Chesterfield Montgomery and the Pickle Jar That Just Would Not Open

Chesterfield Montgomery was a tall, muscular slice of manliness. He used to live in a trailer park in Tacoma with his mother and his pot-bellied pig named Danykwaq. But he doesn't do that anymore, because mom and Danykwaq were all up in his business, and he's just too cool for that crap.
One day, Chesterfield Montgomery was making a California grilled chicken and avocado sandwich on focaccia bread.
"Hmm," said Chesterfield Montgomery, "I know what else I want to eat! PICKLES!"
Chesterfield Montgomery went to his fridge, and inside, on the middle shelf, to the left of the mustard, was a brand-new, unopened jar of whole kosher pickles. Chesterfield Montgomery reached for the pickles, ready to munch on their briney goodness. He placed the jar of pickled on the counter, took his large, manly hand, and attempted to show those pickles who was boss.
But Chesterfield Montgomery had recently moisturized his manly hands, and the pickle jar just would not open.
"Fiddlesticks!" shouted Chesterfield Montgomery. "There is only one option left! I need help with this pickle jar."
So Chesterfield Montgomery ventured out of his studio apartment above the Korean-operated convenience store and out into the world.
Chesterfield Montgomery wandered down the sidewalks of the city.
"Help me, someone!" called Chesterfield Montgomery. "I need assistance with my jar of pickles!"
"I will help you, Chesterfield Montgomery!" hollered Dudeman, who had been sitting on the corner of the sidewalk with his rockin' guitar.
Chesterfield Montgomery thanked Dudeman and handed him the undefeatable pickle jar.
Dudeman tried and tried, but the pickle jar just would not open.
"I'm sorry, Chesterfield Montgomery," said Dudeman. "I can't help you."
"Thank you anyway, Dudeman," said Chesterfield Montgomery sadly, and he went off to find someone else to help him.
"Will someone help me open this pickle jar?" asked Chesterfield Montgomery as he continued down the sidewalk.
"I will help you, Chesterfield Montgomery!" called William Shatner.
"Why would you want to help me, William Shatner?" asked Chesterfield Montgomery skeptically. "Wasn't it you who gave me this scar when I was only one year old?"
Chesterfield Montgomery revealed the scar on his upper arm which said I *heart* Mom.
"Yes, that was me," said Shatner guiltily. "At least let me try to make it up to you by helping you open this jar of pickles."
William Shatner tried and tried, but the pickle jar just would not open.
"I'm sorry, Chesterfield Montgomery," said William Shatner. "I can't help you."
"Thank you anyway, William Shatner," said Chesterfield Montgomery sadly, and he continued down the sidewalks of the city.
"Can't anyone help me with this pickle jar?" bellowed Chesterfield Montgomery.
"I will help you, Chesterfield Montgomery!" said a woman.
"Who are you?" asked Chesterfield Montgomery.
"I'm Grapefruit!" said Grapefruit. "May I help you with your jar of pickles?"
Chesterfield Montgomery handed Grapefruit the pickle jar. Grapefruit tried and tried, but - the lid of the pickle jar began to move! In what seemed like no time at all, Grapefruit was handing the defeated pickles back to Chesterfield Montgomery, minus the lid.
"Thank you, Grapefruit!" said Chesterfield Montgomery. "How can I ever repay you?"
"You can give me half of your California grilled chicken and avocado sandwich on focaccia bread!" said Grapefruit.
So Chesterfield Montgomery and Grapefruit shared a sandwich, and they lived happily ever after.


Thank you, thank you, I know you were all wondering where it was.
The saga of Chesterfield Montgomery and the Pickle Jar That Just Would Not Open has been finished! Who wants to illustrate?
I hope you all enjoyed it, and Floam, I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of finishing up where we left off.
Much love,
Simba