was proud of him.

We got to the front of the line and the official ocelot pushed some paperwork in Trapper’s direction. He signed it and finished it in a jiffy. It seemed like a lot of ocelots can read and write, by the look of it. None can talk though. It must be the throats…

After we finished, I asked, “What games did you sign up for, buddy?”

Trapper scurried up my leg, to my pack and took out my bow. He flipped around and shot off an arrow, ever so precisely that it landed right in the wall of a shop on the Ocelot Island strip. The shop owner came out and started shaking his little paws at us, but Trapper calmed him down with a hunk of bread.

The Olympics opening ceremonies were beginning. We heard a bunch of bells ringing out though the whole island. I bet every single ocelot who lived there was at these opening ceremonies! It was wild. We piled into the stadium and watched as the fun started.

First, fireworks! So many! Blazing twinkles of glory burst forth into the air. They were cracking, hissing, popping, exploding and blazing above the island, giving a pleasant neon glow to the tropical paradise. The stadium was silent except for the fireworks display, the reflective marble shimmered back the lights in a pleasant afterglow.

Then came the dance routine. About one hundred ocelots poured into the stadium and did a choreographed march complete with flips, flops, and wiggles. Yes, all the dancing was present this day, Diary. I’ll be honest; I’m not much of a dancer. But seeing those ocelots out there, dancing to hundreds of jukeboxes all playing the same record… It was something else.

Maybe I’ll try dancing again one day! Who knows!

Now for the big event, the most important part, lighting the big Ocelot Torch. A few donkeys were tasked with pulling out the massive wheeled cart with a huge fire atop it. Each of the dancing ocelots brought up a torch and threw it in the fire. The blaze was massive! It shook the stadium and everyone in the crowd could feel its blaze. The fire was so intense it reminded me of Nether lava!

Finally, the mayor of Ocelot Island, Mayor Bob-O Ocelot, came out wearing a sash that said his name. Bob-O. What a beautiful name… Bob-O…

Anyway, Mayor Bob-O gave his big speech—by pressing a button and starting a speaker. “Hello everyone, thanks for coming to the Olympics. It’s going to be great. Please leave now and come back tomorrow. This speech will repeat in 3, 2, 1,…Hello everyone, thanks…”

Everyone stampeded out of the stadium. “That’s weird,” I said to Trapper. “Why’s everyone rushing out like this?”

Then, we figured it out. A bunch of Ocelots in capes flew over the stadium and started dropping as many buckets of water as you can imagine. The water just splashed down in a huge wave. We got totally soaked and the fire was extinguished with ease.

 

“That’s why, huh…” I said. We went and it turned out every single inn was booked up full. So I told Trapper we can just dig a whole and sleep in that like we usually do. I love hole homes. OK Diary, I’ll report back tomorrow after I explore the town!

 

Day 43 – Trapper’s Hidden Skill

Diary, it’s Trapper again. I think I finally found my purpose in life:

Tic-Tac-Toe-Archery.

I know what you’re thinking—well, I always know what you’re thinking, which is nothing, you’re just a diary with blank pages in ya. But anyway, I bet you’ve never heard of Tic-Tac-Toe-Archery, and it probably just sounds silly. Made up even.

Well, it’s not made up and in fact it’s one of the fastest growing, most competitive sports on the seed.

Let me explain. I found the Ocelot Olympics game masters and asked what was being exhibited. You see, Ocelots can talk—to one another. It’s easy. We understand our noises. Humans don’t, but that’s because they never tried, I reckon.

Anyway, here’s what the games are:

Ocelot Races

Ocelot Football

Ocelot Weightlifting

Ocelot Archery (most popular)

Ocelot Tic-Tac-Toe Archery (new)

At first, I signed up for archery, having no idea what this new tic-tac-toe archery was. I woke up the day after the big introductory ceremony and went down to the stadium for the preliminary trials. When I left, Hunter was still sleeping. I let him. Heck, we’re technically on vacation, even though I’m becoming a star athlete and all…

Anyway, it was right at dawn and all the other ocelots were already waiting at the stadium. Some dudes were cool, giving me little ocelot high fives and other cool ocelot greetings. Other dudes were jerks, just sitting there mean-mugging me and making me feel like I was unwanted. Well guess what, bub, I don’t care! I’ll beat ya—in the ring!

