Insides Out Read online

  Table of Contents

  Saturday

  Sunday

  Monday

  Tuesday

  Wednesday

  Thursday

  Friday

  Saturday A Few Weeks Later...

  Sunday

  Monday

  Tuesday

  Wednesday

  Thursday

  Friday

  Saturday A Few Weeks Later...

  Sunday

  Thursday

  Thurday Night

  Thursday Late Night

  Thursday Late, Late Night

  Friday

  Saturday

  Find out what happens next!

  Copyright © 2015 Zack Zombie Publishing LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This unofficial novel is an original work of fan fiction which is not sanctioned nor approved by the makers of Minecraft. Minecraft is a registered trademark of, and owned by, Mojang Synergies AB, and its respective owners, which do not sponsor, authorize, or endorse this book. 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.

  Saturday

  “YOU’RE THE WORST!”

  SLAM!

  Urrrrgggghhhhh!

  Why do parents have to be so mean!

  All I wanted to do was stay up and join the “All Day Minecraft Marathon PVP Video Game Tournament” like all the other famous Ztubers.

  But noooooooooo!

  “You’re only 13 years old, blah, blah, blah!” they said.

  “And you need your sleep if you want to grow up to be an unhealthy young zombie, blah, blah, blah!”

  “Don’t you know that if you don’t sleep you won’t grow any spores, molds and fungus? Blah, blah, blah.”

  “Eat your Mushroom stew, blah, blah, blah!”

  “Dirty your room, blah, blah, blah!”

  “Pick your scabs, blah, blah, blah!”

  “Pick up your butt, blah, blah, blah!”

  Sometimes I wonder if you have to pass a “mean” test to be a parent.

  And only the really mean ones can have more than one kid.

  My parents must’ve gotten an A++++ on their “Meanness” exam.

  With extra points for nagging, hovering, lecturing and bugging.

  Knowing my parents, they probably went to a “Meanness” boot camp to prepare for their Meanness exam.

  That’s probably where they learned how to say no to everything.

  Drill Instructor: “SOLDIER! WHAT DID YOU SAY?!!

  Mom and Dad: “YES SIRR!”

  Drill Instructor: “WHAT WAS THAT?!!”

  Mom and Dad: “I MEAN, NO SIR!”

  Drill Instructor: “AND WHAT DO WE SAY NO TO, SOLDIER?!!”

  Mom and Dad: “EVERYTHING THE KID THINKS IS FUN, SIR!”

  Drill Instructor: “LIKE WHAT, SOLDIER?!!”

  Mom and Dad: “LIKE VIDEO GAMES, SWEETS BEFORE DINNER, AND STAYING UP LATE, SIR!”

  Drill Instructor: “AND WHAT IS OUR MOTTO AS PARENTS, SOLDIER?!!”

  Mom and Dad: “SAY NO TO FUN, SAY NO TO CAKE, SAY NO TO GAMES, AND STAYING UP LATE, SIR!”

  Drill Instructor: “ARE YOU SURE, SOLDIER?!!”

  Mom and Dad: “SIR! YES, SIR!”

  Drill Instructor: “WHAT WAS THAT?!!”

  Mom and Dad: “I MEAN, SIR! NO SIR!”

  Drill Instructor: “SAY IT AGAIN, SOLDIER!!!!”

  Mom and Dad: “JUST SAY NO TO EVERYTHING THE KID LIKES, SIR!”

  Yeah, that’s probably where they learned it.

  Man, being a thirteen year old zombie really stinks.

  Sunday

  I bet Steve knows how to deal with parents.

  That’s because Steve doesn’t live with his parents. He lives with villagers.

  He probably traded in his parents years ago.

  Yeah, villagers like to trade. He probably got an emerald for them.

  Man, if he could teach me how to do that, that would be awesome.

  Well, just for at least a few days anyway. Then I could enter the next All Day Minecraft Marathon PVP Tournament that’s happening this week.

  I went to go find Steve, but he wasn’t at his house.

  I went to his favorite punching tree, but he wasn’t there either.

  He wasn’t at his diamond cave either.

  I wonder where he could be.

  All of a sudden I heard, “OOOOOHHHHHMMMM, OOOOOHHHHHMMMM.”

  I followed it to the middle of the forest, and there was Steve.

  But he was standing on his head making noises…

  “OOOOOHHHHHMMMM. OOOOOHHHHHMMMM.”

  “Yo, Steve, watcha doing, man?”

  “Oh, hey Zombie. Whaddup Dawg?”

  “What dog?”

  “You dawg.”

  “Whose dog?”

  “You dawg.”

  I think Steve was standing on his head too long. He thinks I’m a dog.

  “Dude, what dog?”

  “Forget it, dawg,” Steve said as he got back on his feet. “Sup Zombie, how’s it going?”

