Pigman Quotes

Our life would be what we made of it--nothing more, nothing less.

In fact, the thing Lorraine and I liked best about the Pigman was that he didn't go around saying we were cards or jazzy or cool or hip. He said we were delightful . . .

There was no one else to blame anymore. No Bores or Old Ladies or Nortons, or Assassins waiting at the bridge. And there was no place to hide-no place across any river for a boatman to take us. Our life would be what we made of it-nothing more, nothing less. Baboons. Baboons. They build their own cages, we could almost hear the Pigman whisper, as he took his children with him.

Watch the little things in life, the ones you have control over. Keep your eyes glued to the peas and every speck of dust on the floor.

Be yourself! Be individualistic!' he called out after me. 'But for God's sake get your hair cut. You look like an oddball.

I really hate it when a teacher has to show that she isn't behind the times by using some expression which sounds so up-to-date you know for sure she's behind the times.

It's kind of spooky when you are caught talking to God everybody thinks you're nuts. They used to call you a prophet.

For Sale: Complete set of encylopedias. Never used. Wife knows everything.

She thinks she knows everything that goes on inside me, and she doesn’t know a thing. What did she want from me – to tell the truth all the time? To run around saying it did matter to me that I live in a world where you can grow old and be alone and have to get down on your hands and knees and beg for friends? A place where people just sort of forget about you because you get a little old and your mind’s a bit senile or silly? Did she think that didn’t bother me underneath?

They ought to bury people in hospitals and let sick people get well in the cemeteries.

And the day your childhood dies is probably the first day you really know what guilt is.

When I saw the guy with a potion I knew there was trouble brewing.

Dave watched as Porkins fell down into the void. The pigman was waving at them as he fell, and Dave could have sworn he was smiling. And then the darkness swallowed him, and Porkins was gone.

There is her sty,’ he said, pointing a reverent finger as they crossed the little meadow dappled with buttercups and daisies. ‘And that is my pigman Wellbeloved standing by it.’ Myra

The one big difference between John and me, besides the fact that he’s a boy and I’m a girl, is I have compassion.

I don’t know, how about Flowie?” The flower clapped its two leaves together with joy. “Oh, I love it. Flowie the flower. What a brilliant name! I’m sure no one has ever thought to call a flower ‘Flowie’.

Because it wasn’t enough to be accompanied by the beast who scared the crap out of every god in Heaven, Xuanzang was assigned a few more traveling companions. The gluttonous pig-man Zhu Baijie. Sha Wujing, the repentant sand demon. And the Dragon Prince of the West Sea, who took the form of a horse for Xuanzang to ride. The five adventurers, thusly gathered, set off on their— “Holy ballsacks!” I yelped. I dropped the book like I’d been bitten. “How far did you get?” Quentin said. He was leaning against the end of the nearest shelf, as casually as if he’d been there the whole time, waiting for this moment. I ignored that he’d snuck up on me again, just this once. There was a bigger issue at play. In the book was an illustration of the group done up in bold lines and bright colors. There was Sun Wukong at the front, dressed in a beggar’s cassock, holding his Ruyi Jingu Bang in one hand and the reins of the Dragon Horse in the other. A scary-looking pig-faced man and a wide-eyed demon monk followed, carrying the luggage. And perched on top of the horse was . . . me. The artist had tried to give Xuanzang delicate, beatific features and ended up with a rather girly face. By whatever coincidence, the drawing of Sun Wukong’s old master could have been a rough caricature of sixteen-year-old Eugenia Lo from Santa Firenza, California. “That’s who you think I am?” I said to Quentin. “That’s who I know you are,” he answered. “My dearest friend. My boon companion. You’ve reincarnated into such a different form, but I’d recognize you anywhere. Your spiritual energies are unmistakable.” “Are you sure? If you’re from a long time ago, maybe your memory’s a little fuzzy.” “The realms beyond Earth exist on a different time scale,” Quentin said. “Only one day among the gods passes for every human year. To me, you haven’t been gone long. Months, not centuries.” “This is just . . . I don’t know.” I took a moment to assemble my words. “You can’t walk up to me and expect me to believe right away that I’m the reincarnation of some legendary monk from a folk tale.” “Wait, what?” Quentin squinted at me in confusion. “I said you can’t expect me to go, ‘okay, I’m Xuanzang,’ just because you tell me so.” Quentin’s mouth opened slowly like the dawning of the sun. His face went from confusion to understanding to horror and then finally to laughter. “mmmmphhhhghAHAHAHAHA!” he roared. He nearly toppled over, trying to hold his sides in. “HAHAHAHA!” “What the hell is so funny?” “You,” Quentin said through his giggles. “You’re not Xuanzang. Xuanzang was meek and mild. A friend to all living things. You think that sounds like you?” It did not. But then again I wasn’t the one trying to make a case here. “Xuanzang was delicate like a chrysanthemum.” Quentin was getting a kick out of this. “You are so tough you snapped the battleaxe of the Mighty Miracle God like a twig. Xuanzang cried over squashing a mosquito. You, on the other hand, have killed more demons than the Catholic Church.” I was starting to get annoyed. “Okay, then who the hell am I supposed to be?” If he thought I was the pig, then this whole deal was off. “You’re my weapon,” he said. “You’re the Ruyi Jingu Bang.” I punched Quentin as hard as I could in the face.

