Still Day 10

9:07 AM – Breakfast FINALLY delivered. Along with tour. Poo. Anyways, it's same slop as yesterday. (And I actually mean "the same slop as yesterday"; it's gotten a bit stale and I think there are some flies swimming in it.) Trying to think of ways I can decrease the tours enjoyment factor.

9:10 AM – People seem to be ecstatic with the fact that I'm chugging down my gruel like nobody's business. (How else am I going to get it down without gagging?) Wait, I think I feel a thought coming on.

9:12 AM – Am eating breakfast all prissy like by sipping it daintily from bowl. Tour beginning to complaint.

9:13 AM – While method has worked, I don't think I'm going to keep it up much more without throwing my guts up. Bits of insects slowly flowing down ones throat is quite a sickening feeling. Even for me!

9:20 AM – Have once again successfully put tour running for a mere 20 minutes. Norrington has postponed next tour until 12. Anyways, they have left now, thank God! Icky, icky, icky gruel!

9:21 AM – Have polished off gruel.

9:24 AM – What do you want! I'm starving here!

9:45 AM – Hey, dog's come back for another game of chase the tail. (No collar today; suppose he got tired of prey knowing he's approaching) Have decided to name him Barnaby, as it might seem awkward if I keep calling him "dog". Come here, Barnaby. I have some delicious dregs of gruel for you.

9:47 AM – Oh…my…bloody…God. Why do I even bother? Every time I to start anything with this dog, I end up insulting it! I went to give "Barnaby" the last of my bloody gruel and guess who comes sauntering out from behind "him"? A titchy little furball, who happens to look exactly like "Barnaby"! Just what I need. I've confused the gender of one of my so-called connections!

9:50 AM – Puppy of Barbra (Shut up) is quite taken with my gruel. Has half its body actually in the bowl. Aw.

9:51 AM – I mean, Ew! Cuteness! Yuck!

9:57 AM – Oh geez. Pup has taken a liking to me. Has meandered into my cell and is staring at me with annoyingly huge eyes (Must be genetic). Anyway, seeing as there were no witnesses, gave him a pat on the head and put him back outside. Seemed to be what he was after, as they're both leaving now.

9:58 AM – Wait a second. Only Barbra's leaving! And the kid's coming back in! Oh no! No! I am not BABYSITTING mini mutt while mum takes a personal day! NO! NO! NO! NO!

10:17 AM – After much yelling and barking down the hallway, have given up on getting out of being puppy-sitter. Mini mutt having a grand old time playing hide and seek in my hat. Fan-bloody-tastic.

11:29 AM – M.M. (mini mutt) has finally figured out that my hat is not a playmate. It has now been christened a semi-lethal enemy. He keeps hopping around its diameter, stopping every 5 seconds to growl at it. There MUST be a better way to keep him amused.

12:04 PM – Lunch tour has arrived. Didn't notice them at first as I was distracted by M.M. Was having a bit of a game with him by holding a piece of straw just out of his reach. Snapped out of puppy-induced trance when I heard a bunch of women going "Awwww!"

12:08 PM – While I have not killed him yet, I am well on the way to morally destroying Norrington! YES! OK, so here's the story of my great triumph; after having a mad chuckle about the M.M. thing and handing over lunch, Norrington said, "Has the infamous Jack Sparrow gone soft?" Well, that was just OVER the line! Grabbed a handful of artificial peas and potatoes and threw it straight at his ugly mug! Took his wig clean off, it did! AHA! Unfortunately, Norrington got rather enraged and tried to stab me through the bars. But I was at the ready with my bedding! In 45 seconds, the entire tour was covered in straw, mud, and potatoes! BUAHAHAHA! REVENGE IS MINE!

12:15 PM – Realized after everyone, including Norrington, had run off screaming for cover, that I had actually used the entirety of my lunch as ammo. Damn. M.M. seems to think clawing his way into my lap will cheer me up. It isn't.

12:48 PM – Have decided to take nap and try to ignore the growling of my stomach. With any luck, Barbra will have picked up M.M. by the time I wake up.

1:13 PM – Jolted awake by horrid dream that Norrington was pouring mashed potatoes into my ear.

1:14 PM – Hardly; turns out M.M. was lying on the side of my head, having a bit of a snooze. Little git thinks my hair is some sort of nest.

1:27 PM – Stroke of good fortune. In his haste to run off like a pansy, Norrington has left his wig lying on the ground. Perhaps M.M. will prefer an unconvincing hair piece instead of my head.

