I have an orange.

My orange.

It's mine so you can't have it.

I don't care if you have scurvy.

Oh, you know what,

No.

You can have the apples,

My orange.

Good eat those apples,

The witch cursed them.

I'm not gonna help you, I care as much as America did before Pearl Harbor.

What?

The apples tell you my orange is the cure.

Here you go.

To slow, hahaha.

Ah, ok, I'll leave you to your business.

Bye.

(No don't leave I need the orange, NO! Kid wait. Give me the orange! *Turns into a gollum-like creature* -my my PRECIOUS!)