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I have borne witness to the rainbows of the koolicle and basked in the viridian glow of Chicagoan relish. But just beneath the lid of our oceanic jar glides a bloodless briny behemoth heretofore unnoticed. Many have sought this gargantuan gherkin before me and met their gods in its pallid pursuit. It is not for them. This is my white pickle.


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