Crashed Landing

Captain Hazzard’s Log 1: “We have crashed on a remote planet…surrounded by thick, musty air and complete total darkness (ellipsis). I, Captain Hazzard the Great (epithet), must take care of my frightened crew. This wasteland is ominous. The ground around us seems hungry and thirsty for our very souls (figurative language). My medic has been frightened ever since the crash. He’s (contraction) been screaming, “We are all going to die,” a generalization I do not want to be a part of. To calm him down, I told him “everything will be ok,” but the irony is, we are far from it.

Captain Hazzard’s Log 2: “We can’t sit around any longer. We are heading to the hills (which are frightening) straight ahead (parenthesis) to gain higher ground and to look for a way out. I asked our field expert to give us data on the path towards the hills. She said we had a 6 miles of walking, along with the temperature, 23 Celsius, and oxygen levels, which are healthy. I began editing her work and checking over to see if all of her facts were trustworthy and correct. I look over her work because as of late because we cannot trust this women, for she has perjured herself in the past (enthymeme). But for now, her facts checked out. We will start hiking at dawn.”

Captain Hazzard’s Log 3: “As we were walking towards the hills, I made an inference by looking at my first lieutenant, he seemed ill. We sat him down and asked what was wrong. He proclaimed that his breathing was failing. Soon after, he passed away (euphemism). His bodied turned zombie like. As we were leaving, I swore he had woken up, but I dismissed the thought, only thinking it was my mind playing tricks.  I will miss him, his repertoire contained a large amount of skills and experience that many of the other crew members didn’t have. The rest of the crew never liked him. They believed that he was talented, but only because his parents were rich enough to afford him higher-level schooling (paralipsis). After this blow, the crew was as dead as a door-nail (simile). We closed up shop, we had about 2 miles to go. But night began to fall. As the head of the group, I needed to keep the body going before it lost hope (synecdoche).

Captain Hazzard’s Log 4: “What is a hill? A hill is ‘a naturally raised area of land, not as high or craggy as a mountain (denotation).’ Well, in my opinion, the hill was hell (metaphor). Climbing that humungous pile of rock took the life out of me, but when we reached the top. Our hopes flew away as fast as bee (hyperbole). We looked over the ridge and there was nothing but plans. My crew became hysterical. The buffoonery they part took in to cope was sheer madness. And much like my first lieutenant, they began to pass out. First my medic, then my field expert. I am alone. I will continue to walk across these plains in order to find hope, but the battery on my log book is running low. So this will be the last you hear of me. I am heading to what I believe is north. Bona Ventura.

Captain Hazzard’s Log 5: “…… (zombie roar)”