1:31 PM – Was able to get a hold of wig by sticking leg through the bars and sliding it across the floor.

1:33 PM – HAHAHAHAHAHA! This is just too much! Norrington's mum has sewn his name in the hem of his wig! HAHAHAHAHA! Oh God! I think my appendix is going! HAHAHA!

1:46 PM – After laughing fit and the stitch in my side had let up, found that M.M. had dived into the straw pile. Sudden peals of laughter must have come as a shock. Anyway, fished him out and put him in his new bed. Still some potatoes sticking to it, but I don't think he minds much.

1:50 PM – M.M. seems to find wig-bed satisfactory. Quite adorable, really; all curled up inside. Plus, it looks way better on him that it does on Norrington.

2:04 PM – Apparently, Norrington was going to schedule an extra tour before 5 today, but due to my little episode at lunch, he has decided otherwise. Came in to inform me of this, apparently thinking I would care, and practically had a stroke when he saw what I'd done with his wig. Honestly! He's wearing another one just like it! I hardly think it matters if he has a spare!

2:09 PM – Asked Norrington what the big bloody deal was. Added that I figured he wouldn't want it now that the potatoes have probably set in permanently. He went beet red and said it was a rather personal item that he doesn't make a habit out of showing everyone. What the bloody hell is he going on about?

2:12 PM – Ahhhhh. I understand now! Norrington's embarrassed that his mum personalizes his wigs. HA! Let the exploitation begin!

2:16 PM – Said to Norrington, "Well, Nory, if it means that much to you, of course you can have it back. Wouldn't want your mum's fine needlework going to waste." I swear; steam came out of his ears! Started hopping about in his little boots, yelling about how it's none of my business what's in his wigs and I shouldn't be staging an examination on his private effects. Told him there was no problem there because I shudder to think what he's hiding in his current one. He stood there trying to look dignified for a moment then huffed off. All Nory's yelling has woken M.M. How rude!

2:20 PM – Oh dear. Seems M.M. has taken a leak in Old Nory's wig. Well, at least there's something interesting in this one now.

2:43 PM – Just realized that I'm still STARVING due to lack of lunch. Distracting myself by playing "chase the tail" game with M.M. Not quite as effective as with Barbra, as his tail's so tiny, half the time he doesn't even notice it.

3:35 PM – When it actually got through to him that a tail was present, M.M. kept up the chase for about 27 minutes before tripping over his own feet. Damn him for being so cute. I think I actually like him now!

4:00 PM – Barbra has come back. Apparently she is finished with her "me time". Anyway, she's not so bad. At least had the decency to bring some payment for my services. (God knows, after 6 hours with the runt, I deserve some!) Wages turned out to be a small box containing a lump of cheese and some jerky of unknown meat. PRAISE A DOG'S ONE TRACK MIND FOR FOOD! Was completely amazed that the cheese wasn't even moldy. (Come to think of it, I was also amazed to how she got the food all neatly into a box…Or where she even got the box in the first place…) Anyways, despite rather satisfying payment, was very sad to see M.M. go, as will no longer have anyone to keep me company. Little bugger also filled with deep sorrow, as he tried to crawl back into my lap. (Though, that also could have been because he smelled the jerky, but I'm going with the forerunner) In the end, he went off with Barbra, dragging his new bed along, which I gave him as a parting gift. Am distracting myself from the aching pains of loneliness by tucking in to my wages.

4:17 PM – Damn, this stuff is good! Jerky's a little on the smoky side, but other than that, this payment is much better than the other food they've been giving me. Though I am baffled as to why there's a piece of tape with "Frank" written on it stick on the lid of the box.

4:36 PM – I am baffled no more. Guard came barging into my cell, demanding to know how I'd gotten his lunch box. I knew Barbra was still out to get me for that gender confusion thing, the bloody wench!

4:42 PM – Guard not to happy with my "The dog gave me the box in exchange for puppy-sitting" story. Nor with the fact that I had actually eaten all the food already. Gave him back his box and he stormed off. Honestly; if you don't want a dog stealing you're lunch, you should have the sense to keep it somewhere out of reach! And for that matter, you should eat it at LUNCHtime, like everyone else in the world, NOT 4:45!

4:57 PM – Quite annoying getting blamed for something I didn't even do. I mean, it's one thing if I had actually stolen the lunch box! THAT would have made sense! God, I can't wait to die.