**Field Notes of Dr. Petunia Spratt, Ph.D (Possibly in Over Her Head)**

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Subject: The Island of Blibberton

Objective: To scientifically document the unique ecosystem, social structures, and potential existential threats posed by its inhabitants.

Funded by: The Highly Questionable Adventures Grant (who apparently didn’t read my last disastrous application closely).

**Day 1: Arrival (and Immediate Regret)**

9:02 A.M.

Landed on the shores of Blibberton after a bumpy seaplane ride with a pilot who smelled of sardines and fear.

Upon stepping off the floatplane, immediately tripped over a large coconut crab, who gave me a disdainful look before skittering off. I may have apologized. Unclear. Jet lag does things.

Island temperature is approximately way too hot for a human with thighs, humidity at “feel your skin slither off” levels.

Local guide, a man named Tupa, greeted me by placing a garland of what I think were tiny pickled squid around my neck. I refrained from asking questions.

**Day 2: The Fruit That Screams**

11:48 A.M.

First research expedition into the interior of the island.

Tupa pointed out a tree he called The Wailing Fig. It produces large, bright orange fruits that—upon being picked—emit a shrill squeal not unlike a toddler denied ice cream.

Collected one specimen. It screamed continuously for 37 minutes before falling silent. Now smells faintly of bacon.

Considering publishing in Nature under “Plant Sentience or Unholy Fruit Trauma?”

Filed under: P.T.S.D. (Plant Traumatic Squeal Disorder).

**Day 3: The Locals’ Rituals (???)**

3:14 P.M.

Witnessed villagers participating in something they called the Festival of Disappointment.

Involves wearing oversized hats shaped like failed career choices (accountant, mime, regional hotdog influencer) and dancing in circles around a giant effigy of a shrugging man.

Asked Tupa about the meaning. He shrugged.

Noted: Possible shared cultural nihilism, or they’re just deeply committed to ironic performance art.

**Day 4: The Laughter Lizards**

1:07 P.M.

Set up camp near a rocky outcrop. Observed small reptiles with dazzling blue stripes that emitted a sound eerily like laughter. Every time I stepped near, they let out a series of snorts, then scampered off.

Tupa says they’re called “Ha-ha Skinks.”

He then tried to sell me one for “only three sticks of gum or one small regret.”

Declined, though did consider offering up my 7th grade clarinet recital as a regret to trade.

**Day 5: Attempted Formal Interview**

10:45 A.M.

Tried to formally interview village elder, a woman named Yoba, who was wearing a crown of dried fish tails.

She responded to every question with an interpretive dance that involved suspicious pelvic thrusting.

Sample transcript:

Me: “How long has your community lived here?”

Yoba: (points to sun, slaps own knees, twerks gently)

Me: “Does your tribe have oral histories about migration?”

Yoba: (pretends to eat an invisible burrito, then winks)

Filed under: “Cultural communication barriers / accidental foreplay?”

****

**Day 6: Night Terrors (Possibly Self-Induced)**

2:39 A.M.

Awoke to rustling outside my hut. Assumed it was Tupa drunk on fermented pineapple (common occurrence).

Peeked outside to find several large birds wearing tiny capes. They strutted around my camp, then gathered in a circle to apparently judge me.

One knocked over my lantern. The rest scattered, shrieking like theater critics unimpressed by a community Shakespeare production.

Filed under: “Avian elitism, species uncertain.”

**Day 7: Notes on Diet (Mine and Theirs)**

12:12 P.M.

Have been subsisting largely on roasted root vegetables and small pastries Tupa insists are “safe.”

Discovered today the pastries are made with local ZeeZee Berry, which causes mild hallucinations. Spent two hours chatting with a stick I believed to be my Aunt Maureen.

Meanwhile, villagers roasted something that looked suspiciously like an inflatable pool toy but turned out to be a local giant slug. Said it “tastes like Monday morning depression.”

Respectfully declined.

**Day 8: Discovery of The Giggling Pits******

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4:50 P.M.