  “Uh, OK. Hey, why were you on your head making those strange noises? You sounded like my uncle Rufus when he lost his jawbone.”

  “Oh that? That was Yoga.”

  “Yogurt?”

  “Not yogurt. Yoga.”

  “Yoda?”

  “Yo-Ga!”

  “What’s Yo-ga?”

  “Yoga is something you do to help you find inner peace,” Steve said.

  “Oh, I lost an inner piece once. I think it was a piece of my spinal column… Man that hurt. I think it slipped out and got lodged in my butt.”

  Steve just looked at me with a strange look.

  “What inner piece did you lose?” I asked. “Oh, I get it; standing on your head probably helped you get it out of your butt, right?”

  “No, not that kind of inner piece. Inner peace.”

  Now I looked at Steve with a strange look. Maybe the piece is still stuck in his butt, I thought.

  “Does it hurt, Steve?”

  Steve took his hand and slapped himself in the face. I guess humans have to slap themselves to get the inner piece outta their butts.

  “Zombie, sometimes when you’re feeling some really strong feelings, you have to find a way of getting them out.”

  “Out of your butt?”

  Steve slapped himself again. Man, that thing must be really stuck in there.

  “No, Zombie. Out of your heart. You need to get your feelings out of your heart.”

  “What’s a heart?”

  Steve gave me another weird look.

  “Wait a minute, you don’t have a heart?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never really heard that word before.”

  “Well, let’s take a look. Lift up your shirt.”

  I lifted up my shirt, and started to giggle when Steve stuck his hand in the hole in my stomach.

  Next thing you know, his whole
arm was in there feeling around for something. All of a sudden his fingers started poking out of my nose socket.

  Then he pulled his arm out.

  “Yup, no heart. Wow, Zombie, that’s crazy. But, then…where do your feelings come from?”

  “What are feelings?” I asked him.

  “Feelings are those things that make you happy, sad, afraid or embarrassed.”

  “I thought farting did that.”

  “Well…yeah. But I mean when you’re not farting.”

  That’s a good question. Where do my feelings come from?

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  Steve looked at me kind of serious this time.

  “What is it?” I asked him.

  “Well, then what do you do when your feelings get really intense? How do you calm down?”

  “You mean without using yogurt?”

  “Uh… Yeah.”

  Man, Steve was asking some really hard questions. Where do my feelings come from? What do I do when my feelings get too intense? What flavor yogurt I like? I was getting really confused.

  “Steve, why should I care about this stuff?”

  “Because one day you’re going to have some really intense feelings, and if you don’t know what to do with them, strange things could start happening to you.”

  I said goodbye to Steve and I went home. As I was walking away, I could hear him start moaning again like before.

  I guess he’s trying to find that inner piece again.

  What was it that I needed to ask Steve about again?

  Man, I totally forgot.

  But talking about yogurt really made me hungry.

  Monday

  “MOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!”

  “What is it, dear?!!!!”

  My mom ran into my room.

  “Look at my face!”

  “Oh dear.”

  “FRANCIS!” my mom yelled.

  “What is it Mildred?” my dad asked, running into my room.

  “Dad, look at my face!”

  “Oh, boy.”

  I could tell by looking at my Mom and Dad’s faces that they knew what was going on with me.

  “WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?!!!”

  I looked at the mirror again, and my face was as red as an apple.

  “It’s called mood skin, honey,” my mom said.

  “Mood skin?!!! What’s that?”

  “Well, Zombie… It happens during puberty, when you have a lot of really intense emotions that you’re feeling,” Mom said. “If you don’t find a way to release those feelings, well…strange things start to happen with your body.”

  “Has this ever happened to you, Mom?”

  “Not to me, but I think your father went through something like that, right Francis?”

  “DAD!!!! DO SOMETHING!”

  “Well, Zombie, there’s not much you can do. You just have to wait till it goes away,” Dad said.

  “How long did you have to wait?”

  All of sudden my Dad started to rub his arm. Then he started to roll up his sleeve. About halfway up his arm, his green skin turned neon yellow.

  “Well, remember I told you that I got this yellow spot from an accident at my job at the Nuclear Waste Plant… Well, I wasn’t being totally honest with you…”

  “Wha..?!!!!”

  “Well, it’s almost totally gone. I think after the 20th year, that’s when it really started to fade…”

  “WHHAATTTT!!!!! I start school next week. I can’t go to school like this!”

  All of a sudden my skin started to glow a really bright red.

  **SHHIINNNEE!!***

  “Whoa, Zombie! Calm down. Don’t worry, son, we’ll take you to the doctor tomorrow. I’m sure they have a cure for mood skin now. They’ve made a lot of advances in medicine since your Father’s day.”

  “Hey!” Dad said.

  “Sorry, dear,” Mom said with a smirk on her face.

