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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2030492-Lammy-and-Mr-Pickles
by Huds
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Death · #2030492
A horror creepypasta-style story about these characters from "Happy Tree Friends."
If you look at him, you’ll just see a pickle, but that’s not how I see him.

I see him as a friend.

His name is Mr. Pickles. The way I see him is a pickle with little stick legs and arms. He also has a big top hat with a purple horizontal stripe above the brim of the hat. He has two small black eyes and a little smile. He always smiles. That’s because he’s always happy around me. He and I are best friends. We are inseparable.

Mr. Pickles doesn’t like it when I’m around other people, though. He wants himself to be my only friend. But I would never leave him. I will always be his friend, no matter what anyone says. No one can tell me I’m crazy, because they just can’t see what I see.

Well, one day I decided to go for a walk with Mr. Pickles. On our walk we met a girl named Petunia. She had long, dark blue hair and blue eyes. She wore a blue dress, a flower hair pin and a fake emerald necklace. She was friendly and she wanted to have a play date with me. I thought about it, and I was about to say “no”, but for some reason I said “yes”. I don’t know why I did it. It just...slipped out of my mouth.

Well, anyway, Petunia wanted me to come over to her house at 2:00PM, and, well, it was too late to go back now, so I agreed. I knew Mr. Pickles was upset, but I explained this was an accident and I don’t want her to be my friend. I was a little worried, because bad things happen when Mr. Pickles gets upset.
Very bad things.



It was now 1:54 at my house. I decided to take Mr. Pickles with me just to try to make him happy.

“I know you’re upset, Mr. Pickles,” I said to him on the way to Petunia’s house. “But I’m not going to become friends with her. It’s just a one-time play date.”

I paused. “Look, I won’t ever leave you. You are my one and only true friend. No matter what it looks like, I will only love you. I mean it.”

Mr. Pickles said nothing. That’s because he doesn’t talk. He is as silent as a mime. But I always know what Mr. Pickles is thinking. I don’t know how, maybe it is why only I can see his true self, but I just...know.

And I knew he was upset.

Very upset.


I got to Petunia’s house on time (I know where she lives because she told me when I met her).

“Remember, be nice,” I said as I rang her doorbell.

Petunia opened the door and smiled at me.

“Hi,” she said cheerfully. “You made it.”

“Yeah,” I replied with a smile. “Here I am.”

She then looked at Mr. Pickles.

“Oh, you didn’t need to bring that,” she said. “I have plenty of snacks.”

“Mr. Pickles isn’t a snack,” she said. “He’s my friend, and he wanted to come with me to play with you.”

Petunia said nothing for a little while, staring at my friend. Then she said, “Okay. Well you and your friend can come in.”

I stepped into her home. It was a nice house. The walls were purple and the floor was a faded cream-ish color. The room she led me to was a big room with a couch, two chairs-one wooden and one stuffed-in different areas of the room, and a red and green oval mat in the center of the room. There was also a big TV at the edge of the wall.

“You stay here, I’ll bring some things over.” said Petunia.

“Do you need my help?” I asked.

“Uh, okay,” she said cheerfully. “Come with me.”

I left Mr. Pickles on the wooden chair and said to him, “Stay put, I’ll be right back.”

Petunia giggled.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“It’s just weird that you’re friends with a pickle,” she replied. “It’s just...strange.”

“What do you mean ‘strange’?” I questioned her. “Do think I’m crazy?”

“No,” she said. “It’s just...interesting. Yeah, that’s it. Interesting. A girl and a pickle; the best of friends.”

“Mr. Pickles isn’t just a pickle,” I protested. “He is more than that. He is different but you just can’t see that. Only I can. He has arms and legs and a big top hat. We dance and play and do everything together. He is my special friend.”

“Alright,” she said. I had a feeling she didn’t believe me. But I’m not surprised. No one really believes me. But they just can’t see what I see.

We went into her room and we got a small table, a tea set, and some of Petunia’s dolls. When we got back into the room, Mr. Pickles was now on the couch. Petunia looked at him, looked at the wooden chair, then back at Mr. Pickles.