I know I’m a great archer. Very few ocelots can master the complicated paw work, the use of the mouth, and the tail stabilization it takes to shoot an arrow fast and true. There were about 20 ocelots who are good enough archers. We shot some targets to see who should compete against who. We went up to the dirt line and shot three arrows on the board.

I shot two bullseyes (one of my arrows split a second) and then another shot for 20 points. Not bad at all. In fact, the second best shots you can get.

Then, a spotted ocelot with a scar on his face stepped up to the line.

That’s Barclay!” one of the ocelots whispered. “He’s the greatest archer alive!” said another. He was quite the cragged ocelot, he looked battle worn. He was wearing chainmail too—which is nuts, I didn’t even know ocelots could wear that stuff!

He stood up to the line, pulled back his bow, and shot all three arrows at the same time! Every single one was a bullseye! The first hit the target, then the second split that, then the third split that! It was nuts!

 

Wow!” I said in Ocelotish (that’s what our language is called). “You’re impressive!” I walked over to Barclay and tried talking to him.

You’re an amateur,” he said, but before I could get offended he finished his thought, “You are good, but not as good as I am—so I think you should try the new event, Archery Tic Tac Toe.”

What in the world is that?!” I asked. I didn’t know if this guy was trying to make me feel bad or help me… It was confusing!

Similar to archery, it uses a bow and arrow,” he said, “But it is added to the ancient human game, Tic-Tac-Toe a game of great strategy and skill.” He scurried over to a redstone switch and pulled it. A huge game board came out of the ground that looked like an ampersand (#)

Nine squares,” Barclay said, “Once you shoot your arrow and hit a square, that square is out of bounds! It is now claimed by the first person to shoot it! Your goal is simple: hit three squares in a row—either horizontal, vertical or diagonal!”

I know how to play Tic-Tac-Toe, dude,” I said.

Oh you do?!” Barclay said, shocked.

Of course, I live with a human. We play it all the time,” I said.

Now you will try it with archery!” Barclay screamed, “Ready the board!” The board lit up with glow-stone. These ocelots are great at redstone programming.

You go first,” Barclay said in a menacing tone. He must be thinking he was putting me in a bad position. What a dork!

I shot off my first arrow right into the middle panel. Now, I had a good position on practically every way to win on the board!

Heh,” Barclay said, shooting his arrow and picking the upper right corner. “Your move.”

I shot the lower right corner. Barclay shot the upper middle square. I shot the upper left corner and—I won!

Wait a second!” Barclay cried. “You cheated! I’m the best archer around!”

Yeah but clearly you aren’t any good at tic-tac-toe,” I replied.

Hey! Don’t say that! You’re hurting my feelings! I don’t want to be in the Olympics anymore! Not with this guy! No way!” he started crying. Jeez, what a sore loser!

Just do the regular archery and I’ll do the tic-tac-toe variant, ok?” I asked.

Yeah,” he said, “That’s exactly what we’ll do! No doubt about it!” he stormed off.

Another black ocelot walked up smirking. “I see you met Barclay,” she purred. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just a whiny baby,” she laughed. “I’m Mika by the way.”

Trapper,” I said, wondering if this ocelot was a good guy or not. Well, it was definitely no guy. It was a girl, that’s for sure.

I’ll be seeing you around,” Mika said as she stalked away. What a weird day. Ocelots can get really competitive it seems.

Well, at least I found my one true calling in life. I am a Tic-Tac-Toe Archer. There’s nothing changing that. It takes all the skill of archery, all the brains of tic-tac-toe. It’s a wonderful game and some have said I am the best ocelot to ever play it. I can’t wait to get the gold medal in it so I can be rich or…whatever you get for that kinda thing.

 

Day 43 – Hunter the Tourist

Ocelot Island is a BLAST, Diary!

It’s Hunter here, and I’ve had a crazy day going all over the island and checking out the cool stuff. There are so many things. All the things humans have, plus extra things for Ocelots.

Like, there’s a scratching store. Humans don’t have that! It’s a place where all the jungle cats meet and scratch up the walls, floor, ceiling—you name it, you can scratch it. I didn’t go in, I just watched from outside the window but the ocelots in there seemed to be having a blast.

There’s also an Ocelot Dojo where ocelots learn how to be better martial arts warriors. Now that makes sense to me. There are human dojos too. Dojos are good: plain little wood buildings that house unbeatable warrior ninjas!

I kept walking down the paved cobblestone streets and saw ocelots selling fish and fruit from carts. All the little baby ocelots seemed happy to be scarfing down apples and fish. Everyone was so happy.

