Mission Log: Day 6

Twice now I have deployed additional blasts of weapons-grade pooponium after one of the large things has opened the containment unit, and still to no avail. They just declare "uh-oh, poopies" and punish me by removing it with cold "wipes". But I won't talk. Even if they keep this up, I won't talk for months. Through trial-and-error I have discovered the one they call "daddy" does not produce any nutritive fluids. Having sampled all ten of his fingers, and launched a surprise attack on his useless nipple, I have concluded that only the one called "mommy" serves this useful purpose. However, daddy's fingers do seem somewhat soothing when nibbled for extended periods of time. I must make further inquires along this line.