So just in case you were wondering, the party was an EPIC fail. And I blame Santa. Santa SAM, that is.
Do you know what that slime planned behind my back? Well, I guess Willow and ZIGGY knew the plan, because Ziggy could barely keep it to himself.
As soon as I got to the party, Ziggy said they had a surprise for me. He was grunting with excitement, and I could tell that the secret was gonna spill right out of his mouth like a hunk of rotten-flesh sandwich.
Willow could tell too, because she slapped her hand over his mouth. GROSS.
She wiped her hand on her robe afterward, but I hope she has zombie germs now. That would serve her right. You know why? Because she and her BOYFRIEND totally TRICKED me.
See, Sam bounced over all innocent-like and told me to close my eyes. Which I did. Partly because he looked so goofy in his Santa outfit, and I knew if I kept looking at him, I’d burst out laughing. And partly because I TRUSTED him.
HUGE mistake, that was.
He and Willow spun me in a circle, and when I opened my eyes, I was all wrapped up in twinkly lights. WHAT???
Then Sam announced that I was the Christmas tree for the party. “You didn’t want a cactus tree, so we decided to have a CREEPER tree!” He laughed so hard, his whole body jiggled.
I thought it was just one of Willow’s dumb jokes. But as mobs and parents started showing up, I realized Sam and Willow were going to LEAVE me wrapped in those lights. ALL NIGHT. I was going to have to perform my RAP dressed like a talking, twinkling Christmas tree. And that’s the kind of thing that can ruin a rapping career, let me tell you.
I ordered Sam to unwrap me PRONTO, but he completely ignored me. And as I watched him playing a jolly, jiggly Santa to baby zombies and sloppy mini slimes, my insides started bubbling like lava. I started to hiss. I ALMOST exploded right there on the spot (and I really try not to do that very often).
Then I saw that I was scaring one of the little zombies who was waiting in line to see Santa. It was Zoe, Ziggy’s baby sister! I met her once at a sleepover. But now that I was all wrapped up like a Christmas tree, she didn’t recognize me. (Go figure.)
I felt bad for scaring her. But when I saw her let a mini slime barge in line in front of her, I figured something out. She wasn’t scared of ME. She was scared of SANTA.
So I crouched down next to her—which kind of hurts when you’re wrapped up in twinkly lights. I asked her if she wanted to see Santa, and she shook her head. So I told her I was the Talking Tree and that she could talk to me instead of Santa, if she wanted to.
She smiled and whispered something in my ear. Normally I don’t let zombies get anywhere CLOSE to my face. But Zoe is a whole lot cuter than Ziggy—and not nearly as stinky and gross. (Too bad baby zombies have to grow up.)
Anyway, do you know what she said? She said Santa doesn’t WIKE her. (Translation: Santa doesn’t LIKE her. She was kind of slurping on her thumb.) She said he doesn’t come see her because she’s naughty and doesn’t go to sleep.
Well, I don’t know much about this Santa guy. But I think it’s pretty unfair that village kids get to meet him and baby zombies don’t. I told Zoe she wasn’t naughty for staying awake.
“LOTS of kids stay awake,” I said. “Like kids in the Nether. THEY don’t sleep. And it’s not because they’re naughty. It’s because they don’t have beds. Do you know what happens to beds in the Nether?”
Zoe’s eyes got wide and she shook her head.
“They blow up!” I whispered.
“So there’s no sleeping in the Nether.” I made a funny face, and Zoe giggled. I thought I handled that one pretty well. Turns out, I was kind of a natural at this Talking Tree thing.
Before Zoe ran back to her parents, she handed me a crumpled-up piece of paper. It was a drawing of a tiny green blob next to a big red blob. Someone, maybe Ziggy, had written “Zoe” under the green blob and “Santa” under the red one.
But Zoe didn’t give it to Santa. She gave it to ME.
Well, I had to admit, that was pretty cute. I didn’t even mind that the paper was probably full of zombie germs. I smoothed it out and stuck it under the row of twinkly lights that was stretched across my stomach like a belt.
But by the time I stood back up, the line of kids in front of Sam was GONE. Parents were leaving—RUNNING for the door, actually. And I hadn’t even done my rap!
What in the Overworld was going on???
That’s when I saw Santa Sam, sitting in the middle of a GINORMOUS green cloud, holding a cup of eggnog. Looking like he’d just ruined Christmas.
I couldn’t get out of that room fast enough. I mean, it’s pretty much impossible to run when your legs are wrapped in twinkly lights. Plus, I almost slipped on a mini slime on my way out the door.
So like I said, the party was a total disaster. We earned a few emeralds. But after Sam and I split them, there were barely enough left over to pay Willow back for the eggnog ingredients. I bet she’ll never make THAT again.
Anyway, I keep looking at the picture Zoe made of Santa. And I’m thinking, this Santa guy sure has a lot of work to do. Maybe TOO much work, because he’s kind of blowing it. The dude needs some help.
So now I’m wondering . . . Is there a way for ME to help him out? And to earn more emeralds at the same time? And to make Santa WIKE Zoe and maybe visit her once in a while?
I guess I need to add one more thing to my 30-day plan. I swear, that list is getting longer instead of shorter. But this one’s important.
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Help out Santa. (And the baby zombie.)