The ocelot houses were not anything like you’d expect. They made them right within trees. They hollowed out these beautiful jungle wood trees here on the island and lived in such cool structures. I was jealous since Trapper and I had to sleep underground like moles or something.

With so much to do in Ocelot Island, I wondered if I’d ever find a place to just relax and chill out. I was almost too overwhelmed with all the fun! So I picked the next door on the left, which happened to be a metal door, and it happened to turn out to be the most important store I’d ever go in my entire life.

“Welcome,” I heard on a loud speaker, “To the Ultimate Record Store.”

“Huh?” I said.

A conveyer belt underneath my feet started pulling me down a massive hallway. On the walls were more paintings than I’d ever seen. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was literally every single type of painting in existence.

There were weapons framed on the wall and suits of wonderful, enchanted armor marked every corner. “What is this place,” I asked aloud…

“Why this?!” said a strange and flamboyant voice, “This is the domain of Record-Man Stan! The man to set the record for owning all the stuff!”

“What?!” I asked, stumbling back as this weird creepy guy made his way out of the shadows. “Where’d you come from?”
“I live here,” he said, “And let me tell you a thing or two about Collecting. See, I am a Master Collector and I have all the stuff there ever was. I got it all, kid. Don’t you forget it. And no you can’t have any of it! That would break up my collection—don’t even ask!”

“I understand what it’s like to be a Master,” I said, “I’m a Master Hunter myself,” I bragged while I brushed off my leather armor.

“Sure, I can tell, you carry yourself with the air of a master. A Master’s Air,” he said. I was flattered. This guy was so cool, he had so much good stuff, but he was willing to believe I’m a master- Which I am. Don’t try and say I’m a master in training, Diary, because I believe myself to be a master and that is almost all that matters! It’s the thought that counts!

“What do you do here?” I asked.

“Pretty much everything,” he said, “Mostly, I sell records to people who want to buy them.”

“You mean, Music Discs?” I said. I’d found one once in my travels. Never had a jukebox though, so I just traded it away from a nice pair of boots. Seemed like I was ripping the fella off but he seemed glad to do it.

“Music Discs, or Records as the real lovers of the discs call them, are some of the most exquisite items on the seed. That’s how I got my name, you know. Collecting all the records. Which is why people call me…”

“Record-Man Stan,” I said in awe. How did he collect that many rare items! He must be like a hunter! But…he considers himself a collector. He has a code, that differs than mine, and I really respect it. Nothing in the world more honorable than an honor code, Diary. It’s a really honor-based thing. I had to tell Stan—

“You’re the coolest guy I’ve ever met,” I told him. It was true. Record-Man Stan nodded, knowingly. Like people told him this all the time.

“This is weird, but will you do me a favor?” I asked. “Will you write your life story down in my diary? I want to study you and become like you…and never forget you.”

“Sure,” said Record Man Stan. “I can do that for a pal like you. Just meet me here tomorrow and I’ll give it back to you.”

“Awesome!” I said, “Let me just write today’s entry down,” which is what I’m currently doing. I’m sure there’s nothing too weird about asking a new pal to write his life’s story in your diary. Honestly, I thought Stan would freak out, but he’s being totally cool about it!

 

Day 43 – Record Man Stan

Why hello, Hunter, it’s me, your new friend…

RECORD-MAN STAN

I’m king of the records, that’s for sure. You wanted me to write my life story down so you could emulate it and become an amazing collector like me some day. I thought about it…but I don’t think so. I’m writing down what I wanna write and what I wanna write is this:

RECORD REVIEWS OF ALL THE RECORDS ON THIS SEED!

I have all the songs. Therefore, it’s time for you to know what I think about them…

#
p<>{color:#000;}. “Cat” – what beautiful music of bubbling discovery. When the easy going drums kick in with the beautiful synthesizer tones, I’m on cloud nine. This is the favorite song of Ocelot Island, by the way—you can probably guess why. 10/10

#
p<>{color:#000;}. “Blocks” – this slower, moody jam is fun to listen to when you’re building. It got evocative tones that really groove. I give it a 8/10

#
p<>{color:#000;}. “Chirp” – this repetitive tone might do it for some people, but it doesn’t do it for me. It did for my first love, who long ago abandoned me to go live off by herself in a castle. Even though I have the record, I don’t listen to it much. 2/10

