Standing by the pickle barrel with Mr Drucker; fishing for the jewelry we fucking put in there. They're fucking arresting my husband Oliver. Mr Kimball is over there oblivious, just fucking counting the beans again. Fucking A bro. The pickles aren't even real bro. THE FUCKING PICKLES AREN'T EVEN REAL.

I'm just beefed out you know what I mean man? It's like, when time starts stopping, exist stops existing. It's just a game we're not real things man, jus like them pickles.