T h E m YSTE r Y O f T h E NASTY ic E cr EA m

by A’Nya Griffin

one day, tWo friends Went outside to play with each other. They had some money, so they wanted to buy something. They were lucky, because it was summer, and the ice cream truck comes in the summer. Molly and Drake hoped the ice cream truck would come, and it did. They heard the song. They dashed to their houses, got the money, and went back outside to the sidewalk before the ice cream truck could even get there.

The ice cream truck got to them. The man was new because Molly and Drake had never seen him. The man had a nametag. His name was Dumb Bum.

The man said, “Hi, what can I do for you?”

“Hi, my name is Molly and this is Drake. Can we get some ice cream?”

“Yes, what kind would you like?” said Dumb Bum.

“I would like the peanut butter ice cream.”

“Okay, and you?” asked Dumb Bum.

“I would like the Bat Snacks ice cream swirl.”

“Yes, sir. Do you need something else?”

Don’t Stay Up So Late

“No, but thank you!”

The ice cream truck left then. Dumb Bum said, “Moo, hahahaha.”

Molly and Drake sat down on the front porch. They tasted it, and then spit it out and said, “That is the NASTIEST ice cream I have ever had, and I mean really nasty. What’s in there?”

“This has to be a mystery, because the man was new, the ice cream is nasty, and when the man left, he looked back. So there has to be a mystery,” Molly said.

“How do you know for sure?” asked Drake.

“I just know. Tomorrow we will ask him some questions.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, bye.” And they went home.

Then it was the next day, and they got up and went outside at ten am and played until the ice cream truck came. Finally, the truck came. They saw him. When he got closer, they started to ask him some questions.

“Hi, it’s me, Molly, and Drake,” Molly said.

“Oh yeah, how are you guys?” asked Dumb Bum.

“Great! Do you mind if we ask you a couple of questions?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Okay, what made you become an ice cream truck person?” Drake began.

“Well, I love kids and love people, and ice cream is good, so that’s why,” the ice cream truck driver responded.

“How old are you?” Molly asked.

Dumb Bum said, “Sorry, you don’t need to know how old I am.”

“Thirty-nine!” exclaimed Molly.

“How did you know?” asked Dumb Bum.