Mr. Lad comes to your house at 3 a.m and says these exact words "my pickle was sharp as a nickle, but your Punani was worthless like a sickle" You ask Mr.Lad "Why are you so taint?, my berries have been creamed and my pies are thick jam packed full of silk" No, Mr.Lad says and leaves.
The next week you see Mr.lad playing with his pickle in bed, you ask him, "maybe we can do the little lad dance one last time?" He replies "Sure baby girl"
After the various occasion of thy pickle master you leave.
Mr.Lad texts you later that day. This image:
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