Pickled Hate

There it is: the tastiest cheeseburger I’ve ever seen. 

The buns are softer than a fluffed velvet cloud. Juice tears down the flame-broiled meat without making the bread soggy. The cheese is slightly melted, creating a row of golden streaks down the side. My teeth itch with anticipation of the first bite. It’s really going to happen - a pure moment of delicious ecstasy. Life doesn’t seem like such a sad joke anymore. The world may not be as shitty as I once thought. Maybe there is hope. 

No! Fuck no! Why? Why?!!!!

My world is shattered. Tentacled UFO overlords have defecated on my existence. This is a conspiracy, a goddamn conspiracy! Someone is trying to destroy me. If I wasn’t retching guts through my throat, I’d find the perpetrator and give them a fork facial. My body’s convulsions won’t allow me to move forward. Here I am, immobile and hoping to regain strength. I’m not sure I’ll recover. Someone wants me dead. Maybe it was that albino panhandler squatting next to the parlor palms. Whoever it was, one thing is clear - someone is out to get me. 

Someone put pickles in my cheeseburger. 

We have robot vacuums, yet we still allow pickles to exist. Why? Is there a reason behind putting cucumbers in brine and waiting for them to morph into goblin intestines? What’s the advantage? Can’t we just paint turds green? Wouldn’t that accomplish the same thing?

Those are rhetorical questions. I don’t need answers. I need pickles outlawed, now and forever. Ordinarily, I would never suggest banning something, but as much as I like dismissing rules, I also enjoy imposing my whims on anyone weak enough to let another person dictate their life. I hate pickles and so do you. Don’t try to argue, that’s just the way it is. 

Before anyone says it - no, I can’t just remove pickles from a cheeseburger. Nobody can. Pickle juice contaminates food and makes it inedible. I’m now forced to throw my hamburger in the garbage and set fire to the trash can. I wouldn’t give the tainted burger away, no matter how hungry someone is. Why would I subject a starving person to the horrors of a pickle-stained hamburger? Haven’t they suffered enough?

A pickle looks like the Jolly Green Giant’s dick after a herpes outbreak. It’s slimy, green and bumpy. Why would anyone want to eat it? Putting something like that in your mouth won’t make your father love you. In fact, no one will love you. Don’t put it in your mouth. Nothing good will come from it. 

Pickles smell like octopus shit boiled in liquid asparagus. I’ve cleaned public bathrooms. I’ve shoveled animal excrement at the zoo. I’ve been less than an inch from maggots feasting on rotten dog food. Nothing, and I mean nothing, compares to the sour rank of pickles. Whenever tar fumes from road construction seep through my apartment window, I think, “This is giving me a headache! It smells awful, but it’s still not as bad as pickles.” If a pickle eater tried to talk to me, I’d vomit in their face to show them how bad their pickle breath stinks. On the other hand, they like pickles, so they’d probably like the smell of puke. 

Whenever I hear about someone giving a rimjob, I know that they’ve eaten pickles. If someone can tolerate eating a pickle, they can handle asshole nibbling. For all we know, they’re tongue diving the shit chute to get the taste of pickles out of their mouth. Like all other food, pickles are sometimes deep fried. Nothing can cover the sour taste of squishy vegetable muck. Alchemy is dead. You can’t deep fry feces into gold.

If the Vlasic Pickle Stork flew over my apartment, I’d shoot first and not ask questions later. Who does that feathered pickle pusher think he is? Why can’t he get sucked into the blades of a ghetto bird? I don’t want a brine-drowned vegetable corpse in my home. And what’s the deal with storks anyways? Whether it’s babies or pickles, they’re always trying to dump unwanted burdens on your doorstep. Storks should do the world a favor and go extinct. 

There are some people who like pickles. There are also people who approve of sex slaves and psychic hotlines. Coincidence? Don’t kid yourself. Pickle lovers are racist, child-murdering Communists who worship the devil and steal social security checks from the elderly. I don’t have any evidence to back this up, but there’s no evidence proving they aren’t child-killing commie thieves who praise Satan and hate the idea of a multi-colored bowling party. That’s enough evidence for me. Fuck those pickle-loving weirdos.

Do you want these undesirables trolling for your children? That’s right, think of the children. Think of them so I can manipulate your weak emotions and take advantage of your unusual child fetish. Bringing up the safety of children, whether relevant or not, is always a sure way to blindside rubes into falling in line. With all that said, do you want these picklers corrupting your kids? Think about that and nothing else. Now think about how much you hate pickles. Good job!

What’s to be done? Legislative action, that’s what. My personal hatred of pickles must be imposed on everyone. It’s for the good of the nation. Fermenting a cucumber is the worst thing a person can do. Worse than the Holocaust? Worse than the Rwanda Genocide? Worse than the Crusades? Well, none of those events ever fucked up my cheeseburger, so yes, a thousand times worse. 

We need comprehensive pickle control. Did you know that anyone, regardless of mental health or criminal history, can walk into a store and buy pickles? There are parents all over the country who keep pickles in their home and don’t lock them away in a secure place. Their kids can get into them at any time. This is madness! Where’s the sanity? 

We all hate pickles. Some people like them, but they’re not really people, so they don’t count. Let’s treat them like the scum they are. Let’s annex Trinidad. Once the island is cleared, we’ll fill it with cannibals and giant spiders. Anyone caught making, eating or licking a pickle will be banished to Trinidad for life. The cannibals can send us progress reports by pickling leftover body parts in jars and throwing them in the ocean. I’m sure they’d wash up on our shores eventually. If not, who cares? They’re just pickle eaters. Does it really matter what happens to them? 

The war on pickles must start today. Why are drugs outlawed when pickles infest our streets? Drugs are just a cheap way to go on vacation without leaving your couch. Pickles offend all senses. Nothing useful has ever come from a pickle. Whether gherkin, brine, dill or lime, they all taste like a swamp witch’s abortion. I can understand self-hatred and masochism, but I can’t understand willingly consuming a pickle. There’s no need for it. Flog yourself if you must. Burn yourself if you feel like you have to. Hire a prostitute to piss and spit on you if you feel like you deserve it. But eating a pickle? That’s just unnecessary. 

Put the pickle down and walk away. It’s not worth it. Winners don’t eat pickles. Be above the influence of brine.