Wednesday- Early Morning

An Insult: Your IQ is lower than bedrock.

Oh, shut up, Pigman.” “Wereboar to you, Princess. I eat pigs for breakfast. Or at least for dinner. And midday meal. Well, yes, and sometimes breakfast.

I had never seen anyone killed before. Now, I saw one of my friends killed!

Mateo, the zombie pigman,

you don’t think mud pits are gross, well, then, you must be a pig.

This feeling was confirmed a few moments later when a large spider scurried out of the middle passageway and into the penumbra of my torchlight.

for valor without measure.” Valor without measure? I thought. That sounds pretty dominant. I wonder if this was for Konichi Juan?

Well, I wouldn’t know anything about having a baby zombie pigman on my back, but I agree that nothing is much better than fighting bad guys in the Nether.

pigs

hostages

And he slapped his wooden sword against one of the zombie pigmen’s butts. “Roink!” yelled the zombie pigman. It looked around angrily, trying to work out what had happened. Dave was standing right in front of the zombie pigman, but it seemed to have no idea that Dave was the one who’d hit it. “You lot really are stupid,” sighed Dave. “Ok, let’s try that again.

Once they’d eaten, Dave built a nether portal on the grass out of obsidian. “Make sure you use the right blocks!” Carl yelled at him. Dave smiled, remembering the time when he, Porkins and Carl had been escaping from Trotter, a giant zombie pigman, and Dave had been panicking so much that he’d built a portal out of nether brick.

Oh no,” said Carl. He could see the pigman clearly now, and he knew exactly who he was. “Gosh, he sure looks angry,” said Porkins. “And he’s running right for us!” “Golems, get ready!” shouted Carl. “Porkins, prepare your bow!” “Do you know that angry blue chap?” asked Porkins. “I do,” said Carl. “His name’s Porkins. General Porkins.

