If you wish to have a conversation with me then you must never ask me of my favourite ice cream flavour. The last time that happened, well, let me take it from the top. I was just miding my own business, preparing a bowl of Kraft macroni noodleson my stove top until I heard the jingle of the local ice cream truck. Me. being a lonely man-child was delighted to hear this sound as the last time I had ice cream it had been more than a decade ago.Rushing down to the edge of my street corner, I wasved my fist full of quarters in hopes to catch the ice cream man's attention. Luckily, my attempts succeded and the ice cream man stopped by my neighbors drive way. I walked up to the side of the truck with a smile on my face and the ice cream man greated me. I wanted to make sure that my selection of flavour was worth while since this was the only time the ice cream man ran down the street for another ten years. I asked for the man's suggestion, and he replied with " well what is your favourite flavour?" I had never really considered this question since i hadn't tasted the frozen treat in so long. This had occupied so much of my time deciding a flavour, but being caught up with this dilemma, I had completely forgotten about my Kraft macaroni and chesse, and my house and burned down due to the stove catching on fire. The police wouldn't believe me when i blamed the ice cream man for the act of terrorism, and now every ten years, the ice cream man continues to drive by seeking his next victim, and I rue everyday I don't get my Kraft macaroni and cheese