I, a humble bottle of bbq sauce find myself falling in love with a sexy croissant from the bakery section and we sneak to meet each other every night in electronics. We begin to plan a beautiful future together where we move back to her homeland if France and raise beautiful adopted marshmallow children on the countryside. Day by day I start to notice her changing almost as if she was withering away, she began walking slower and her movements more stiff. Only a week has passed by and she rots away. This is why parishable and non parishable love is forbidden. I just feel bad for things without near expiration dates falling in love with unprocessed foods.