Friday, March 13th
Dear diary,
I've been stranded on this island for a few weeks now, and I've really managed to make something of it. To be clear, I haven't had much of a choice. I was flown to a deserted island with a monkey and a deer without much of an explanation. Then this raccoon handed me a tent and a phone. He told me to pitch up, gave me all these commands, and explained that I owed him a lot of money.
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I briefly wondered if I'd been imprisoned in some sort of island labour camp... but everybody seems content to let me do my own thing. I've gone fishing, picked fruit, and even earned enough Bells (that's their currency) to pay off the raccoon, who rewarded me by turning my tent into an actual home.
Over the last few days, a few more animals have come to the town. It's turned into quite a nice community, actually. We've got shops, a museum - even a town hall. A lot of this stuff just appeared overnight. I suspect the raccoon has serious connections, but I daren't ask.
Anyway, I figured I'd start this diary because it's clear I'm not going anywhere. I mean, we have an airport and I tried to get a flight home, but the dodo who runs it just looked at me and frantically flapped his wings. Was it a warning? A threat? I just don't know.
Saturday, March 14th
I'd say that I was glad it was the weekend, diary... but all the days seem to blur into one around here.
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That's no bad thing. This island is called Beevington, by the way. I suggested it as a joke on the day we arrived and all the animals applauded and called me a genius so... I guess that was that.
I'm still not sure on the legalities of living on this island? Do we even have a right to be here? Are we an independent nation? Are we part of some empire the raccoon is building? Again, I'm too scared to ask.
Instead of getting hung up on such questions, I decided to spend my Saturday walking along the beach, fishing and digging for clams. I bumped into Ozzie, a friendly koala who moved in shortly after I did. We spoke for a while and then - this is where it gets kind of weird - he just... gave me his shirt. He asked me if I thought it was nice, but I never expected that telling him I liked it would result in him handing it over to me, there and then.
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As if that wasn't weird enough, I handed it back to him and he gave me money. He paid me 656 Bells for his own shirt. I don't know what's real anymore.
Sunday, March 15th
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Sunday was a bit of a boring one to be honest, diary.
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I walked around town for a little while and chatted with the villagers. Ozzie was wearing the shirt I sold back to him the day before, so that was kind of awkward.
While the rest of the day was uneventful, I did meet a little pig wearing a basket of turnips on her head. She talked to me for ages about the fluctuating value of turnips and something called the stalk market, but I was super distracted by the line of snot dangling from her nose so I didn't really pay attention.
In the end I was too polite to tell her to leave me alone so I handed over some money and she gave me a bunch of turnips. Now I'm just walking around with some old veg in my pocket that I don't know what to do with.
Monday, March 16th
I'm starting to get a little irritated with my fellow villagers, diary.
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That bloody raccoon - who has since hired a much nicer little dog to handle most of the day-to-day stuff - always goes on about how we should work to develop the island into a thriving town. Except... I'm the only one doing all the work.
I spent at least an hour today laying down flowers and new paths between all the houses and shops. Do you know what the rest of the island did? Nothing. Rowan and Claudia, two tigers, literally just watched me doing the back-breaking work while they sipped cocktails outside the town hall. Outrageous.
I also caught Ozzie doing lunges across the river but I can't stay mad at him because he's definitely my favourite. Plus I still feel kind of bad about the whole shirt thing.
Tuesday, March 17th
It rained today, diary, but I don't mind.
Beevington is a pretty nice place, rain or shine, so I was happy to potter about and check in with everybody. I went to visit Nana (a monkey, not my actual grandmother) and discovered she wasn't feeling very well.
Obviously I ran to the shop immediately to pick up some medicine (400 Bells!) and she bounced back pretty quickly. I tried to ask the raccoon why we can't invest in some kind of publicly accessible health service, and there was a weird glint in his eye. Another leader in the pocket of big pharma, no doubt.
Oh, and I paid off this bridge construction project the entire town had been working towards. I say the entire town -, it ended up just being me. Over 200,000 Bells we were supposed to raise as a community, and it all came out of my pocket. I'm beginning to suspect I'm being taken for a ride.
Wednesday, March 18th
You know something, diary?
If I'm being taken for a ride, it's nothing to do with the villagers. I spent all day picking fruit to sell, and I made a cool 100,000 for what amounted to about 20 minutes work. And the fruit all grows back in another three days! I'm not sure how that works, but I'm terribly glad it does.
As if that wasn't strange enough, some of the trees drop actual furniture or money when you shake them. I found a writing desk and a tea table in two different trees today. I stuck the writing desk in my living room, and the tea table looks great in my kitchen.
What I don't understand is why nobody else on the island is getting in on this? The two smaller raccoons that run the shop are giving me around 500 Bells per peach, which is ridiculous. Why am I the only one picking the fruit? Does nobody else know how?
Then again, maybe there's a chance the fruit doesn't actually have any value and the animals are just humouring me. The shopkeepers did buy some weeds and an old tyre from me yesterday -... am I trapped in some sort of social experiment?
Thursday, March 19th,
I'm starting to suspect that I'm here solely to look after these dumbass villagers, diary.
Today I had to mediate an argument between Ozzie and Rowan. Ozzie was of the opinion that anyone who says they have a problem with pineapple on pizza is just saying that because they've heard other people say it, while Rowan insisted he genuinely thinks it's a dumb topping.
Honestly? I was on Ozzie's side, but I had to play it safe and make sure they both felt like they had good points. Despite my best efforts, however, both ended up storming off in a strop. The good news is that it wasn't long before they'd forgotten about it. I caught them singing together under the stars, and Ozzie handed me a new coat. I didn't try to sell it back to him. I love Ozzie.
I spent the rest of my night at the airport sending letters to the villagers. I don't really get why there's a postal service here - we all live a few metres away from one another - but the animals really like getting letters. Who am I to deny them such a simple pleasure?
Friday, March 20th
It's been an odd sort of week, diary.
I spent my Friday doing the usual stuff. I worked hard, sold some fish, and generally tried to improve island life for a bunch of animals that offer zero support. Except for Ozzie, obviously, who's been nothing but a friend and confidant these last few days... even if he does keep falling asleep under trees at night when I'm in the middle of talking to him.
You'll be glad to know I finally saved up enough to pay off my latest home loan though, so that's brilliant. I sold a few fossils and discovered that it's possible to grow actual money trees on this weird-ass island, so the next few days should be interesting. Needless to say, it was a great pay day for me.
Anyway, I marched right over to that raccoon and handed over the half a million Bells I owed him. I don't really know what I expected from the fiend. I thought maybe he'd... let me go? Maybe he'd finally hand me a ticket home? Obviously not. He simply pressured me into ordering another expansion. So the good news is that when I wake up in the morning I'll have a new room that I'm thinking of turning into a library. The bad news is that I now owe the raccoon 700,000 Bells, and it's become clearer than ever that I'm never going home.
But you know what, diary? I don't think I mind. I've got it good here, and the loan has a 0% interest rate, which is remarkable in this economy. I can fish, build, and hang out with Ozzie whenever I want. Who needs reality?
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