Beware. Evil lurks on the streets of your very neighborhood, disguised in Good’s clothing. Evil comes delivered in many shapes and sizes – cups, cones, even on a stick. But fear not the message; for it is the messenger we shall fear today.
The ice cream truck approaches. Its song plinks out into the streets. Children everywhere count their change and beg their parents for that last few needed nickels just to eke out a box of Lemonheads to go along with their Fat Frog. Smiles. Laughter. Puppies and Lollypops. Bunnies and Barbeques.
The ice cream truck approaches. The song plinks louder and louder. Children run outside, slamming their screen doors. Shouts of glee, summertime joy. “I want a King Cone!” ”Make mine a Toasted Almond!” “Strawberry Shortcake, hooray!” Oh the naiveté of youth. How soon they must learn. Cries of fear, summertime Hell. The ice cream truck approaches.
The ice cream truck is exactly in line with Children’s front door. For one last moment, the ice cream truck retains its Good. Sun shines. Bird sings. Fox does whatever it is Fox does. Excitement rolls to a boil, and Smiles threaten to dislodge jaws.
Then the transformation begins. The ice cream truck passes on its way to stop and vend treats at the corner. The plinking song, which once tickled the ears like pop rocks in the nose, is twisted and bent into an evil hymn, mocking the innocence and carefree frivolity of Children. The Doppler Effect, once thought to be an innocent bystander in the world of Physics, here manifests itself as a putrid molester of Goodness, a mutilating force that transforms the ice cream truck into an “I scream” truck. Gummy worms become real worms. Rocky road turns to rocks and bits of road. The rocket pop does some serious damage, not to mention the atomic warheads.
And then an Evil Clown jumps out and kills everyone. Just because he feels like it.
Beware. Learn the ice cream truck’s route. Know its movements. Get inside its head. Stay ahead of it! Whatever you do! Stay ahead of it! Don’t let its Evil song lull you to your Death! Stuff cotton in Children’s ears! Lash yourself to some kind of mast, like Odysseus so you know when it passes! Whatever you do, don’t heed its call of Evil!
But could you pick me up a Chipwich? Thanks, man.