*The page starts with an assortment of random notes, like a to-do list*
Attempted contact. Now we wait.
Get quieter.
Procure stronger extracts.
*Then follows the days' thoughts on thoughts*
I can't believe that the Fatman is sneakier than I am. I must be slacking. I need to make contact and get some proper tutelage. Sneaking up on dinner is one thing, but sneaking up on a man is an entirely different beast. I'm sorry, love. I'm trying, but these humans are quicker, quieter, and deadlier than I can hope to be. Who knows? Moander willing, maybe I'll succeed. If not, then at least I'll see you again, yeah?