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One day, O2 comes home from the pickle factory where he works and confesses to his new wife that he has a terrible urge to stick his penis into the pickle slicer. His wife suggests he see a sex therapist to talk about it, but O2 says he’d be too embarrassed, and he vows to overcome the compulsion on his own. One day a few weeks later, O2 comes home absolutely ashen.
"What’s wrong, O2?" his wife asks.
"Do you remember that I told you how I had this tremendous urge to put my penis into the pickle slicer?"
"Oh, O2, you didn’t."
"Yes, I did."
"My God, O2, what happened?"
"She and I both got fired."
"What’s wrong, O2?" his wife asks.
"Do you remember that I told you how I had this tremendous urge to put my penis into the pickle slicer?"
"Oh, O2, you didn’t."
"Yes, I did."
"My God, O2, what happened?"
"She and I both got fired."
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