[Entry: #3]

Up! Up! Up! Rise and shine and wipe the nuclear dust from your eyes! It's the break of dawn, and you know what that means…morning announcements! Doesn't mean very much over here, seeing how if you listen in often, you'd know that I don't punch out until someone physically punches me out. We can thank our brothers in steel for that courtesy—haha!

Let's see here, what've we got on today's agenda…duh duh duh…aha! You're never gonna believe this, children, and I'm not asking you to. From where I'm sitting, this sounds about as cracked as cracked can get, but I'm gonna tell you anyway. Because we don't keep secrets in this family, kiddies.

Hasn't been very long at all since we last heard from Canterbury Commons, but here we are again! Apparently, some robo-mechanic over there just lost himself a damn fine robot. Now, of course, this is nothing new. Those pre-war gadgets always tend to disappoint in terms of lifespan, but that's not what's weird about this particular "mechanical failure."

Rumor has it—and I can't stress that enough—that this mechanic's robot was destroyed, torn limb from limb, by…giant ants. Yeah, those terrible pests that you find in the dust fields picking away at the dead crops. They decided that they've developed a taste for expensive robotics, which drove our mechanic all kinds of crazy.

But! Hold on to your seats, children, because it gets stranger from here. Obviously, the giant ass ants that we know all too well would never just attack at random, since they're one of the few things in Post-Apocalyptia that we can actually predict and avoid. No, the only reason they would ever attack anything that wasn't near their hive is if they were provoked. And provoked they were…by a slim little number wearing nothing but lipstick and a uniform modeled after the ants she led.

How is this possible? I can hear you asking that from here, but rest assured that these are only rumors. No confirmation on whether or not a spandex-wearing psychobitch leading an army of ants in tow is actually, factually true. We'll all just have to accept that something happened to put this report on my desk, leave it at that, and have us a splendid morning.

Treat yourself to a sunrise, on me. But try not to catch the sunset—we all know what goes bump in the night.