The loneliest wiener

I skewer a hot dog with a fork and raise it out of the boiling water. But I can’t leave this hot dog intact. We do not have the proper buns in the house. Tears well up in my eyes as I am forced to slice it in two, placing the two stumpy halves besides each other on a hamburger bun. When tragedy strikes, your true self comes out. I am a fighter. I will eat this hot dog on an improper bun. There are very few things more tragic…