Jerome, AZ
September 24th, 2018
15:17:49

"A pickle?" The scary thicc blonde hottie looked at me incredulously. "The fuck do you need with a pickle?"

"You want me to do this or not? Give me a pickle!" I whined like a child. Truth be told, I was just hungry. If someday, somewhere, my thoughts are made into a book, I thought to myself, I want all my readers to know how amazing Middle Eastern pickles are. Seriously, I want all of them to go to the nearest Middle Eastern grocery store and ask for pickles, pickled olives, pickled lemons, and pickled onions. Stay away from the beets though, dear future readers, they're nasty.

I was jolted back to reality by the lady's glare piecing my eyes and shooting out the other side like titanium bullets. She'd been standing there glaring at me the whole time while I daydreamed about pickles... that's awk. Finally she snapped her head back and said "Brad! Go get her one of your weird ass pickles."

Ayyyyy lunch time, I praised the lord silently for gifting me with the pickles while I was being held hostage... not that I wasn't aware how serious the situation was, but I had to prioritize!

Brad, a pale man with frizzy red hair and nerdy glasses, sprinted to the back of the room, body slammed through the double doors, and kept running, leaving them swinging back and forth behind him. I was low key disappointed that I probably wouldn't get a Middle Eastern pickle, but hey, a pickle's a pickle.

"While he's gone, allow me to introduce myself," the blonde ninja lady said mockingly. "I'm Monica Herle, your kidnapper," she smirked, and then held out her hand to shake mine.

"Uh- hi," I half asked, holding out my hand awkwardly, unsure if I should shake hands or not. She could have AIDS!

She grabbed my hand and pulled it into a really firm handshake, I could feel my knuckles and bones crack as she tightened her python grip. When she finally let go, I could barely feel my fingers anymore.

"Monica Hurl? As in 'I hurled on the rollercoaster operator at Kong's Island' kind of Hurl?" I asked her.

Before she got the chance to bitch slap me or react in any other way, Brad sprinted back into the room with a pickle in his hand. He tossed it to Monica and then retreated silently into the crowd of nerds. Monica turned to me and held out the pickle expectantly.

"What am I supposed to be doing again?" I asked, having already forgotten the conversation we had 5 minutes ago.

"God, this girl is an idiot" Monica muttered under her breath, letting out a low sigh. "Ok, let's start again. You're here because you're special. You have an ability that you're hiding and you're gonna show it to me or Curly here shoots your brains out."

"Curly?" I asked, turning around to face the bald, ugly guy who was still holding me at gunpoint. I'd honestly kind of forgotten about him. "Is your name really Curly?" I tilted my head, suddenly curious.

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT JUST DO THE THING" Monica yelled, snapping my attention back to her.

Oh, I thought, remembering that I actually had no clue what she was talking about from the very beginning. Time to wing it with my pickle trick.

I took the pickle from her hand and sliced the skin vertically on one side of it with my thumbnail. I stuck my fingers into the small slit and boom. In a flash, it was done. The pickle had been turned inside out without a scratch.

The room went eerily silent, and then erupted with applause and whistles and comments like "Oh my god how did she do that?" I gave the inverted pickle back to Monica and took a bow, grinning from ear to ear. As I stood up again, my eyes met hers and my smile shriveled into an "o" when I saw her not-at-all amused expression.

"So... I take it that's not the ability you were looking for?" I asked cautiously, then continued without letting her respond. "Mrs. Hurl, you've got the wrong gal. The only thing I know how to do is invert pickles, which isn't even an ability! Do you know how many talent shows I've been dragged out of? I'm as ordinary as a pickle, and I have the IQ of one, so really I don't think I'm worth holding hostage." I blurted it all out a mile a minute, hoping that if I spoke fast she wouldn't have a chance to murder me.

If her expression wasn't terrifying before, it certainly was now. She got this evil, forboding gleam in her eyes and she took a step closer, looming a full foot over me. In a low, terrifying voice she growled, "You have powers, Vonda. You have abilities no normal human could even dream of having. You have talent that could take over the world, and that's exactly what we're going to do."

She looked up and yelled, "Brad! Take her to the rest of the kidnapples. Maybe they'll know how to squeeze it out of her"

"Honey if you squeeze me all you'll get is pickle juice!" I yelled back at her as Brad dragged me away from my armpits. Dragging my feet and struggling, I made sure to kick Curly on my way out.

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[A/N]

First off, I'd like to express how much I actually hate pickles. The only things I'll tolerate are the tiny pickled cucumbers from Mediterranean restaurants, WHICH ARE AMAZING OK? GO TRY THEM IMMEDIATELY.

I also think I should apologize for how horrible my writing is as a whole. Thanks for making it to Chapter 3 of my weird ass pickle kidnapping story!

Also that's not a typo, I really did mean to say Kong's Island. I don't want any amusement park owners from Cincinnati tracking me down and suing me for copyright infringement lol. If there's any other typos or anything just lmk!

-BloodCurler