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I agreed with him the flavor did seem a bit exotic but he dis advertise it on the side of his building and I wanted to try some. Scratching his head he stepped outside and looked carefully up at the side of his building. Coming back inside he approached me again. Looking deep into my eyes with a strange expression on his face he asked, “We don’t stock this particular flavor but I’ll whip up a batch if you’re sure you really want it. We’ll need cash in advance for special orders like this.” As he said this several other people at the counter expresses a desire to try Diesel Beer Ice Cream, some in a dish with chocolate topping and some in cones like mine but with sprinkles. Everyone seemed to go along with the cash in advance idea and the counter was suddenly littered with money in all denominations. The man seemed confused by the instant popularity of this flavor. On the way into the kitchen I heard him mutter under his breath, “I knew we shouldn’t have opened this place so close to Mount Perry.” Just as he was about to vanish into the kitchen he turned to me and asked, “What flavor beer should I use and did you want # 2 Diesel or Bunker Crude.” Someone down the line called out a brand of beer. Not being much of a drinker any more I let his desire cover mine but I did request the Bunker Crude because I knew from my time with heavy equipment, Bunker Crude was smooth and hardened in a cold environment. The man nodded in agreement and the man in the doorway to the kitchen slid the rest of the way into the kitchen. We could see him in there measuring ingredients into an Ice Cream maker. One of his helpers raced to the beer refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of the beer the man down the counter from me had asked for. Another helper went out to the back and returned with a bucket full of black oilily looking stuff. The man at the Ice Cream maker blended the ingredients like a sorcerer at his cauldron. The only thing missing was fumes and sparks rising from the machine before him and an eerie glow emanating from the concoction casting him in silhouette to the people at the counter waiting impatiently for their first taste of Diesel Beer Ice Cream. At long last the Diesel Beer Ice Cream was ready and served to us with all the flourish of a first class restaurant’s main course. I had to admit this was some pretty strange looking stuff. Diesel Beer Ice Cream looked a lot like, “Cookies and Cream Ice Cream” but with a bit of foam on top. The kind usually found at the top of a glass of beer. Obviously the Bunker Crude Oil had solidified and was broken up in the cream like chocolate chips. Although anxious to try this new flavor, I thought it might be best to retire to the outside of the place to try it. Once in the parking lot I stuck my tongue to it. It was as awful as it sounded. I immediately dumped the rest of the cone and ice cream into a nearby trash can and made for my car where I carried a bottle of water. I rinsed my mouth out several times then headed for home. As I was leaving the parking lot several Emergency Rescue Trucks roared in and pulled up to the front door of the restaurant. I thought to myself, “WOW! I just got out of there in time, they must be serving bad food or something.” I recognized several of the people being carried out as others who has demanded Diesel Beer Ice Cream. I couldn’t help but wonder what they had eaten to make them so sick. I made up my mind on the spot to never go into this place again. AUTHOR: Robert P. Herbst  TAGS: Literary Work Home time BOOKMARK: Digg it | Add to Del.ICIO | Add to FARK ACTIONS: Comment Save Print Register free acount  |
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