  Oh man, my young 13 year old Zombie life is ruined! If I go to school like this, I’ll be laughed out of middle school.

  “Man, just when I thought I had enough puberty problems...”

  You see, all of the other guys have gotten bigger, but I haven’t grown that much. I’m still the shortest one out of all of them.

  Actually, I think I’m the shortest kid out of all the mob kids at school.

  I’m even shorter than Blake, the Guardian, even when he flops over on his side.

  But, thank goodness for Rajit. I’m still bigger than he is.

  So I hang out with Rajit a lot…

  Especially in front of the girls.

  And I’m really glad I’m not going to high school looking like this. First day of school I’d be laughed out of town.

  I mean, who ever heard of a red faced zombie?

  Tuesday

  “Mommy, look!”

  I hoped the little kid wasn’t talking about me.

  “Dear, it’s not polite to point,” the zombie lady said to her son in the Doctor’s office.

  “But he looks like a lollipop.”

  Yup. He was.

  “Honey, SHHHH! It’s not nice to make fun of the young Mooshroom. They have feelings too you know.”

  All of a sudden my face started to glow a bright red.

  My mom took her green nylon stocking and put it over my head. I guess she thought it would help.

  It didn’t.

  Everybody in the waiting area ran for their lives.

  “OK, now who’s next?” the doctor asked walking into the waiting room. “Hey, where’d everybody go?”

  “We’re next, Doctor,” my mom said frantically.

  “Well, come on into my office, Mrs. Zombie,” he said as he took a quick glance my way with a strange look on his face.

  When we got in his office, it had a bunch of Zombie clown pictures on the wall which really creeped me out.

  “Now, what seems to be the problem?” the doctor asked.

  “Well, my son Zombie is kind of going through some…um…changes,” she said to the doctor and then she gave him a look like if he would know what she was talking about.

  “Oh, OK. Well, let’s take a look under here, why don’t we?” He pulled the nylon stocking off of my head.

  “Whoa! That has got to be the brightest red face I have ever seen! You must be the first in history. I’ve never seen anything so strange! Oh, I need to take a picture of this to show my golf buddies!”

  Then the doctor ran out of the office to get his camera.

  My mom slapped her face like Steve did. I guess her butt must hurt too.

  Then my mom gave me a crooked smile to try to cheer me up.

  It didn’t really help.

  She’s a Zombie. She always has a crooked smile.

  “It’ll be OK, Zombie, I promise,” she said.

  All of a sudden the doctor came in with a few of the other nurses.

  “Oh my! He is red!” one nurse said.

  “He looks like a lollipop! I could just lick his head right now,” another nurse said.

  “That boy’s head is redder than the ball at Scarget. You should talk to them you know. You could make great money doing their commercials… Or just standing in front of the store...”

  Next thing I know my face was glowing redder than ever before.

  **SHHIINNNEE!!***

  “Whoa!” the doctor and nurses said. Then they put on sunglasses and started clapping.

  “WAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” I started crying.

  “Well I never!” My mom said as she grabbed her things and put the green nylon stocking back on my head.

  I cried myself to sleep that night.


  For the next 20 years I was going to be known as “Tomato Face” or “Carrot Top” or “Mooshroom Boy.”

  And I will never be able to see my beautiful green face ever again…

  Wednesday

  “MOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!”

  “What is it dear?!!!!”

  My mom ran into my room.

  “Look at my face!”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Francis!”

  “What is it? My dad asked, as he ran into my room.

  “Oh boy.”

  When I looked in the mirror, now my face was all BLUE!

  “WAAAHHHH!!! What’s the matter with me?!!!! WAAAHHHH!!!”

  “Well, Zombie, they call it mood skin because your skin usually reflects whatever mood you are in,” my Dad said. “When I was younger, I used to be afraid a lot, so my skin turned…”

  “WAAAHHHH!!! MOM, DO SOMETHING!!!! WAAAHHHH!!!”

  All of sudden my skin started glowing a bright blue.

  **SHHIINNNEE!!***

  “Whoa. Zombie, calm down. Don’t worry, son, it will get better in time.”

  She looked at my Dad with a serious expression like he would know what she meant.

  I knew what she meant! 20 years of misery!

  “WAAAHHHH!!!”

  “I think I know what will help,” my Dad said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Then he ran out of the room, out the front door and drove off.

  “Mom, I can’t go to school like this! The kids will laugh at me!”

  “Don’t worry, Zombie, it’s only a phase,” she said, but I could tell that she didn’t really believe what she was saying.

  “WAAAHHHH!!!”

  A little while later my Dad came back home.

  He pulled out a bag, and out of the bag my Dad pulled out some yellow tinted sunglasses and put them on. Then he gave a pair to my Mom. Then he put the last pair on my face.

  “How about now, son?” he asked. “Good as new, right?”