#
p<>{color:#000;}. “Far” – quiet space music for listening to while you’re chilling out by yourself. A grand tune. 9/10

#
p<>{color:#000;}. “Mall” – this song used to play when I lived in a villager village and I hated that place. What a bad song. The piano tones are really pretty though. I hate it because it reminds me of the time I was kicked out of a village for being a huge creep. 3/10

#
p<>{color:#000;}. “Mellohi” – this song is very playful, silly, and plodding. It makes me feel sad in a weird way. I like it. What a great tune. 9/10

#
p<>{color:#000;}. “Stal” – this tune is boring. It’s not so bad when you know what to expect but man, it’s too slow for me. Enough of that silly saxophone too. 5/10

#
p<>{color:#000;}. “Strand” – this song is pleasant and sounds like steel drums. It has a plodding, interesting beat and it’s fun to hear at any time of day. 7/10

#
p<>{color:#000;}. “Ward” – this song makes me very scared. It reminds me of the time I was captured by skeletons who found me after I was kicked out of the village. The skeletons had me trapped for many days and it was after I conquered them that I decided to become a collector. As much as I hate the song, it does mean a lot to me because I stole the records from the skeletons when I escaped. 5/10

#
p<>{color:#000;}. “13” – ah, the haunting, uncomfortable sounds of 13. Lots of people might say this is their least favorite song of all the Music Discs—that is because they are not as cool and sophisticated as me. This song is actually good because it sounds so bad. 10/10

#
p<>{color:#000;}. “11” – the rare 11. Definitely the weirdest of all the songs. I think someone made it accidentally by leaving a tape recorder on. I still think it is great because it’s so weird and hard to like. That’s why I like it and most losers don’t. 8/10

And that’s that! All the Music Discs. Sorry Hunter, I don’t really diary much. I just want to tell the world how cool I am when it comes to music. Also, another fun fact about me, is that I will stop at nothing to get “Crisp” the last remaining record on the seed. There’s only one copy of it, and it’s far away and I don’t know how I’m going to get it. But I’ll find a way…

Maybe you can help me, Hunter.

Muwhahahaha!

I mean, hahah! Yeah! Help me! Like a friend. Not like a servant…but a friend. Yeah I’m gonna make you get that record for me, just you wait.

 

Day 44 – Round 1 Fun – Trapper

Diary, today was the first big day of the Ocelot Olympics.

Everyone in town came to the big match. I was sure Hunter was in the stands somewhere. He’s a good friend; he wouldn’t miss my first big Tic-Tac-Toe for the world.

The Olympics had two commentators, both Villagers, who sat at a little wooden table and called out the specifics of the game. They’d say stuff like “It’s that ocelot who’s winning!” or “What a dynamic play!” It’s necessary, I guess, since the stadium is so big and maybe people at the top can’t hear it. I always found these guys annoying.

First up was the Ocelot Races. Ten ocelots ran as fast as they could around the track and one emerged a victor. Glad I was not part of this competition. These little jungle cats ran so fast they looked like blurs of color. It seemed exhausting; I’m way too lazy for that.

Up next, Ocelot Weightlifting: ten really buff ocelots came out and started pumping iron. For such tiny cats, these ocelots really lifted a lot of weight. The winner of round one was swirling his dumbbell into the air and catching it like a baton. Good stuff.

Finally, it was my turn to compete, Ocelot Tic-Tac-Toe-Archery! Because nobody knew me personally, they ranked me last. So I had to win this round or I was out of the whole competition! The pressure was on.

For this game, opponents compete one on one. I took the field with my rival. It was a spotted Ocelot wearing light-weight, fitness clothes. Where’d he get those?

Archers take your marks,” said the commentators at the table on the side. “Each will take turns shooting. Decide amongst yourselves who will shoot the first shot.”

We looked at each other. Now Diary, I know that getting the first shot greatly improves your chance of winning—but I won’t lose even if I don’t get it, we might just tie. That’s the problem with tic-tac-toe, all the tying.

You go first,” said the sporty ocelot. I smiled. “Sure,” I replied, thinking, if you want to lose right away, I’d be happy to help.

I took aim and shot my first arrow—THWIP! It flew through the air. THAWP! It landed right in the middle square. Got it!

Trapper, the mainland challenger, has got quite the first hit with his arrow. He has the middle square and he’s poised to control the board,” said the commenters.

