Ray Mears - My Fake Diary

Tuesday, 19 February 2008

"Pat - where are ya?"

No answer.

I looked inside the aeroplane and there was no sign of him. I looked outside and found two furrows in the snow and some blood. It could only mean one thing - the Polar Bear's mates must have smelled the roast penguins we had the other night and come round to investigate,

Poor Pat, who ate twice as many as me, must have stank with them and I guess they dragged him off as an apertizer.

"Me next." I thought.

I was tired and lay down to sleep and didn't care if I woke up or not.