#910 pickles

[xx-lemon-drop-xx]

•°•°•A normal day in Valhalla•°•°•

Hades: So young.. Damn, what happened to you, (Y/n)?

Shiva; dead serious: How many pickles can you shove up your ass?

Hades: [Stunned Silence, Planchette moves across board]

Hades; concerned: Nine?

Hermes: Ninety-one!?

Buddha: [Absolutely loosing his shit over in the corner]

Shiva: Nine-hundred and ten!?

Göll; concerned: Nine-hundred and ten pickles...?

[idkamilost]

Since I can’t animate, I decided to draw it! I posted it on my TikTok account first, so that’s the username that appears in the video.

The audio is from this DomCage video. Skip to 2:18 for the clip.

[starkid256]

[nobody-nexus]

I promise I'll do something serious with this AU soon but I can't deny how much I fucking love this idea

(The Influencer belongs to @ask-the-rag-dolly)

[munchableart]

pov: Marcus died (aka dumbasses doing dumbassery)

[novelist-becca]

That one clip of “how many pickles can you shove up your ass” is playing over and over in my head and I can’t stop laughing at it

[whspermy-name]

I FEEL LIKE IF WE MADE A LEGIT PODCAST IT'D BE SO COOL BRO

Until I get us cancelled for saying something hella out of pocket

[sonicwind-01]

910 PICKLES?? (loud volumn warning~)

[sergeantwoods]

incorrect quotes because i said so.

Soap: my house, my rules. Ghost: my knife, your life. Soap: oh, uh.

-

Soap, running from the enemies on a mission: A B C D E F G! gummy bears are chasing me! Soap, running faster: one is red, one is blue! one is trying to steal my shoe! Soap, sprinting to exfil: NOW IM RUNNING FOR MY LIFE CAUSE THE RED ONE HAS A KNIFE!!!

-

Gaz and Ghost talking to Soap via ouiga board: Gaz: Soap, how many pickles can you shove up your ass? Soap, moving the planchette: 9 Ghost: 9 ?! Soap, moving again: 1 Gaz: 91 ?!? Soap, moving once more: 0 Ghost, obviously distressed as Gaz cackles in the background: 910 ???

-

Ghost: its not easy being the disappointment of the team. but here the fuck i am. gang gang bitch.

-

Price: i hate all serial killers. Ghost walks into the room. Price, singing: but when he stabs me!!

-

Soap: why is dark spelled with a K and not a C? Gaz: thats a good question! Soap: because you cant see in the dark

-

Soap: woww!! you’re so tall!!! like a giraffe!!! Ghost: thats why you dead built like a baked bean. Soap: a ba- a baked bean??? Ghost, smirking: a baked bean.

[swaprandaljade]

randal how many pickles can you shove up your ass... imsorry.

"9."

"9?!"

"91."

"91?!!??"

"910."

"910?!??! WHAT."

[a-is-for-arson]

Gravity Falls x Hazbin Hotel

Dipper: What happened to you Angel? Mabel: How many Pickles can you shove up your ass? Mabel: 9? Dipper: 91??? Dipper: 910?!?!!? Mabel: 910 pickles????????

[idkamilost]

Ok so, I had a vision

Dedede: Asked the question

Meta Knight: Done w/ this bullsht

Kirby: Doesn’t know what is happening

Bandee: “…910 pickles..?”

(Original clip by DomCage)

Please tell me I am not the only one who sees this happening

[h0bg0blin-meat]

Ryan: *during an investigation, in front of an Ouija board* So young damn, what happened to you Jack?

Shane: How many pickles can you shove up your ass?

*pause*

Planchette: 9

Ryan: 9??

Planchette: 1

Ryan: 91????

Planchette: 0

Ryan: 910????????

Shane: *almost about to die laughing*

Ryan: 910 PICKLES???? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[eldritch-spouse]

Reader contacting Vesper with an Ouija board is like the 910 pickles meme

[I thought you were talking about the Dane Cook "and the pickles~!!!" joke.]

The planchette rapidly moves from letter to letter, whatever's in your residence doesn't allow you to lead the conversation or ask questions first, apparently burning to have contact with you.

" V I X E N "

You gulp.

" L E T M E I N "

" W- Who am I talking to? "

" B I G D A D D Y "

The walls start shaking, a chorus of inhuman moaning and whining you have no idea the origin of installs itself in the whole house. Something invisible and sharp tickles its way up your spine for a brief moment.

You turn to the scandalized priest holding the other end of the planchette. He looks moments away from heart failure and bowel control loss.

" See, this is what I was telling you about-"

The planchette moves again without letting you finish.

" I L L F U C K H I M T O O "

[0lympian-c0uncil]

*Hermes Apollo and Dionysus playing with an Ouija board*

Apollo: so young damn... what happened to you Jack?

