Space Journal - Day 3

It has been a day of much commotion. A strange man with appalling etiquette has fallen from the sky in a most peculiar craft, and he has the nerve to appear in good company without a tail. It was all I could do to remain conscious, for I fear my constitution took a most dreadful knock from his offensive demeanour. He also made peculiar references to Lady Garrington's magnificent crystal jugs, which I can only begin to describe as masking thoughts of the most base and beastly nature.

He is also a frightful embarrassment to our guests, even refusing to accompany us on our outing to mock the poor. And so we convened in order to decide a correct course of action to undertake in order to avert further embarrassment. Thus we have come to the decision to discreetly do away with him, lest my constitution waver once more. The indelicate task shall be carried out by Papa in the evening so we may be rid of the interloper forthwith.

Bloody hell. I shouldn't have left this diary in such an open place, but I did not realise how stupid the natives are to write in it. I mustn't stay writing, I've got to escape immediately!