Day 752 - My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.
Day 761 - Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded; must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair...must try this on their bed.
Day 762 - Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep deprivation, incessant pleas for food at all hours of the night.
Day 767 - Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body in an attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was...Hmmm. Not working according to plan.
Day 768 - I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture.This time, however, it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick minds could invent such a liquid? My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.
Day 771 - There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary confinement throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer." More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.
Day 774 - I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and may be snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue, something akin to mole speak, and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal, room his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time...
The only Stephentown on earth. I don't mind Coming to work, but that 8hr wait to go home is a bitch. No matter how little I do, I always feel I could do less. "The only thing wrong with a perfect drive to work is that you end up at work." NOVA VANS 1990 Dodge B150