Hermes: How many pickles can you shove up your ass?

Apollo: Jack how-.....

Dionysus: ....

*Planchette moves to the number 9*

Hermes: NINE-

*Planchette moves to the number 1*

Dionysus: NINETY - ONE-

*Planchette moves to the number 0*

Apollo,*pulling his hair*: NINE-HUNDRED AND TEN!??!?

Hermes and Dionysus: * dying of laughter*

Apollo,*in shock*: 910 pickles......

[the-kr8tor]

Hehe 910 PICKLES??? Ooo I'm gonna doodle hobie and syn as ghosts once exam revision + exams are over (After Tuesday next week I shall be officially out of the chains of exams and free to doodle) Also I better know when this blog officially turns a year old- cus you bet I'm gonna do a juicy, angsty lil gift for it >:) Daily Hobie HC!! You and Hobie were best friends as children. Practically tied at the hip, doing everything together. Of course, there were tough times. Bullies, fights, blood and tears, but nothing could break the bond. He gifted you a bracelet for you two to match. The last sighting you've had of him before he disappeared. Your thirteenth birthday, alone, and without Hobie by your side. Every birthday is a shell of a promise. "When we're twelve, we can go see the stray kitties!" "When we're thirteen, we can go....." "When we're fourteen.." Eventually the empty promises became blurred in your head, much to your dismay. How did he even look like again? Would he look the same, now, if he wasn't dead? He left you then. And now? Look at you. A tough member of a little rebellion group, roaming around the darkened streets to think over the memories, trying to desperately revive those times where he mentioned something, anything, about being older.

But why were you holding onto this? It's been years, and he's probably dead. His life was tough, always has been. Perhaps he ran to avoid it. And kept running ever since. You glance down at your wrist, the worn out matching bracelet still snug on your wrist. Of course, there were red lines from the fact it was so small, but you kept it on, moving it sometimes throughout the day so you didn't restrict any blood flow. However, you stopped in your tracks upon hearing a certain voice. A voice that belonged to a very recognizable person, going by the name of Spider-Man. You remember a few other members of the underground rebellious group wanting to join ties with him at least, so you follow the voice, keeping your footsteps effortlessly light. The only thing that could give you away now are the spidey-senses, but if you're quick enough, you could possibly get past it. As you near the punk Spider-Man, you see him beginning to turn around as his spidey-senses go off. However, you managed to buckle his knees in and knock him out just in time.

Only God knows how you managed to drag him back to your house, but you did it, tying him to a chair to ensure a passive encounter. He's very clearly blacked out from your attack, and so you roll up his mask to rest on his nose, making sure he can breathe just fine. Since it was night, you had no problem just collapsing onto the couch and dozing off, with your mind waking you up at exactly 6 AM in the morning. You glance over to Spider-Man, tied in the chair, having gained consciousness the same time as you, looking around the place. With a yawn, you greet him, throwing on your robe over the clothes you slept in and putting the kettle on for some tea.

He's confused by your unbothered and non-threatening acts, slowly beginning relaxed in your presence as you both simply just engage in conversation. You unsheathe a nearby pocket knife, undoing one of his hands from the chair as you go to grab you both some tea, simply just taking casually about the corruption and crime of the city. However, Hobie is rendered silent by what he sees. A worn out, matching bracelet on your wrist, his eyes widening in shock. Slowly he puts the cup on the table, prompting you to raise a brow at him. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out the other half of the bracelet, small and worn out as well. He holds it out in front of you, watching your face contort into a mix of emotions, tears brimming at your eyes as he smiles at you. He calls out your name, watching as you hurriedly cut away the rest of his ropes. Hobie is quick to wrap you in his arms, burying his face into your shoulder as small tears fall onto your skin. You easily reciprocate the hug, taking in his warmth and letting the smell of his perfume (hehe) wash over you You found him. You finally found him, after years. He's back. I have been trying to send this for legit a few hours now I am so tired :(. -🐦‍⬛

That's a lot of pickles 😮

Oohhh that already sounds amazing!!! I bet it'll look as good as the anon drawings you did awhile ago!

The anniversary will be on the 25th! You'll know bc I have a lil something something planned 😉

DAILY HOBIE HC!!!! ��

GAHHHH!!!! I WAS READING THIS WITH MY EYES WIDE OPEN BC IT WAS SO GOOD! TRULY NEEDED SOME POPCORN WHILE READING IT

Oh I'm a sucker for best friends reuniting 🥹🥹🥹

R was so mean for beating the crap out of him lmaoooo 😂 they're like "spiderman?! *Cracks knuckles*" also also i think he didn't notice them immediately bc his spider senses didn't work on them bc it was like "bestie?"

Oh noooo!! Get some rest, my love ❤️ ily