My opponent stepped up to the line. He aimed carefully and hit the upper-left corner. A good shot, it flew fast and true. I must hand it to him, he’s a good archer.

Wow! Bing the local hero made a nice first shot to the upper row of the board. He’s got corner. Let’s see where the game goes next,” the commenters blathered.

I shot again. This time, I hit the lower left-hand corner to stop my opponent and set myself up for a win on my next arrow.

My opponent rebuked my win by shooting the upper-right corner of the board. Now I had to hit the middle to stop him. I aimed and…got it.

 

Bing didn’t have much of a winning chance but he had to block my win if he was going to move on to the next round. He aimed and tried to hit the middle bottom square…

But as he got to the line he fumbled with his bow and…he missed! What an upset! He hit the lower-right corner square. Wow, what a mess.

The crowd was cheering. They wanted me to lose it all since I was an outsider. When I got up to the line, I heard a deafening chorus of boos. It felt like everyone in the stadium wanted me to lose.

Booooo!”

But I knew there was one person up there cheering for me. I knew Hunter was in the stands and he was cheering—not booing! He would be my path to victory, focusing on his cheers.I tried to hear them… But of course, I couldn’t. So I just imagined him cheering, because I knew he was up there somewhere.

The rope on my bow pulled back slowly. I aimed at the final victory shot. Here it goes, for all the glory—will I make it?! I’ll let my loyal pal Hunter tell you that one, Diary, because he was lucky enough to see the whole thing.

 

 

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 am 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!

 

 

 

 

 

 

About the Author

Mark Mulle is a passionate Minecraft gamer who writes game guides, short stories, and novels about the Minecraft universe. He has been exploring, building, and fighting in the game ever since its launch, and he often uses in-game experiences for inspiration on creating the best fiction for fellow fans of the game. He works as a professional writer and splits his time between gaming, reading, and storytelling, three hobbies and lifelong passions that he attributes to a love of roleplaying, a pursuit of challenging new perspectives, and a visceral enjoyment the vast worlds that imagination has to offer. His favorite thing to do, after a long day of creating worlds both on and off the online gaming community, is to relax with his dog, Herobrine, and to unwind with a good book. His favorite authors include Stephen King, Richard A. Knaak, George R. R. Martin, and R. A. Salvatore, whose fantasy works he grew up reading or is currently reading. Just like in Minecraft, Mark always strives to level up, so to speak, so that he can improve his skills and continue to surprise his audience. He prefers to play massive multiplayer online games but often spends time in those games fighting monsters one on one and going solo against the toughest mobs and bosses he can manage to topple. In every game, his signature character build is a male who focuses mostly on crafting weapons and enchanting, and in every battle, he always brings a one hander sword and a shield with as much magical attributes as he can pour into them. Because he always plays alone, he likes to use his game guides to share all the secrets and knowledge he gains, and who know—he may have snuck some information into his fiction as well. Keep an eye out for his next book!

 

 

Other books by this author

Please visit your favorite eBook retailer to discover other books by Mark Mulle

 

Diary of a Brave Iron Golem

Book 1: The Village Protector

Book 2: Attacked by the Wither

 

Diary of Jake and His Zombie Pigman

Book 1: The Creature from the Nether

Book 2: The Spiders Show the Way

 

The White Eyed Ghost’s Promise

Book 1: Herobrine Lives

Book 2: Herobrine’s Manor

 

Diary of a Hero Zombie

Book 1: Herobrine’s Gauntlet

Book 2: The Cult of Herobrine

Book 3: Into the Nether Portal

 

Diary of Erik Enderman

Book 1: Block Thief

Book 2: Adventures with Steve

Book 3: The Legend of the Endermen’s Treasure

 

Diary of a Valiant Wolf

Book 1: Steve’s Wolves

Book 2: Zombie Horde

Book 3: Defeating the Dragon

 

Diary of a Mob – Bony the Skeleton,

Book 1: Where the Block is My Bow?

Book 2: Where the Block is My Dad?