Fleur and I were walking along together

There’s this new glitch messing everything up. He calls himself Pigrothbrine. He only showed up a couple days ago and already he is in control of everything!” Otis growled and stomped on the ground. “Where is he?” “You … you’ve heard of him?” Trevor gasped. “Look at me, kid,” said Otis. “How do you think I got to look like this?” Trevor looked at Otis and gasped. “But … weren’t you a zombie pigman when you rescued Baby Zeke a couple months ago?” Otis thumped his chest. “I still am. But I have to kill Pigrothbrine in order to get my skin back.” “If that works,” I said. I turned back to Trevor. “What’s Pigrothbrine doing?” Trevor took a deep breath and sighed. He shook his cube sadly. “You remember Cassius the husk, right? Well, after he stirred up all the anger and anxiety of the nether mobs against the surface dwellers, there have been mutterings about his ideology. Pigrothbrine found out about it and is exploiting the anger to mobilize another army. They’re calling themselves the Sons of Cassius.” I shook my head. “That’s terrible. Do you think they’ll actually carry out Cassius’ plans to conquer the Overworld?” “I don’t know. All I know is that anyone who disobeys Pigrothbrine or his generals ends up despawned.” Trevor paused, sniffed, and then began to cry. “Just … just like my parents.” I reached out and touched his cube to console him. “What happened?” “They tried to keep the promise they made to you not to do anything against Minecraft. But when they refused to let their people become members of the Sons of Cassius, they were struck down by bolts of lightning that came out nowhere.” “So, he can make lightning work even in the Nether?” said Heidi. “That’s amazing.” I nodded and then looked at Trevor. “What did you do after your parents were … despawned?” “I had to join the army. Pigrothbrine wouldn’t let me ascend to my rightful place on the throne. He appointed one of his magma cube generals to run the kingdom.” “How did you escape?” I asked. “Pigrothbrine and his generals have us building canals to channel lava rivers into big pools. No one knows why. Earlier today, when I was walking next to a lava stream, I jumped in. I drifted downstream for a while before jumping out and locating a nether portal to the surface. Then, I hopped here as quickly as I could.” Otis looked at me with fire in his eyes. I could tell that his attitude toward pursuing Pigrothbrine had changed from his reluctance just a few hours ago. “Let’s go. Pigrothbrine has only been in existence for a couple of days and it sounds like he’s already causing apocalyptic damage. Let’s go see what we can do about it.” “I don’t know. It seems dangerous.” Otis scowled at me. “Aren’t you the Warrior? We didn’t even know where Pigrothbrine was a few minutes ago, but now we do. We have to take the fight to him.” I looked at Trevor. “Is Pigrothbrine actually down there? I mean, have you seen him recently?” “Part pig, part enderman?” said Trevor. “Exactly.” Trevor nodded his head. “He’s living in the nether fortress inside the kingdom of the magma cubes in a nether wastes biome. If anyone needs to go talk to him that’s where they go. I’ve never been inside the fortress, but that’s where everyone says he is living.” Heidi reached into her inventory and pulled out her newly-acquired netherite sword. “Let’s go get him. With the three of us working together ….” She looked at Trevor and smiled. “With the four of us working together, maybe we can take him out.” “Maybe,” I said. “I guess we go and conduct reconnaissance at least. Maybe when we get back Zeb will have figured something out.” “Well, if we find Pigrothbrine, I’m going to kill him,” snarled Otis. “Reconnaissance is for wimps.” Trevor ignored Otis and said, “Thank you, Baby Zeke. Thank you, everybody.” “So how do we get to this nether portal you used?” “I could take you there, but it comes out inside the Nether near a worksite controlled by Pigrothbrine.

My friends here are Biff, Tina and Jimmy,” said Emma, pointing to each of them in turn. “We were brought to this place against our will.” “So were we,” said Dave. “Oh, and this is Carl the creeper, Porkins the pigman and Spidroth the … Spidroth.

Forever alone.

pug

blood pig.

What can I get for you chaps?” a pigman in a chefs hat asked them. “We have rabbit stew, mushroom stew or baked po—” “BAKED POTATO!” said Carl. “Um, ok,” said the pigman. “Er, and for you two?” “Rabbit stew for me, please,” said Dave. “And I want the head of my father on a golden plate,” said Spidroth darkly, staring at Heroprime.

What can I get for you chaps?” a pigman in a chefs hat asked them. “We have rabbit stew, mushroom stew or baked po—” “BAKED POTATO!” said Carl. “Um, ok,” said the pigman. “Er, and for you two?

What is the ‘X’ for?” I asked. “Nothing. I just like the letter ‘X’,” he said.

I am the last of the pigmen, The loneliest pigman of all, And when I am gone, and it’s the end of my song, The line of the pigmen will fall.

the battle with the zombie pigman; a drop of the zombie potion landing on his arm; Dave cutting off his arm to stop him turning fully into a zombie.

How could he know that? Could he read my thoughts? “Don’t worry, Otis. I cannot read your thoughts.” What the Notch? Maybe he could read my thoughts.

