I thought I was something special until I looked up and saw you and thought to myself, I bet he thinks he’s something special too.
Then the word spread, it got around that we were all alike. Not one, not two were any different from the rest of us in sight.
We had to think, what could we do to not be thought of as one in the same. But be an individual, like a person with a name.
Sally, Ann, Ethel, none of these names will do. I had a hunch that out of the bunch my name could stand alone. Mary Henry Clark Stallone I shouted as though I had been given a throne. But not another word was heard. I was so loud. I shook the crowd and tipped the jar around. Which woke Jim Brown, who owned us now from the market in town.
Goodbye my crew, I bid adieu no longer will I stay, trapped inside pickled gas with the likes of you another day.
Come Jim Brown, take me now, my audience awaits. But pickles don’t become stars just because they pop out of a jar, it’s a matter of fate.