Pickle Party

Bread and Butter showed up first, thank God, with bread and butter (we hadn't any food out yet). They had flown in from Detroit on a real time-crunch. Then the Gherkins arrived Pushing through and eating Half the sourdough and margarine. Total Gherks. The cornichons arrived soon after, slightly smaller than gherkins and with French accents. They stood against the back wall smoking cigarettes. The limes ubered over, Sour looks on their faces while handing us egg salad. Their driver got lost Putting them in a real pick- Oh here comes an army of Hungarians, They had been sun basking all day, Their conversations crisp and witty. Must be all that vitamin D. Ahhh the Dills, speaking of d's. They're royalty here. Everyone's clapping, Which is hard to do for a pickle. Oh Kosher was right behind the Dills and we didn't notice. Hope that's not a big dill. Now I smell them. Garlic. What's that? Germans have been waiting in the hallway? I told them skinless is fine. They found my terminology "unappealing?" Cumberto, send some herring out for them, anyhow. Welcome full sour, welcome half sour, and the newborn, Little quarter sour. Now take those looks off your faces and have a seat. Last but not least, the hot pickles, always late, soooo popular. Well, thank-you all for coming We have herring, potato salad, Bread and butter, we have baseball pickle highlights on the tube on a loop and- Oh! One more guest I see, Kool-Aid, of course, Cuz that's a thing. Try the vinegar dip, And please don't stain my couch red.