I'll roll it through my street for the very first time, blasting the shit out of Grand Funk Railroad. Everyone will lower their sunglasses in awe, and my ice cream truck will rock so loudly, it'll shatter their aviators, but I've got some ice cream to make it all cooler!
Derek will be so impressed: "Yo man, that's a really cool truck! Must've cost all the pennies you had, especially with that baller sound system!"
Tom will just wanna know: "She's gotta have a name, so what do you call her?"
I'll give them this look as if the name just came to me right then-and-there and say "Well, I think I'll call it the Johnny B. Goode Humor!"
ALL the girls will crowd my truck, but because I'm an ice cream gentleman, I won't suggest popsicles. Perfect Summer Girl will write her name & number on a wrapper and it won't even be a joke, especially when she turns to give me 'that look,' like "it's not even a joke."
On the tail end of his lunch break, Dave leaned against the hotdog shack, transfixed by the same old ice cream truck across the street, just gathering dust-and-rust in the field by some old house. He stood up and nodded as he wiped his hands of excess poppy seeds, and grabbed a phone out of his pocket to finally call the number on the truck's "For Sale" sign.
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