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How creative. It's not like we've seen that a THOUSAND times before, is it? "Oh, what should I write today... I KNOW! That I'm bored!", isn't that how it normaly goes? You're one mean diary, Scribble. No, I'm not writing "bored" because I've got nothing better to write, it's just that... well... umm... ok, you got me there. Fine, so I'm not that creative today. Do YOU know anything I can write about? Your endless love for cookies? How do you know I like cookies then? No, wait, let me guess... Because you can read my mind? Some "batbook powers"? No, because of the rather large amount of cookie crumbles between my pages. You pig. Hey, a man has his needs! What would I live on if not cookies? Maybe get a girlfriend? To your information, I HAVE got a girlfriend! She probably feeds you cookies every day. Was that supposed to be an insult? If it was, it was a really bad one. Hey, I've been locked in a chest for over six billion years, you would expect my jokes to be a little dry, right? No, really, you're not funny. Stop. Now. Party pooper. Have you had enough letters now? Yes, you may leave. Promise me that you'll have something to write about tomorrow then. Sure. See ya, Scribble-O. Did you just make that up? Yes. Good bye.