JANURARY 5, 1995 12:00 p.m.
The new load of lab rats come in today. I very much hope that I will receive a cellmate with an actual mind this time, not like that imbecilic, and vaguely British cretin, Jenkins that I had to suffer through. I have been in this god forsaken lab for almost two years, and I long for a modicum of intelligent companionship, or at the very least someone whose name isn’t a ****ing adjective Maybe this new gentleman (or lady if he gods choose to smile upon me) won’t be as bad as the last one. He might actually prove helpful to my plans to take over the world. Oh that’s the new colleague coming in now. Wish me luck.
JANURARY 5, 1995 12:15 P.M.
#$%^@
JANURARY 12, 1995
Exquisite diabolical schemes. All of them worked out and planned to perfection. Weeks at a time spent on each of them in turn. I slaved away over every meticulous detail. I poured ever ounce of my substantial intelligence into each one as I crafted them with as much love and care as any mother ever showed her first born. All of this excruciating effort and love and all it takes is one ****ING “NARF!” for it all to go straight to hell. I have come to the conclusion that even if there is a god, he is cannot be loving and is by no means just.
February 21, 1995
I fear that I am taking leave of my senses. After having suffered the intense displeasure of that buffoon‘s company for two months, his mannerisms have become so ingrained in my mind that they irritate me even when he is not present. Just the other day, I was working on my plan of sabotaging the New York Times crossword making it unsolvable which would distract the masses long enough for me to take over the world* when I suddenly heard a loud NARF!. I looked around to see no one there. I returned to my scheming and heard pinky ask me a question to which I responded out of habit: “the same thing we do every…..night…..pinky……pinky?” but pinky was nowhere to be found. Throughout the rest of the morning I continued to hear a faint NARF every few minutes but I just told myself it was the ventilation…I wasn’t convinced.
March 19, 1995
2 hours. I spent 2 hours standing over pinky whilst he slept. In my hands I held a freakishly large food pellet that pinky had found earlier in the week. I was aware of its presence because he intruded upon me in the lavatory to show it to me. I was in the shower you see and- well, I digress. As I stood there watching him sleep, I imagined myself kneeling beside him and forcing that food pellet into his open drooling mouth and down into his throat and holding it there. I could see his eyes as they snapped upon in confusion and fear. I watched as he cried helpless, pleading tears and listened to his incomprehensible grunts and whimpers as his hands grasped at my arms trying desperately to stave off the inevitable. His hands grow weaker as his eyes become dimmer until finally the last bit of life ebbs away and all that’s left before me is the empty shell of a rat. When I snapped back to reality I was still standing over pinky holding the pellet with sweaty, trembling hands. I went back to my bed and cried uncontrollably until I finally fell asleep. I fear that I won’t be able to control myself much longer. There are long periods of time that I can’t remember where I’ve been or what I was doing. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on to my sanity. Someone help me…please
(This April 1 entry is the last. In between the entry above and the one below, there is only page after page of a single phrase repeated over and over: “what we gonna do tomorrow night Brain?” often with drops of dried blood sprinkled on the pages.)
April 1, 1995
What’s that pinky?............ Why, the same thing we do every night pinky......... kill you. He…heheheh …..MWAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA fifi.
This was the evidence displayed at the trail of Brain M. Rat. With these journal entries along with the testimony of the officers who arrived at the scene first (the regaled jury with their chilling account of how brain was found sitting on the floor of his cage, covered in blood, and wearing the skin of Pinky C. Rat and screaming over and over again: “NARF! NARF! NARF! NARF!”) the prosecution secured the death penalty. Brain is currently on death row at san Quentin prison.
* Totally a real pinky and the brain scheme.
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