The ice cream looks rich and vibrant. You hate ice cream that way - why does it always look so damn perfect!?

The man smiles. 'Choose a flavour little girl...' His mouth is moving but all you can focus on is his greasy hair, slicked on his head like an eel.

Wait! I'm not a little girl!

Wait! There's only one ice cream! WHAT DO YOU MEAN CHOOSE A FLAVOUR!??

Hmmmmm Decisions, decisions.

    Throw a barbie doll at the man.
    Tell Dad to go to work.
    Wake up.

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