Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah

Hand-written Journal Entry

Hello muddah, hello faddah
Here I am at Camp Granada
Not much chance for recreation
Since our mansion has burned down to its foundation.

We went fleeing in our skivvies
Now we're out here digging privies
We'll remember B.F. Skinner
As we're eating weeds and roadkill stew for dinner.

Well I guess our doom is slated
Since the lake's contaminated
Men of science want us working
It's the stocks for anyone discovered shirking...

What? Surely you weren't expecting me to pour my heart out, not without at least a toy padlock to protect my girlish hopes and dreams. But no, not so much as a little brass key to dangle from my charm bracelet. Momma warned me about boys like you.