Day 6

Captain's log. This is the 27th day we've been out in the wilderness, alone save for the company of a few friendly looking birds that bite us playfully when we pass out along the trail. They're fairly ugly, noisy things but I've never been one to judge based on appearances.

The Gimp finally died of dysentery yesterday. I feel that sense of loss similar to the feeling one has after a very satisfactory defecation experience. I feel it should be mentioned also that I tried very hard to dissuade him from eating the 4 years-expired contents of the Chef Boyardi can which led to his untimely demise. "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't really stop a horse from drinking the deadly, bacteria-filled, festering lake water", my father used to say. Never knew how true it was until now.

Andrea is still missing, and I had all but given up hope when a wonderful thing happened. As I was writing the last entry of this log, a vision was granted to me. In my vision, a flying pig who identified himself as Rufus Waynewright III told me not all was lost and the great pork huntress would return to us.

He then handed me a dandelion and told me that if Tim could learn to love another and earn her love in return before the last petal fell, the spell would be broken. If not, he said, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. I, of course, nodded politely and thanked Rufus and showed him out the window which he had flown in from, immediately discarding the glowing little flower. I had no idea what the fellow had been rambling about, and he had obviously traveled a very long way. Everyone knows mystical travelers often lose track of who they're talking to.