Member-only story
Feel the Wrath of the Ice-Cream Man
“Oh shit. Here comes that old bastard again.” groaned Simon as he pitched his dollar coin against the wall.
“Fuck, I hate that guy” sighed Michael walking over to pick up the coins that he had just won in their game of pitch and toss.
“Why does he have to be such a dick? I mean, if he doesn’t like people then he should have chosen a different job.”
“I know right. Have you any money left mate? I can lend you some from my winnings if you want?” smirked Michael while giving Simon a cocky smile.
“Nah, I’ve got enough. Will we go see this prick then?
“Let's do it.”
Clattering up the street, hissing and banging was a dingy old white van playing an ear piercing ‘melody’ through an old, beat up speaker mounted to the roof.
It was the ice-cream truck.
As it reached the boys the van pulled over to the side of the road and with an engine back-fire, the hunk of junk came to a rattling stop.
Simon and Michael stood on the curb, staring at themselves in the reflective side window of the van.
The window slid open, sounding like nails on a chalkboard, causing the boys to wince in pain while covering their ears.
