[ WP ] Years after a nuclear war which destroyed nations and landscapes , a man departs from a ship after crossing from England to America to document mutated and dangerous wildlife . ( Comedic )

Field Diary of Dr. James Bancroft 
 
 **Date: ** 12th of March, 2284 
 
 **Location: ** Sewers of New York City 
 
 When I set out on this journey, I was wholly unsure of what I would find. Mayhaps there was some remnant of American society that survived the destruction. Perhaps there were would be evidence of the local ecosystem recovering from the fallout. Or, the Holy Grail for field researchers: cattle that have developed a resistance to radioactivity. 
 
 I sojourned into the sewers under the assumption that maybe it provided some degree of protection when the bombs fell. Miraculously, the lights were still operational. 
 
 My theories were proved correct. Curious mushrooms and other vegetation had grown unchecked in the gloom and moisture. They gave off a heady, intoxicating aroma. After collecting a few samples, I decided to cover my face and venture deeper in. 
 
 After a certain point, the lights became more uncertain, and were prone to flickering. The only sounds were my footsteps, and the occasional crackle of electricity and water dripping. Empty pizza boxes littered the floor. 
 
 I stopped to examine a peculiarly large spore, and for half a second, I heard footsteps. My heart leaped into my throat. I spun around, my hand going to my machete, but there was nothing but shadows behind me. 
 
 I slowly turned around, and noticed something skitter behind a pile of debris. The rasp of my machete being drawn from its scabbard seemed deafening. I meekly inched forward. `` Who goes?'' I called out. 
 
 No answer. 
 
 With shaking hands, I probed the pile of garbage with the end of my weapon. A rusty can rolled down the hill, and out popped a rat the size of a bread loaf. It squeaked, and scurried between my legs. I breathed a sigh of relief, and watched it scamper away. 
 
 When I turned, I found myself face-to-face with what I can only describe as a monstrous turtle. It was the size of a man, and stood like one. It wore an orange sock with holes cut out for its blood-shot eyes. 
 
 `` Cowabunga, dude,'' it said. 

