“Dayumn!” Donkey brayed in lonely frustration as he stood at Shrek’s empty castle gate. “Why does marriage have to change folks?”
He gazed up at the sky, a tear dripping into the fur under his huge brown eye. “And what’s that ugly ogre thinking anyway? He ain’t gonna like living in this pile of brick!”
Hanging his head, Donkey ambled down the path, away from the castle, dejected, imagining the castle filled with the laughter of miniature Shreks, which made him even sadder. But the main thing on Donkey’s mind was where he would live now that Shrek had boarded up his treehouse in the forest. “Mmmrrhhp,” Donkey snorted. “Some friend. The least that lily livered traitor could have done was left that dump for me.”
Donkey wasn’t watching where he was going and stumbled into a huge bramble of bushes. “Arrghh! Crap!” He whined, fighting his way out of the bush. Scratched, bleeding, Donkey was at the end of his rope. But as he came into a small clearing, there, like something out of a fairy tale, sat a beautiful, thatch-roofed cottage. “Whaaa? Wonder who lives here?” He brayed a bitter laugh, “mmmrrhph, probably Shrek’s hired help!”
As he drew closer to the cottage, Donkey saw a basket sitting on the steps. Warily, looking around, as if there was a soul out in the middle of bumfriggin castleville to see him, Donkey checked it out. There was fruit, apples, “oh yeah” and peaches, “oooh, boy!” but most amazingly of all was the note pinned to the basket.
Donkey, this place is our gift to you, mine and Fiona’s. No way could I live without my best friend near by.
Love always, Shrek.
“Well hot diggity dog!” Donkey shouted, dancing a jig around the yard of his new home. “Man, do I love that big ole ugly ogre!”