 

Diary of a Mob – Sebastian the Gutsy Sheep

Book 1: No Ordinary Sheep

Book 2: Sebastian Seeks Revenge

 

Rise of the Wither, Book 1: New Danger

 

Books in the Carnival of Doom series

Book One: The Angry Ghost

Book Two: To the Nether Portal

Book Three: Trapped

 

Books in the Diary of a Crafty Player Series

Book One: Blocky World

Book Two: The Fort Keepers

Book Three: The Search for the Dragon

 

Diary of Reg the Villager,

Book One: In Search of the Creative Mode

Book Two: Nether Here Nor There

Book Three: The Wolfdog and the Dragon

 

Diary of Steve the Explorer, The Cube World Chronicles

Book One: The Unknown Enemy

Book Two: Diary of the Curious Creeper

Book Three: Diary of an Enderman, the Game Keeper

 

Diary of Steve the Adventurer,

Book One: In the Lair of Herobrine

Book Two: To the Nether Portal

 

Diary of a Zombie Hunter,

Book One: The Zombie Specialist

Book Two: Zombie or Griefers

Book Three: The Captain of Overwatch

 

Diary of a Mob – Rowley the Rabbit,

Book One: The Runaway Rabbit

 

Books in the Diary of an Adventurous Creeper Series

Book One: Creeper Chronicles

Book Two: Journey to the End

Book Three: Dragon Savior

 

Books in the Adventures Through the Over World Trilogy

Book One: Creeping Transformation

Book Two: Steven and the Island of Bones

Book Three: The Zoo in Jericho City

 

The Quest: The Untold Story of Steve Trilogy

Book One: The Tale of a Hero

Book Two: The Unfinished Game

Book Three: The Endings and Beginnings of a Legend

 

The Obsidian Chronicles Trilogy

The Obsidian Chronicles, Book One: Ender Rain

The Obsidian Chronicles, Book Two: Hell and Back

The Obsidian Chronicles, Book Three: Of Dragons and Demons

 

The Doppelganger Trilogy

The Doppelganger, Book One: Steve’s Chance

The Doppelganger, Book Two: Steve vs. Herobrine

The Doppelganger, Book Three: The Ender Dragon Reborn

 

The Cult Trilogy

The Cult, Part One

The Cult, Part Two

The Cult, Part Three

 

The Legend: The Mystery of Herobrine Trilogy

Book One: The Start of the Quest

Book Two: The Truth about the Myth

Book Three: Herobrine versus the World

 

The Dragon’s Mountain Trilogy

Book One: Attacked by the Griefers

Book Two: The Hidden Village

Book Three: The White Mobs

 

The Temple of Destruction Trilogy

Book One: The Lost Treasures

Book Two: The Curse

Book Three: Notch versus Herobrine

 

Books in The Enemy’s Revenge Trilogy

Book One: Ghost Sightings

Book Two: Kidnapped

Book Three: To The End World

 

Attack of the Overworld Trilogy

Book One: Finding Herobrine

Book Two: Finding Steve

Book Three: The Final Mine

 


The Master Hunter and His Witty Ocelot, Book 4: Ocelot Olympics

GENRE: Children’s Adventure (An Unofficial Minecraft Diary Book for Kids Ages 9 - 12 (Preteen) Hunter the Master Hunter is back! After fighting pirate ships in the sky, he and his pet ocelot, Trapper want to take a break. What better place to vacation than the tropical Ocelot Island? Once they get there, it turns out all the Ocelots are competing against one another in Olympic games?! Yeah! And Trapper gets in on the action when he finds his true life’s calling as a…Tic-Tac-Toe Archer? What in the world is that! Hunter gets caught up in his own heap of trouble when he meets a strange man named Record-Man Stan. He happens to own all the music discs on the seed, but it seems like he’s hiding something… Make no mistake; this is a high-octane edge-of-your-seat thrill ride that sets up another trilogy in the epic Master Hunter Diaries. If you love Minecraft, funny stories, cool adventures, and great characters, you’re going to love this book! Other books in this exciting Minecraft series Book 1: Ancient Relic Book 2: Nether Demons Book 3: Flying Pirate Ship Book 5: Golem Guardians and Horse Ninjas Book 6: The Castle at the End of the End This unofficial Minecraft book is not authorized, endorsed or sponsored by Microsoft Corp., Mojang AB, Notch Development AB or any other person or entity owning or controlling the rights of the Minecraft name, trademark or copyrights. All characters, names, places and other aspects of the game described herein are trademarked and owned by their respective owners. Minecraft®/ /TM & ©2009-2016 Mojang/Notch.

  • ISBN: 9781370577798
  • Author: Mark Mulle
  • Published: 2017-06-29 08:35:10
  • Words: 10978
The Master Hunter and His Witty Ocelot, Book 4: Ocelot Olympics The Master Hunter and His Witty Ocelot, Book 4: Ocelot Olympics