She looked into her lovers eyes, tears pooling in her own. "What do you mean you have to go?" She whispered. The orange man looked up, his tiny hands sweating from being nervous. "I have to go home." He said simply. She nodded her head in understanding, while choking back a sob. She hugged him goodbye and walked him outside to watch him go. It was then that he began to sink into the ground. "Goodbye my dearest." He said as he slowly descended into hell where he belongs. She wiped away her tears and went inside. It would be a long time before she forgot her old, orange, wrinkled lover. She cried for exactly 69 hours. Finally, after being dehydrated from crying, she went into the kitchen. It was then that she spotted a moldy tangerine. A plan slowly started to form. She ran and grabbed a sharpie. With a a steady hand she drew a face on the moldy tangerine and began to kiss it. It felt just like Donald. She then knew that as long as she had moldy orange things in her home she would never miss her boy toy Donald again.
