Daily Prompt: Flavor #32

Daily Prompt: Flavor #32

A local ice cream parlor invites you to create a new wacky flavor. It needs to channel the very essence of your personality. What’s in it?


Andy smoothed the front of his shirt and adjusted his paper hat for that rakish tilt that made him look more debonair. It was going to be the next customer, he knew it. He glanced in the mirror behind him and wished that his face was clearer but the mustache was looking pretty good. It would look better if it was darker. His blonde hair meant that he had to tilt his head just right for the light to catch the mustache and make it visible. He knew that by next week it would be full and lush. Heck, it took his dad three days to grow a mustache – he’d only been working on his for a little over a month.

The door chime sounded and he turned to see who the lucky customer was. Entering the shop at exactly the same time, were two customers walking abreast of one another, it was a tie. On the left was Mr. Simonson, an octogenarian who had lived in this burg forever and was seldom seen unless he were entering, or exiting the Fox Den, a dive bar on the corner of 17th and Elm. Andy had never been in there. On the right was Ms. Rearden. She was a retired widow who had been Andy’s sixth grade teacher. Andy pulled on the string that the morning manager had rigged up in anticipation of this event and the air horn went off. He had to tug it a little harder to get the confetti to spill out over the winners, who looked startled and ready to run. Then he pushed the button on the cassette player below the counter, starting the music. The William Tell Overture began to play. He only let it play two or three seconds then pressed the button again silencing the music.

“Wow,” Andy exclaimed. “We have two winners. Congratulations, you guys!”

“Excuse me?” whispered Ms. Rearden, “I need to sit down.”

“What are you talking about boy?” Mr. Simonson growled.

Andy explained the contest and said that one of them had earned the right to invent a new flavor of ice cream and have it bear their name, but since they had entered the store at exactly the same moment there were two winners. He made a spur of the moment decision and invented a twist to the game. Mr. Simonson would name the ingredients for the Ms. Rearden flavor and she would decide the same for the Mr. Simonson flavor. It was agreed and Simonson was to go first.

He turned and looked Ms. Rearden up and down several times. “This is pretty tough, ‘cause I don’t know you at all. I have to base this solely on your appearance, understand?” Everyone nodded in unison. “First,” he said thoughtfully, “vanilla to represent the soft white color of her hair.” Andy scribbled this down on his pad of paper. “Melons,” said Mr. Simonson, “because, well, uhm,” he cleared his throat, “I mean look at her. Right?” Nobody nodded this time but Andy dutifully wrote it down. Ms. Rearden was beginning to look a bit uncomfortable.

“Jalapenos and tomatoes should finish it off. But they should be really juicy tomatoes.” Mr. Simonson stuck his thumb up and leered at Ms. Rearden.

Ms. Rearden pulled the collar of her dress closer together and higher on her neck. “My turn?” she asked. When red-faced Andy nodded she continued, “Trim the outsides from a loaf of bread and put that in there.” She paused to think, “Beer, definitely beer. No, no, wait. It has to be cheap beer.” Andy was writing feverishly as she continued. “Lastly we need to add syrup of ipecac. That should do nicely.”

“I’m not sure what that last one is.” Andy said.

“Me either.” Chimed in Simonson, looking a bit puzzled.

“Syrup of ipecac is an emetic,” Ms. Rearden explained, “used to induce vomiting. I think these ingredients should represent this gentleman well as he seems to be a crusty drunk who makes me want to puke.” She spun on her heel and left the shop.

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