Cucumbers Up in Arms About Pickle Privilege
Even though neither cukes nor pickles have or bear arms
A POOP– Procrastinators Organic Original Publication–Exclusive.
Lately, POOP’s office has been bombarded with complaints from normally compliant cucumbers. The closer it gets to November 14, National Pickle Day, the more voluminous and vociferous the complaints.
We finally relented and sent a cub scout out to find out what all the fuss was about.
Ms, Effer Essen, henceforward, EE, (wiping crumbs off her chin and chest): Wow! I’m like in Chula, Florida! Wait. no. I’m in Wauchula, Florida, the cucumber capital of the world. I’m standing here with Daddy ‘Duke’ Cuke, the chief spokes veggie — for the Order of the Cucurbitales, the Fraternity Club of the Family — oh, gosh. How do you pronounce that?
Daddy Duke Cuke, henceforward, DDC: That’s easy. Cu like que, cur like curr, bi like be or bee, either one, works, they’re synonyms, ta like tay, you know like that song about work all day for sugar in your tay, not tea but tay. And finally, ceae like sea or see, again synonyms, which means you can take your pick. Not pickle, pick.
EE: Waa, Chula! What a mouthful. Hard to wrap my tongue around all that. Can you give me a nutshell instead of a blow-by-blow?
DDC: Okay, I’ll give you the nutshell and you give me the blow — sorry, couldn’t resist.
EE: Sir, there could be children watching!
DDC: Okay, the nutshell. Que-curr-bee–tay–see. Cucurbitaceae.
EE: That’s easy for you to say.
DDC: Yes, but I’ve had a lot of practice.
Get to the point, already!
EE: No doubt. Now, what’s your beef with pickles?
DDC: Pickles, it seems, enjoy certain privileges we cukes are not privy to.
EE: Like what?
DDC: Well, first of all, they have a sport named after them. And the sport has nothing to do with pickles. Many pickleball balls aren’t even green. And they’re perfectly round. Not oblong as you’d expect. And completely smooth. Wartless. No flavor, sweet or dill. Have you ever tried to eat a pickleball?
EE: Can’t say that I have. Nor would I want to. They’ve been on the ground and severely paddled after all.
DDC: We cukes, on the other hand, being bigger and sturdier, offer the sports industry all kinds of ops. We can bat. We can swing at a pickleball. We’d cream them.
EE: I bet you would.
DDC: We’d love to take a stab at swordplay.
EE: You have a point there.
DDC: We can be sharpened. We can even be bent, which makes us perfect for hockey — field or, even better, ice. We’re stronger when we’re frozen.
EE: Frozen? Little girls will like that.
DDC: And even some big girls. That’s another sport we’re good for. Unlike our diminutive cousins who can’t hit a puck to save their lives.
More Tasteless Cucumis Jokes
EE: Hmm. I can see that. But pickles have a lot more flavor. You cukes are, well, rather tasteless.
DDC: But all their flavor comes from the brine and pickling spices. And that’s another thing, they get their own spices.
EE: As do pumpkins. But I don’t hear you complaining about that.
DDC: We did complain. Last month. But no one bothered to cover us. Not even with brine.
EE: Uh-oh. Do I detect a bit of pickle envy?
DDC: Hardly. Who’d want to be shriveled up, covered with warts, and dinky?
EE: Some folks prefer pickles to —
DDC: Only because of ads and product placement. Like that neon sign above. Ever see a neon cucumis?
EE: Can’t say I have. Have you?
DDC: No. I was being rhetorical. We might be in your sandwich, but they’re garnish on or around it. They get seen. We don’t.
What’s a meta for?
EE: I see. What a pickle.
DDC: That’s another thing. They have a metaphor named after them.
EE: So does jam.
DDC: That’s not the point. The point is, we don’t.
EE: But being in a pickle is not a good thing.
DDC: Yes, but being in a metaphor is.
EE: How so?
DDC: Name recognition. It’s second only to product placement.
EE: Yeah, but would you want to be placed in brine and shriveled?
DDC: Heck no. Would you?
EE (shakes her head) No thanks.
DDC: Which is why pickle privilege makes no sense. We’re way more nutritious.
EE: And edible when dipped. I love you in Thai peanut sauce
DDC: See what I mean? We’re much more ethnically compatible.
EE: I getcha.
DDC: But our biggest complaint is happening right now.
EE: Oh?
The Holiday Pickle
DDC: November 14 is National Pickle Day.
EE: I’m gonna be busy covering —
DDC: Where’s our day?
EE: Right here in Wow-Chula. Your world capital.
DDC: I meant when. When’s our day?
EE: Every day’s your day. After all, there’s no pickles without cukes.
DDC: Do little kids know that? Is it taught in schools?
EE: Don’t you see. You, too, can have pickle privilege if you’re willing to take the plunge.
DDC: I’d rather die on the vine.
EE: (reaching out to caress him) Not before I get my hands on you.
DDC: (standing even more erect) Now we’re talking…
EE: (breathing heavily, running her hands up and down the Duke) Hard. Ly.
DDC: Thanks for seeing all sides of our story.
EE: (throwing off her clothes) Duke? Are you…ready…for the…inside scoop?
Duke’s response was inaudible as he took the plunge.
Effer Essen managed to wrap her whole mouth around his…story and then plunged him even deeper. Her words got fewer and farther between after that. Some expletives, some religious invocations, and some extremely loud repetitions of short affirmative adverbs.
Nothing more to say, except Happy National Pickle Day!