Opening the Pickle Jar

Pickle Barrel sealed 'n shut,
Best darn thing since ole king Tut
Even feed them to my mutt,
Always had a grande appeal.

Called the locksmith at his house,
Said he "busy with a mouse",
Heard a bang and then a pounce,
Big fat cat just made a meal.

“Be right over,” said the smith,
Rode his Jamis o’re a cliff,
Landed in a sea of pitch,
Said “now where’s dat pickle jar?”

First his bike needed some fixin’
Said “Well I’ll be Richard Nixon!”
Found he broke the blasted kickstand
He got his tools n’ began to start.

Tried and tried in different ways,
C-clamps, levers, ole lube spray,
Thrashing motions until dazed,
Still the lid on that jar stayed.

Locksmith chuckled and he said,
"A ha! Look what I'll do instead!"
Picked up something struck me dead,
Jawbone of a monkey's head!

Clamped it down all nice and tight,
Gave a twist and said "Good night"
River wild and I caught a bite,
Fifty pickles dancing swiftly:

Picking pickles, pouncing poultry,
Quite the opposite of sultry,
Raining down my precious tasty
To my mouth in utmost glory;
Pickles placed in pots of Pace
Prickling down a peachy face,
Weeding out the evil snakes,
Putrefaction laid to waste;
Purple mountains, flying pay stubs,
Granted lawyers win the case of
Proof with ever undying love
For the fruit I deem the best

Now you folks know how I feel,
That ole can was darn good sealed
Nothin’ stopped a blessed meal,
Save perhaps munching a seal;
Given hands you shouldn't deal,
Life may never come reveal
Nothin’ else but just a spiel
Of Pickles' glory laid to rest.

One shla-bob of a night. Great bye.