But, you know the most amazing thing was, I didn't die.
I landed on top of a police car and it died.
I come into town at a screaming 175 mile an hour singing my new motorcycle song.
I stopped out front of the deli,
and out front the deli was a man eating the most tremendous pickle,
a pickle the size of four pregnant watermelons.
Just a huge monster pickle.
He walked up to me and pushed the pickle in my face and started asking me questions.
About the same time I noticed the pickle in my face,
I noticed a cord hangin' from the long end of the pickle,
going up his sleeve, though his shirt, down his pants, and out by his shoe, into a brief case he had near his feet.
I knew it wasn't an ordinary pickle.
