Day Four-Hundred-Seventeen: Smelly

Today? Diary? You has BEST plan, by which I says, I has best plan. 'cause I, you diary, we's ONE. One like ratties, only BETTER, 'cause ratties ain't got power of DIARYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Poor ratties. They's so tired under big'un tree. Is no worry, ratties! Some days, more of you's come! Lots mores! They's 'round, they's all's 'round. I know.

And why?

'cause…

I's…

DIARYYYYYYYYYYYYY

But ya. Plan! Best plan. Drags, he is all "I have to find the proper ingredients ta put together a concoction for her!" and BoobyBrowns is all "Just… no more onion, okay?" and Blondie-blonde is all "Yeargh, I's dead. Yeargh."

Last part? Drags call 'fic-tion'. Is make lies, but amuse lies. Yes, diary? Of course? You so smart, diary, and so laugh. I laugh.

…

Waits.

Don't you laughs at ME, diary.

No, no, wait, laughs WITH. Ya, that's the punch ticker thinger.

Ooooooh. Right.

SO PLAN. I hide in Drags bag. I hide, and watch, and seeeeeeeeee what's he put on me. And he is all "When did I put you in here, diary?" and I giggle, 'cause Drags, he just don't know. He don't! Diary, ultimo-spy. ULTIMOOOOOOOOOOO

Drags, he hunts down so many stuffs. He says when he gets, too. Is all oranges, and chicken meat, and pie, and pecans, and weeds of that there winter, and turnip, and grass, and soil from ratties den, and piece of bark from glowy tree, and a bunch of Drags' HAIR. HAIR? Why you take off hair, Drags? Silly.

And then he takes, and he makes potion thinger in biiiiig kitchen where under sleeps cookmeister (poor cookmeister, no colour for you's anymore), and he's all put nice things in for flavour, and then he tries a bit, and BOY SPITS HE FAR. So far, diary, that we should think it is record. Big, best record of spitting.

"At least you tried it first," says BoobyBrowns. She dumps out window.

"You… ach… don't know that it wouldn't have worked…."

"Double negative. Let's fix it up. I know it was a vile o' bile. Try somethin' else, Dragomir, you can't give this crap to Eve."

So they tries again. And again. And again! 'n all times, reject by BoobyBrowns. So picky, is her. So, so picky. Maybe she know better 'cause she is all greens. Greens know sick stuff.

Night, diary. Is sleep. Long day, travel, is much. Tomorrow? New day! More travel! So fun. Yay, Drags, you take me 'round afteralltimes! Yays!

Sinceres,

Diary