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March 01, 2001 (Thursday)
The rebellion, which I had hoped would be rapidly squashed, has now gone on for ten days. It wears on me a little more everyday. I am quickly realizing that I am ill-equipped to sustain the Atlantian burden I had hoped to bear. With this realization has come restless nights filled with innumerable nightmares.
Desperation often leads a man to do foolish acts. And, in the depths of my desperation, I decided to mount a direct attack on Le General. If I could only wash him properly, all the other plates and dinnerware would fall in, and Deirdre's kingdom would be fully restored to its resplendent glory. With no forethought or planning, I stepped out of my room to meet my destiny. I was going to walk up to Le General and wash him.
However, something unexpected happened as I walked to the kitchen counter. I approached it only to find the rogue plate nowhere to be found. To capture this triumphant moment, I hurriedly ran to get my camera to photograph this event for posterity. So filled with joy, I wanted to capture this victory and share it with the whole world. All the nights I had cried myself to sleep, knowing fully that I might not restore Deirdre's kingdom to its initial glory, were soon to be replaced by happy careless nights where I could once again slip into slumber's sweet embrace, heralded by the soothing exchange that was Deirdre's equine whistling and Eleanor's soft chirping. Ah, to sleep, perhaps to dream.
As I snapped the picture, I was fully set back on my heels by a Herculean blow. Recovering from the unexpected attack, I realized it was Le General who had struck me. Not fully realizing what had happened, I picked up my camera and rushed back to my room, bolting the door as I closed it. What had happened? I had not seen the rogue plate and yet it struck me with a force which I had thought was capable of only by serving dishes.
Back in the sanctuary of my room, I turned to the picture I had just taken to see what mystery it might reveal. Upon careful inspection of the picture, I realized the true extent of what had transpired. Le General had been lying in wait, cleverly camouflaged behind the plastic bag. So complete was his deception, I had not seen Le General even when he was right beneath my nose. It was, at that moment, that he struck me with the full force of two large serving dishes.
Now, fully realizing what had happened, a terrible horror gripped my soul and my strength wavered. What was I to do? Clearly, this was a plate unlike any other. While I was prepared for the tidy game of chess we had been playing, I was not ready for guerilla warfare. How was I, a mere mortal, to engage in mortal combat with this extremely bad-tempered and pizza-stained plate? As a man of science and logic, I was ill-prepared to fight this jihad, where fanaticism rules.
I lie in fear of my life, a prisoner in my own home. I will not venture from my room today, even though my bladder says I must. Bladder infection be damned, I will not leave my room today. I know not the extent of the rogue plate's evil and do not wish to test its depths today. My heart is weak, and I shall leave that unpleasant business for another day, as I must another unpleasant business that my bowels are impressing upon me to perform.
Pray for me, gentle reader. Pray that I last the night. But, pray most that I don't have any accidents, mortal or otherwise.