The Misadventures of Weiß Part 3:
Omi and the Pickle
This is about Omi. Omi and a pickle. I don't know why. Omi just has a pickle. Technically, Omi has two pickles in this story. But we're talking about the kind you buy in a grocery store. Yea. *** One day, after Ran left Omi's place, after a conversation on ice cream, he decided he was hungry.
He looked in his cabinets.
Nothing.
He looked through the pantry.
Nothing.
He looked through the fridge.
Nothing.
He even looked through the garbage.
Nothing.
He then decided he would go out to eat, but he had to piss.
While pissing, he got hungrier. He looked down.
"Hmm." he said.
He then began in his girly voice.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle my pickle." He stopped.
"That's it! He exclaimed. "I'll get a pickle!"
So, after pissing and getting his "pickle" unstuck from his pants, he went to the store with a couple dollars. Why he was using dollars in Japan, we'll never know. He just did.
Well, after the ramblings of the author, he got to the store. He went to the pickle isle. Yes, there IS a pickle isle. Don't ask.
Well, he searched high and low. The dozens of pickle types and brands were almost too much to take. He was about to give up, when he saw the one.
It was beautiful. There was one jar left. The green lumpy fruits.vegetable? No one really knows. But whatever it was, it called to him.
He grabbed the jar without hesitation and walked to the cashier.
"This all you need?" the zit faced girl asked popping a bubble in her gum.
"Yes," he replied proudly.
He gave her the money and ran out the door. He opened the jar and bit into one of the pickles. It was pure ecstasy. The bitter sweetness was almost too much. He looked around suspiciously and sneaked away to a secluded area in the park.
"All mine." he said and began on the second. It only seemed to get better. He began to sing.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle my pickle-" he stopped short. In his singing, he failed to notice there was only one left.
"Wh...WHAT?!" he cried. "It's impossible!"
He looked around and began to weep. Not only had he lost the best food he had ever tasted, but also.a friend.
"What's wrong?" Farf asked, holding a freshly baked batch of cookies. "Want one?"
"No." Omi sighed.
"What is it?" Farf asked, concerned.
"It's.This pickle," he replied. "I. Don't think I can eat it."
"I understand," Farf commented.
"You do?" Omi looked up.
"Well, Schuldig, you see," Farf went on. "He went through this."
"Whatever happened?" Omi asked.
"He had to eat it," Farf said. "It was causing too much pain. It was interfering with everyday activities."
"So.You're saying I have to eat it?" Omi asked sadly.
"Yes." Farf said, and walked away. "I trust you'll do the right thing."
Omi looked at the jar. He opened it and took the first painful bite.
He started singing sadly, crunching between words.
"Tickle.Tickle.Tickle my pickle."
He looked at the last bite and took it with tears in his eyes.
"It always.Makes me giggle.When you tickle.My pickle." He finished sadly, leaving the empty jar there.in memory.
This is about Omi. Omi and a pickle. I don't know why. Omi just has a pickle. Technically, Omi has two pickles in this story. But we're talking about the kind you buy in a grocery store. Yea. *** One day, after Ran left Omi's place, after a conversation on ice cream, he decided he was hungry.
He looked in his cabinets.
Nothing.
He looked through the pantry.
Nothing.
He looked through the fridge.
Nothing.
He even looked through the garbage.
Nothing.
He then decided he would go out to eat, but he had to piss.
While pissing, he got hungrier. He looked down.
"Hmm." he said.
He then began in his girly voice.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle my pickle." He stopped.
"That's it! He exclaimed. "I'll get a pickle!"
So, after pissing and getting his "pickle" unstuck from his pants, he went to the store with a couple dollars. Why he was using dollars in Japan, we'll never know. He just did.
Well, after the ramblings of the author, he got to the store. He went to the pickle isle. Yes, there IS a pickle isle. Don't ask.
Well, he searched high and low. The dozens of pickle types and brands were almost too much to take. He was about to give up, when he saw the one.
It was beautiful. There was one jar left. The green lumpy fruits.vegetable? No one really knows. But whatever it was, it called to him.
He grabbed the jar without hesitation and walked to the cashier.
"This all you need?" the zit faced girl asked popping a bubble in her gum.
"Yes," he replied proudly.
He gave her the money and ran out the door. He opened the jar and bit into one of the pickles. It was pure ecstasy. The bitter sweetness was almost too much. He looked around suspiciously and sneaked away to a secluded area in the park.
"All mine." he said and began on the second. It only seemed to get better. He began to sing.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle my pickle-" he stopped short. In his singing, he failed to notice there was only one left.
"Wh...WHAT?!" he cried. "It's impossible!"
He looked around and began to weep. Not only had he lost the best food he had ever tasted, but also.a friend.
"What's wrong?" Farf asked, holding a freshly baked batch of cookies. "Want one?"
"No." Omi sighed.
"What is it?" Farf asked, concerned.
"It's.This pickle," he replied. "I. Don't think I can eat it."
"I understand," Farf commented.
"You do?" Omi looked up.
"Well, Schuldig, you see," Farf went on. "He went through this."
"Whatever happened?" Omi asked.
"He had to eat it," Farf said. "It was causing too much pain. It was interfering with everyday activities."
"So.You're saying I have to eat it?" Omi asked sadly.
"Yes." Farf said, and walked away. "I trust you'll do the right thing."
Omi looked at the jar. He opened it and took the first painful bite.
He started singing sadly, crunching between words.
"Tickle.Tickle.Tickle my pickle."
He looked at the last bite and took it with tears in his eyes.
"It always.Makes me giggle.When you tickle.My pickle." He finished sadly, leaving the empty jar there.in memory.