Maybe now she believes me, I thought.

But she shrugged and sat down, so I knew she said to herself that her mind was playing tricks on her.

Well, we had our tea party set up and ready to go. I sat next to Mr. Pickles and one of Petunia’s dolls, while Petunia sat next to that doll and another one. Including the dolls, there were 5 of us all together.

We started to have a tea party together. I poured a cup of tea to Mr. Pickles, and he gladly took a sip. Mr. Pickles loves tea parties, so I was glad he was enjoying himself. Maybe he won’t cause any trouble.

After we all had some more tea, Petunia got up and asked us if we wanted to have some cucumber sandwiches.

“No!” I cried. Even though cucumbers aren’t necessarily pickles, I don’t eat them because not only are they similar to pickles, Mr. Pickles doesn’t want to me to eat them because...well...you would probably understand.

Petunia looked surprised.

“Uh, I mean, no thank you.” I said. “Is it okay if my sandwich doesn’t have cucumbers in it?”

“Umm...sure,” she said. She seemed to sound a bit unsure for some reason. “Cucumber-free sandwiches coming right up.”

Petunia went into the kitchen and started making sandwiches. I turned to look at Mr. Pickles, but he was gone. I panicked and looked around, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. But I also realized that something else was missing: one of Petunia’s dolls.

Then I heard the sound of ripping fabric, and I realised what just happened. I looked behind me to see Mr. Pickles holding the ripped head of Petunia’s doll in one hand, and the body in the other.

I heard a voice coming from the kitchen:

“Huh, what was that sound?”

“Uh, nothing!” I called to her. I panicked, took the two pieces of the doll, and put the body on the chair and the head on top like nothing happened. When Petunia came in, I acted as if I was getting more tea for myself. She was carrying a tray of two sandwiches, each with a plate under it. One sandwich had mayonnaise and ham and the other had the same but with cucumber.

“Where’s one for Mr. Pickles?” I asked.

“What?”

“Mr. Pickles. He wanted a sandwich too. But you only made two.”

“But why doesn’t he make a sandwich for himself if he wants it so badly?”

“He doesn’t know where the ingredients are.”

“Ugh, does he really need one?”

“Please, can you make another one for him?”

Petunia sighed. “Fine.”

She placed the sandwiches down and went back to the kitchen to make another one. I took the sandwich without cucumbers and took a bite. It was pretty good. I took another bite. Then I realised Mr. Pickles was sitting in the chair next to Petunia’s other doll. He once again ripped its head off. I panicked again, but this time I tried to put the doll back together. It was no use. The seams were torn and the only way I could fix it was to sow it back together. Just then I heard a scream and a crash of plates coming from the kitchen. I looked up and saw Petunia with a shocked look on her face.

“No,” I started to explain. “This isn’t what it looks like. I-”

“What did you do to my dolls!?” She yelled.

“No, I didn’t do this,” I cried. “It was Mr.-“

“No!” She shouted. “Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m not lying! He’s just jealous!”

“Stop it! Mr. Pickles isn’t real!”

“But he is! You just can’t-“

“He isn’t real! He’s just a stupid pi-”

She was cut off because she was choking. Choking on her necklace that was being pulled by Mr. Pickles. I franticly got up and tried to stop Mr. Pickles from choking her. I dug my fingers under the necklace and pulled on the other end. Mr. Pickles is surprisingly strong. Petunia choked and gasped for air. The necklace broke and Mr. Pickles was sent flying across the room. I was still holding on to Petunia’s neck.

I heard a scream from outside. I looked out the window to see a boy with large buck teeth and a purple shirt stare at me, and then ran away. At first I was confused, but then I looked at a mirror hanging on a wall and gasped.

It looked like I was strangling Petunia.

Petunia struggled and I immediately let go of her. She staggered back, gasping for air. She then scorned at me.

“What the hell where you doing!?”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know Mr. Pickles would choke you.”

“Shut up! JUST SHUT UP!”

She ran away from me into the kitchen. I ran after her.

“Wait! Come back! I’m sorry!”

