Robin: "Dear Diary. It is day four on this island, which the natives have dubbed "Long Island," perhaps referencing how each hour here feels like it may never end. So far, they have welcomed me and given me a rare glimpse into their bizarre way of life. By 'entertainment,' they mean table shuffle board, macramé classes, and other non-stimulating activities which are only used in Manhattan to calm down drug addicts and the criminally insane. A preliterate society, their menus display pictures of the food they offer, everyone is forced to sing 'Happy Birthday' four or five times a meal, and dessert has fireworks in it. In their lairs, they often don a primitive shroud called a 'Snugget,' and it is not uncommon for them to go to sleep before 9 p.m., fearing, as they do, the night. Also Diary, I think writing in you is stupid, but you were a gift from Lily, and she's watching me right now."