Mitch had to admit to himself that he would rather be a living donkey instead of a rubber hollow one. The next thing he knew, Mitch heard the loud clattering of something metal. “You treated me like garbage,” he heard Nathan say to him, “now I’m just returning the favor. See ya, Mitch! Have fun. Maybe I’ll go find Karissa, tell her you say hi.” Then, with a soft squeaky thud, Mitch felt himself fall into something wet and slimy. There were those clattering metal sounds again and then total darkness. Then silence. Horrible lonely silence.
Mitch occasionally heard footsteps clatter by on the sidewalk. He tried with all his might to scream for help, but he couldn’t even make a slight whimper anymore. He was completely and utterly helpless, unable to move or speak. He was alone with his thoughts and the surreal nature of knowing he was a large anatomically correct blow up donkey was not comforting. Mitch spent minutes, then hours, then days in the dumpster. He lost track of time and sunk into madness, only vaguely becoming aware of anything when a tiny crack of light came through the lid of his filthy prison. Mitch came to one clear conclusion during this time; the city sanitation department sucked. Hard.