She stopped beside the fridge, turned around, and just stared at me with an angry and upset face.

“You’re sorry!?” she cried. “You came to my house, you ripped my dolls, you broke my necklace, you tried to strangle me and now you’re saying sorry!? And you’re also blaming this on a pickle!”

“For the last time she isn’t a pickle!” I shouted back. “He’s my friend and he’s real!”

“What is wrong with you!? You are crazy!”

“No, I’m not crazy! I’m just the only one who can see him for what he really is!”

I stepped forward, and she immediately stepped back.

“No!” she yelled. “Stay away from me you freak!” She then hit the fridge in anger, causing it to shake.

Suddenly, a clay pot fell right on her head, shattering into pieces. I looked up from where the pot fell from. On top of the fridge from where it fell, was Mr. Pickles.

Petunia screamed in pain. I saw blood drip down her face. I stood back, trying not to step in any sharp pieces. I looked back at Mr. Pickles.

“Stop it!” I cried. “Why are you doing this!?”

Mr. Pickles had hurt people before, but never like this. He never drew blood before. Ever.

Petunia staggered back, moaning in pain. She glared angrily at me. I just stared back at her, not saying anything. She and I stood there and just looked at each other for what seemed like forever. Finally, Petunia growled at me.

“Get out of my house.”

I was silent for a while, shocked and a bit confused about the whole thing. A few high pitched cries escaped my mouth.

“Get out of my house.” She said it again, but she sounded much more angry and upset.

“…b-but…I-” I managed to choke out a few words before she yelled those same words at the top of her lungs with intense fear and anger.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

I staggered back a bit, surprised by her sudden outrage. Then I just stood there, staring at poor Petunia. I don’t know why I didn’t run, but whether it was out of fear, or if I was still trying to help her and calm her down, I stood there, not moving.
Then she then started to throw things at me. She threw a skillet, a large wooden spoon, an orange, a large plastic bowl, and a spatula at me, all while shouting the same words over and over again.

“Get out of my house! Get out of my house! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

The things she threw at me either missed me, or hit me but didn’t hurt. I was flinching and dodging the things she threw at me, but still stayed in the same spot.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU FREAK!”

Petunia then reached for a large cutting knife and threw it at me. I dived out of the way and ran towards the door. I knew there was no helping her now. She was crazy and driven by anger and fear. I heard her coming after me and I stopped and looked back. I saw Petunia come around the corner from the kitchen and I saw something shiny above her. It was the knife she threw at me.

And it was being held by Mr. Pickles.

I stared at him wide eyed and full of fear.

“Please!” I pleaded to him. “Stop! Don’t kill her!” I was almost at the verge of tears.

“SHUT UP!” Petunia shouted at me.

“No, please! Let her live!”

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!”

I saw him loosen the grip on the knife and I scrambled towards Petunia. Even though she hated me, I didn’t want her to get killed.

“No! Stay away from me!” she cried. But I kept going. I knew she didn’t see the knife above me, and if I told her to get out of the way, it would be too late. I charged at Petunia, shouting for her at least to back away. But she stood her ground. I saw the knife slip from Mr. Pickle’s hand. I jumped up, trying to catch the knife before it hit Petunia.

“GET OUT OF MY-”

I caught the knife in my hands and slammed into Petunia, knocking her off her feet. She hit the ground hard and I fell on top of her.

I did it, I saved her. Now maybe she-

My thought was interrupted when I felt something wet and warm on her head. I panicked and looked up at her, and I was horrified. I was still holding the knife, but it was impaled in her head and skull. She had a blank, wide eyed expression on her face. A trail of blood leaked from her head and made a pool on the floor. I just stayed there, looking at her, not moving in shock and disbelief.

I killed Petunia.

I looked in the mirror in the other room. My face and hair had splatters of blood on it and there was a big blood stain on my white wool sweater. It did look like I deliberately stabbed and killed her. But I didn’t! I mean, I did, but I didn’t mean to! It was all Mr. Pickles fault!

I heard sirens outside. I looked up at Mr. Pickles standing on the fridge.

“W-why…?” I started crying.

