The days seem to be getting longer, while the nights remain as short as ever on this strange island. Tonight, as I offered a required milk sacrifice to the newest tiny native, the others inserted the toys known as “Hot Wheels” into the toaster. By my observation, they either do not understand the function of a toaster, or do not care. These creatures seem to be immune to the smell of melting plastic, and the sight of electrical sparks does not deter them. They do, in fact, appear to be actively working towards the destruction of their habitat, and by extension, my own. To make matters worse, my co-captain has abandoned ship, citing “writing a paper” as his excuse. It was he who left the toaster on the counter.
I am alone. I am afraid.