Every time I let people look at it they throw tiny dill pickles at me.
Made me think of a story from some buddies I had in the barracks. I have no idea why they decided to do this but one night one of them hired an escort to "keep him company" in his room. Two or three of our other buddies were hiding in the closet and the plan was, as soon as they started to "do the deed" they popped out of the closed and pelted her with bologna while yelling "Balogna!!".