Mr. Pickles just stared at me, smiling like he always is. I heard someone kicking at the door. He hopped down from the fridge and walked towards the door. I just stared at him. I didn’t even move. The door was barged open and a couple police officers came charging in. Mr. Pickles slipped out the door.

“No!” I cried. “Mr. Pickles!”

I reached an arm out for him, but I knew I couldn’t grab him and it was to late for him to come back. The officers saw me, gasped, and drew their weapons. I just stayed there on top of Petunia’s body.

“Miss,” said one of the officers, who was much taller than the other one. “Step away from the body and let go of the knife.”

“No! I didn’t do this!” I cried. “It was Mr. Pickles!”

“Ma’am,” said the short officer. “Please co-operate with us.”

“No! I didn’t do it!” I tried to explain. “Please! You got to believe me!”

“She’s delusional,” said the tall one.

“No, I’m not crazy! You’re making a big mistake!”

“Please, just step away from the girl,” said the short one.

“Please!” I shouted. Tears were rushing down my face. “Stay away from me!”

The tall police officer pointed his weapon at me, which was a taser, and fired it. My body reacted on impact, shaking violently and spazing out of control. I fell over off on the floor and off of Petunia’s body.

No, please…
My vision slowly faded and I passed out.


I woke up on a hard concrete floor. I got up and rubbed my eyes.

Where am I?

I noticed I was wearing an orange rugged prisoner’s outfit. I knew exactly where I was.

Prison.

I looked around at where I was. The walls were made of stone and covered the whole cell. There was a steel door across from
where I was. There wasn’t a knob or even a window. A small ceiling light flickered above my head. There was an old bed behind me and a sink across the wall.

You’ve got to be kidding me…

I heard something across the room and I looked over in that direction. A tray of food slid from underneath the door to my cell. I went over and banged on the door.

“No! Please!” I cried. “Let me out of here! I don’t belong here!”

Someone on the other side slammed on the door hard and I fell back.

“Quiet!” The voice boomed.

I stayed silent. I heard footsteps walk away from outside my door. I looked down at the food tray. There was some applesauce, a slice of beef, some peas, and-

“…”

I stared at the last item on the tray as it stood up, put on a top hat, and looked at me and smiled.

“Mr. Pickles!”

He tipped his hat to greet me. I picked him up and hugged him with joy. I was so glad to see my only friend. Even after what happened. I stopped hugging him and looked at him with concern.

“Mr. Pickles, why did you make me kill Petunia?” I asked him. “Why did you do it? I wanted to be friends with her.”

Mr. Pickles looked at me with his small black eyes and I immediately understood.

“Oh, you just want to be my only friend.” I said to him. “You’re afraid that if I get other friends, I might pick them over you. You’re worried that they might think I’m crazy because they can’t see who you really are and that I will leave you. Am I right, Mr. Pickles?”

Mr. Pickles bowed a bit as if he was nodding “yes”.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Mr. Pickles.” I hugged him again. “I don’t need other friends when I have you. You are my best friend, and nothing will ever change that. And if anyone or anything tries to get in our way…”

I stopped hugging him and looked at his eyes.

“…we’ll take care of them, won’t we Mr. Pickles?”

Mr. Pickles nodded again.

“I’m so glad you are my friend, Mr. Pickles. And now that we are here, we won’t be disturbed by anyone else. No one will try to come between us. We will be together forever.”

Mr. Pickles’ eyes seemed to twinkle from the light above us.

“Come on, why don’t we have some fun, shall we?”

He and I played together in the cell for a long time. In fact, I’m still here with him. Me and Mr. Pickles will always be together, and nothing could break us apart. There will be no one to think I am crazy and that he’s “just a pickle”. No one to say that I’m a freak or a fool. There would just be him and me and we would never be separated. And I will always love Mr. Pickles, even though he made me kill that girl Petunia. I forgive him for that. She was just trying to come between us and make me leave him. And I would never let that happen. Ever. After all, he was just doing a favor for me and I love him for doing that.


After all, what are best friends for?

© Copyright 2015 Huds (superh12345 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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