Why do they always build the ice cream establishments in the sun?
Maybe they don’t.
But I think they do.
Every time this professor goes for ice cream, the sun is shining on my back. Beating down like the rod of discipline, or something.
Once, I went to the ice cream establishment with Schwarz Tauptinker.
It was a mistake.
“Can I help you?” the girl in that cool, sweetly smelling ice cream establishment asked. (See, we had to wait outside. Imagine.)
“Sure can,” this professor said. “I’d like a cherry milkshake, please.”
“Absolutely,” she answered. “For you?” She’d turned to Schwarz.
“I don’t know, chickit!” he said. “What do you have?”
“Flavors are right in front of your face,” she answered. Not very polite.
“But it’s hard to see them,” I said. “Someone built your establishment in the sun. Hard to read in the sun.”
She rolled her eyes. (Her name tag said Megan.)
“Do you have a menu?” I pressed.
“Are you guys for real?” she asked.
The line was building.
“Of course I’m real, you know!” Schwarz answered. “Okay…I got it. Do you have moose ice cream?”
“Moose tracks?” she tried to clarify.
Schwarz shook his head. “Nah! Just moose.”
“I bet you mean moose tracks,” Megan said.
“Me too,” I said.
“Do not!” Schwarz said.
Then I got tapped on the shoulder.
I turned. “Yes?”
There was a fellow there in a pink shirt and a lady in a blue shirt. Mixed up, you see.
“Could you two hurry?” he asked. It was polite, too. So, I was in a good mood almost at once.
“Is it hot in the sun?” I asked.
Now he was getting rude.
“Look over there! Look at the strange bird in the tree.”
Now, Schwarz had been having speaks with Megan this whole time.
He’d apparently ordered.
His cone—when it came—had something green on the bottom, blue in the middle, and black on the top.
“Chickit!” he said, taking it.
“That’s a monster,” this professor said. “And look how big the line is!”
“I hate it,” Schwarz said.
And he threw the cone over his head.
I never did get that cherry milkshake.