Captain's Log

Captain’s Log, Parenthood Date: 1659 (2)

The tiny natives have proved to be strangely possessive of the toilet, guarding it fiercely, even from one another. They squabble over it, both clambering upon the seat when one declares the need to relieve him or herself. The fact that there is another toilet here, not half a minute’s walk from the first, does not foster peace between them. Furthermore, in the event that I am allowed to use the restroom, they insist on remaining nearby, watching. I believe the toilet acts as some kind of false god to them, so precious they are loath to allow me near it.

It has been four hours since my last attempt. I fear I may not make it through the fifth.

Captain's Log

Captain’s Log, Parenthood Date: 1659

The mornings are the bleakest. Today especially, the tiny natives have punished me for the grave crime of not being my Co-Captain. It is barely 0900 hours, and I have been kicked, flailed upon, and made to suffer the piercing cry of the Loch Mess Monster. He is the most attached to the Co-Captain, though the Chunkacabra rivals his affection in many ways. My only reprieve is that Sassquatch has not yet awoken. She seems more attached to sleep than to any human, which is both a blessing and a curse. Her slumber is peaceful, but there is often violence when she is made to abandon it. I fear what might happen when she wakes.

Captain's Log

Captain’s Log, Parenthood Date: 1658

I fear my Co-Captain is losing his mind. I was ill upon waking this morning, thrusting him into the captain’s duties alone. For twelve hours, he has cared for the tiny natives with little reprieve. However, he is not accustomed to this burden, as I am, and has shown several signs of impending insanity. Concerning behaviors include: a twitching eye, random bouts of shouting, and obsessive repetition of one phrase (“STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!”). To add to my concern, I have noticed several times that he appears to be covered in drool. I cannot say for certain whether the drool was his own. I can only hope the tiny natives will tire soon, lest I lose my Co-Captain altogether.

I, on the other hand, am well-rested and feeling much better. It cannot last.

Captain's Log

Captain’s Log, Parenthood Date: 1654

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.

Captain's Log

Captain’s Log, Parenthood Date: 1398

The second tiny native, Loch Mess Monster–or as we call him, Messy–has taken great strides these last months. He has yet to speak, which is concerning to both my Co-Captain and me, but Sassquatch speaks enough for the both of them. It is only unfortunate that she so rarely speaks without sarcasm.

A third tiny native appeared on the island today, much to our surprise. She too, cries often. My Co-Captain has tried to discern from whence and why these natives keep appearing, but to no avail. There seems to be no pattern; no rhyme or reason that we can see. While we will continue pursuing this mystery, who can tell how many more natives will reveal themselves in the interim?

We are outnumbered.