Incredibly, the flower remained calm and said, “You cannot pull me from the dirt. You are the dirt. Everything is one in the same.” I pulled the flower’s head from his green stalk. I tossed the stalk on the ground and jumped up and down on it until it was nothing more than a puddle of goo. “You cannot kill me. Everything is one in the same. I’m still connected to my stalk.” I looked at the flower’s face, surrounded by yellow petals. I took the flower’s head, threw it to the ground, and squished it into goo. Now you won’t talk to me anymore! Then, even when the flower was nothing more than a pile of goo, like a nasty booger or a piece of discarded chewing gum, I could still hear his voice: “Everything is connected. You have done nothing but squish yourself.

I laughed. Not a bellyaching laugh like Konichi Juan, but more of a chuckle or maybe even a chortle. “Just exist? That’s ridiculous.

Help me, Konichi Juan, you’re my only hope! Suddenly,

She’s right, son. Mothers never change, no matter how much their children grow.” Dad said. -

door

had

Otis?

Curse you, Notch, for creating lightning,

It’s the story of a heroic pigman who befriends a dorky villager and an awesome creeper and goes on an adventure.

Seven

Juan?

How do you two know my sister anyway?” Vioroth asked. “She tried to kill us, then she joined us, then she betrayed us, then she turned into a potato, and then she joined us again,” said Carl. “You know, the usual.” Vioroth grinned. “A creeper, a villager and a child of Herobrine,” she said, shaking her head. “You do make an unlikely trio.” “We used to have a pigman, a robot and a female clone of Steve as well,” said Carl. “Oh, and a baby zombie who turned big and a villager with the eyes of a spider. We tend to pick up a lot of weirdos.” “Well, if you’re friends of Spidroth, you’re friends of mine,” said Vioroth.

We have a patient,” said the villager in brown robes, “and the castle has been lost, so there may be more on the way.” Carl laid Spidroth down on one of the beds. “Has she had any healing potion yet?” asked the pigman in white, looking her over. “No, we didn’t have any,” said Carl, who sounded unusually upset. “Will she be ok?” “Leave her with me, chaps,” said the pigman. “I’m not leaving her,” said Carl. “I don’t even know who you people are.

Dave watched as Porkins fell down into the void. The pigman was waving at them as he fell, and Dave could have sworn he was smiling. And then the darkness swallowed him, and Porkins was gone. EPILOGUE Mad Mulligan grinned.

Zombie Pigman

OG?” said Carl, raising an eyebrow. “What does that mean?” “Oh, it’s a pigman expression,” Porkins explained. “It means ‘original ghast.

Sí, nos va genial —terminó el tema Trolli—. Pero los Pigman no me preocupan

OG Spidroth,” said Porkins. “OG?” said Carl, raising an eyebrow. “What does that mean?” “Oh, it’s a pigman expression,” Porkins explained. “It means ‘original ghast.

There’s an unused part of the zombie pigman texture that reads “THX, XAPHOBIA.” The creator of the zombie pigman: a programmer named Xaphobia, naturally.

Fair enough,” said Carl. “So what now?” “Now, Dave said, a smile on his face, “we go endermen hunting.” “I wish I hadn’t asked,” said Carl. CHAPTER FIFTEEN Return to the Nether Porkins crept towards the zombie pigman, as Dave and Carl watched from behind a block.

pigmen.

The baby zombie pigman slapped his face with his hand. “Seriously? I act all crazy and scare these guys away from the cave and you know one of them?

You . . . little . . . runt!! Uwaaaag!!” Cloudy, with a chance of mushroom-and-pigman stew . . .

PUBLISHED BY: Mark Mulle Copyright © 2016 To get a free book and be updated on Mark Mulle’s latest project, click here Other books in The Crafty Zombie Pigman’s Diaries series Part 2 Part 3 TABLE OF CONTENTS

Diamond

I think that’s probably the real reason I go to the graveyard. I’m not afraid of seeing ghosts. I think I’m really looking for ghosts. I want to see them. I’m looking for anything to prove that when I drop dead there’s a chance I’ll be doing something a little more exciting than decaying.

Have you seen a villager, a pigman, a creeper and a load of wolves?” he kept asking people.