Consultation 16.

“I gave birth to a pickle, what should I do?”

“Eat it. Next!”

“…”

“...”

“...”

“...”

We conversed in back and forth bouts of silence with only our eyes.

“Hah? That’s it? That’s all the advice you have for me today?”

“I don’t know what else you really expected. If you have a pickle just eat it, right?”

“Come on, you’ve got to have more than that for me.”

“Why not slice it up and turn it into a burger topping then?”

“How could I possibly do that to my son?”

“Your son? Pickles have genders?”

“You’re a god and you don’t even know something that simple?”

“Sorry, I don’t know anyone who identifies as a pickle. Let me just do a bit of quick research.”

I pulled out my phone with dead eyes and typed in the search bar “I identify as a pickle.”

”I see. I see. So that’s how it is.”

“Oh? Did you find something?”

“Yeah. Is your son’s name Rick?”

Her eyes opened wide in shock, “How’d you know!”

Well, I found this online. I showed her my phone with inflated cheeks as I stared at her with judgmental eyes.

‘To be fair, I sexually Identify as Pickle Rick. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of ruling the sewers beating the shit out of all rats I could find. Fake fans say to me that a person being Pickle Rick is Impossible and I’m fucking retarded but I don’t GIVE A SHIIIT, I’m PIIICKLE RIIICK!!! I’m having my machine of Cockroach body parts install rat limbs, rat skin and daggers on my body. From now on I want you guys to call me “Pickles Cucumber Richard” and respect my right to kill rats and people needlessly. If you can’t accept me you’re a Fake Fan and need to check your Pickle privilege. Thank you for being so smart, with a IQ over 200 (Preferably lower than mine tho).’

Did your son post this by any chance?

She averted her eyes to the side and gave a meek nod.

“I understand, I can see why you need counseling. With a son who identifies as a pickle, it must be tough on you.”

Sniff. “You have no idea.”

“So what you really want to know is how to turn your son who identifies as a pickle into a normy?”

“Yes. God, please help me! I just don’t know what to do anymore.” She buried her face in her hands in distress while pleading for salvation.

I took a deep breath and gave my verdict, “Eat him.”

“This again?” She froze and asked on the verge of tears.

“Yes, you need to chew him out and beat his ass good. Be sure to send him to a school where he will get bullied a lot. As much as society wants to say that bullying is bad, children need to experience being bullied so they don’t turn into fuckwits like this who identify as a god damn pickle. Your son is a fucking retarded pickle because he wasn’t bullied enough growing up in life. You’ve obviously sheltered him too much. You need to kick the chick out of the nest if you want him to ever stop being a fucktard pickle.”

“Y-You’re sure about this?”

“Yes, without any doubt in my mind, this is the correct decision. Bullying isn’t necessarily evil, it is a means of establishing a norm. When you completely remove bullying from the equation you get abnormalities like fucking pickles showing up in society.”

“I… understand. I will give this a try. As long as my son no longer identifies as a pickle I’m willing to try anything. I thought if I accepted him as he was he’d be fine, but I was wrong. Maybe you’re right that I have been too easy on him.”

“Good. Now get going, I’m a busy man with an unreasonably long line of waifus to provide life counseling to.”