"29 - Greetings this is Olimar… again. It is the twenty-ninth anniversary of the crash to this unnamed planet. Just one more day until my supply of air runs out. I need only a single component of my ship and I can leave, and then I am able to say I survived. I recently found out that the Pikmin are acting worried, perhaps they know I'll either leave or… End of Log 29"

I read last nights log. I still can't find the last part. Checking my tank I find that I only have a few minutes to live. As I sat in this captain's chair I begin to write a new log.

"30 - Greetings, Olimar here for the last time. I am attempting to leave this planet. Surely it will work? No, it wouldn't… I'm only trying to keep up my mood. If you find this, in my ship's rubble. I'm certainly dead. End of Log 30"

Okay, I'm firing up the engines. I see my screen on the ship. "ERROR ERROR ERROR" it reads I cannot believe it! Why didn't it work! I think I'm going to cra-

All I see is red, I can tell I'm suffocating. Weird suckery things are touching me. I'm starting to pass out again. Maybe I'll see my mother again. I hope my landlord will be nice to my family and won't evict them. I hope My Wife won't feel too miserable. Okay, my vision is going black…

I can't see and I feel weird. Am I buried, did the Pikmin bury me? This isn't the afterlife I expected! I'm obviously dead… It feels like I'm on heavy anesthetics. I can barely remember things. I also feel like I'm being tugged and now I'm coming out of the ground? Ugh I feel sick. My vision is blurry, but I swear I can see pikmin, maybe they are the pikmin that were killed by the bulborbs while trying to protect me. I feel absolutly terrible. I think I'm passing out again…

"31 - Olimar, I think. I… I died, well, sort of. I died, physically, my heart stopped beating. When I passed out I also wasn't conscious so you could say my brain 'died.' Now onto how I'm writing this. The pikmin took me into their onion. How do I know that you might ask? Well… you could say I'm a pikmin now. I feel like me but I cant really remember too many things from before, probably because my brain started to decay. They communicate through smells, which I can understand, probably from insticts the onion inplanted into me. None of them know their natural life spans so, hopefully they are like most plants, long living. I don't know if I can ever go home, probably not. At least I dont need to eat or even breath. This "leaf" on my head does that job for me. This was Olimar, I think. Sorry this log was long. End of log 31