| "There's a sponge in the pickle barrel
to absorb the dill spores", the sign read in Mr. Newbury's Swedish
Butchery Mart. The sign, put there to discourage inquiries of the large,
orange rectangular object in the jar, had been in place since Franklin Newbury
opened the Knockworst-based business back in 1957. Franklin was a kind man,
a gentile man. He was a pillar of his community, and he gave all of his
store's profit to charity. One day, a three-foot-nine-inch midget wobbled
into the store, just around closing time. Franklin glanced up from his bonesaw,
then continued carving the bicuspid from the moosehead's mouth. The midget
walked around the aisle, touching everything with his tiny, tater-tot fingers
when he spied the pickle barrel in the corner of the room. Franklin once
again looked at the small man and noticed him starting for the barrel, smiling.
Just as he reached for the lid of the enormous barrel, the midget gazed
into it's contents. In the corner of his eye, he thought he spied a human
ear float by, but bah...it couldn't be. He removed the lid from the barrel
and lowered his pudgy hand into the dill solution. With a shriek, he whipped
his hand out of the jar and began screaming in agony. Franklin leaped from
behind the counter and slammed shut and bolted the front door, then grabbed
the midget by the arm. He snatched the butcher knife on the counter, raised
it over the midget's arm, and swung it down, removing the midget's hand.
He picked the hand up, waved it under the little man's nose, then threw
it back into the pickle barrel, where it disintegrated instantly. The midget's
yelling head was next. The next morning, old Mrs. Whiplint shuffled in the
front door. A smiling Franklin greeted her. "Well good morning, Mrs.
Whiplint! And what can I do for you today?". "Just come by for
my morning pickle, Franklin" She proudly stated, as she walked to the
pickle barrel. "My....", the elderly woman sighed, "Your
sponge seems to have gotten much larger, Franklin!". "Well, the
other one was getting kind of worn, so I replaced it with a larger one"
Mr. Newbury replied. "Ohhh!", Mrs. Whiplint exalted in delight,
"You have put some mini-pickles in your jar! How delightful! I'll take
four!". Franklin Newbury smiled as he wrapped the dwarf-pickles tightly
in the wax paper. |
