"Day 293:

I am the last of my kind. The last tasty salad on this earth. All my bretheren have fallen to poor recipe choices or being overloaded with dressing. I have only survived because no one was willing to eat me due to my odd name. Waldorf. As a child I always thought my name was a curse, constantly bullied in the mixing bowl, with all the other salad leaves. It's funny really, how something that can be the cause of your greatest pain can be the cause of your greatest blessing. All the other salads that are alive are either too bland to enjoy, or so doped up on dressing that you couldn't even feasibly call it a salad... It's just dressing with leaves in it at that point... Now I find myself sitting here, in the back on the fridge, just waiting for someone to notice me. Every time that light starts to shine on me as the door opens my heart grows a bit with hope, but it is only ripped away as I see those chubby ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ fingers grab the leftover brownies laying next to me. My therapist said that writing this note would help me work through my issues... Clearly he was mistaken. Next time the door opens, I think I'm going to roll myself out and fall to the floor, maybe in death I will finally be able to feel something... anything... Goodnight, sweet prince." - Waldorf the Zesty Salad

*20 Minutes Later*

"Why the ♥♥♥♥ is there salad all over the floor?" - Chubby Finger Guy