Tupa led me to a series of shallow pits in the ground that emitted constant giggling. When I peered in, saw nothing but a faint purple mist.

Tupa: “The spirits like to tell jokes here.”

Me: “What kind of jokes?”

Tupa: “Why do you think we don’t build houses nearby? Too many dad jokes at 2 A.M.”

Decided to move my camp upwind.

**Day 9: Further Social Studies**

11:08 A.M.

Tried again to conduct a structured survey on local customs.

Villagers agreed only if I wore “the hat of knowledge,” which turned out to be a small woven basket containing a live crab.

Crab kept reaching down to pinch my ear every time I asked a question.

Statistically questionable results:

87% of villagers believe dreams are caused by tiny invisible goats licking your forehead.

12% believe dreams are you licking goats’ foreheads.

1% just like goats.

Filed under: “Local epistemology: questionable but charming.”

**Day 10: Courtship Rituals (Oh God Why)**

7:07 P.M.

Observed a courtship ceremony wherein hopeful suitors painted their elbows bright green and challenged each other to a dance-off.

Winner gets to present a gift—usually a pretty stone, occasionally a confused chicken—to the intended partner.

Had to sit down when one particularly enthusiastic contestant tried to gift me a very startled lizard. Politely refused by pretending to faint.

Tupa later told me this was wise: “Green elbows? You’d never escape his mother.”

**Day 11: Bioluminescent Nonsense**

9:03 P.M.

Took a night hike. Discovered that local moss is bioluminescent and glows bright teal when touched. Also discovered it giggles when poked repeatedly. (Yes, I tested this thoroughly.)

Collected samples for lab analysis. Or for future lonely parties when I want something that laughs at my jokes.

**Day 12: Existential Philosophy Hour with Tupa**

2:22 P.M.

Tupa and I sat under a large Grumble Tree (named for the low farting noise its flowers make—science is glamorous).

Asked Tupa if he ever wanted to leave the island.

He shrugged. “Why? We have dancing, food that makes you see your dead relatives playing poker, and trees that keep things lively.”

He patted the Grumble Tree, which promptly let out a squeaky toot.

Decided he may be the happiest person I’ve ever met.

**Day 13: The Legendary Blibberbeast (Total Dud)**

6:16 P.M.

Finally caught sight of the famed Blibberbeast, which villagers claim is the island’s mysterious guardian spirit.

Turns out it’s a large, hairy goat that wears a crown of seaweed and wanders around knocking over baskets.

Tupa: “We respect him. He’s seen some things.”

Filed under: “Respectful local delusions.”

Also under: “Would probably make a terrible life coach.”

**Day 14: Attempted Return to Sanity**

8:08 A.M.

Tried to draft my first academic paper.

Title ideas included:

“Island Biota and the Persistence of Hilarity: A Cautionary Tale”

“Why That Moss Won’t Stop Laughing at Me”

“How I Nearly Married a Man With Green Elbows”

Abandoned draft. Wrote a poem to Gerald the coconut crab instead.

**Day 15: The Closing Ceremony******

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9:00 P.M.

Villagers threw a farewell celebration.

They wore hats shaped like moons, danced around a bonfire, and gave me a small rock they insisted was “full of grateful spirits.”

It vibrates slightly and occasionally hums Celine Dion.

Tupa hugged me goodbye. “Come back anytime. Bring more regrets. They’re good currency.”

**Day 16: Final Analysis******

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Back on the seaplane, leaving Blibberton behind.

Looking through my notes, I realized this wasn’t so much a scientific expedition as an absurdist play, with me as the bumbling protagonist.

Conclusion:

The island ecosystem is a spectacular circus of improbable biology.

The villagers are delightfully weird and possibly onto a higher form of joy.

Tupa is a philosopher hiding behind coconut moonshine.

And me? I’ve discovered that perhaps the truest scientific breakthroughs come not from beakers and charts, but from dancing with green-elbowed strangers and poking giggly moss at midnight.

(End of Dr. Spratt’s Official Field Notes. Unofficially? She’s already looking up the next grant that will let her return.)