…And out in front of the deli was a man eating the most tremendous pickle. A pickle the size of four pregnant watermelons! Just a huge monster pickle.
He walked up to me, pushed the pickle in my face and started asking me questions. It was about the same time I noticed the pickle in my face I noticed a cord hangin’ from the long end of the pickle, goin’ up his sleeve down his shirt, into his pants and shoes out into a briefcase he had near his feet.
I knew it wasn’t an ordinary pickle…
—Arlo Guthrie (“The Motorcycle Song”)
