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You are in a suburban area in Australia, and you suddenly hear chimes in the distance. They are playing "Greensleeves", and getting louder. You quickly scramble for some coins and your shoes, flinging open your front door and running down to the kerbside. You wave your arm and flag down the tall van, cadillac pink on the bottom and white on the top. The van pulls up, the deafening chimes stop. You watch as the man behind the steering wheel gets up, and slides into the back of the van from the inside.  He peers through the window in the van's side, leaning over the counter. The various fridges and freezers are endlessly purring behind him. He asks you what you want.

So many choices! Single cone or double? Dipped in sherbet, hundreds & thousands, chocolate, nuts? A chocolate flake sticking out for sure!

The man pulls a lever, and white soft serve comes oozing out into the cone. With deft circles of the wrist, he spirals the icecream higher and higher on the cone. A flake is inserted, then the man takes your coins and gifts you the cold sweet treat in return. You wander back up to your house with your mouth full of heaven. Behind you, a car pulls up behind the van and smiling children pile out, running up to the van's window. You muse that you are lucky to live on Mr Whippy's usual route, so you don't have to chase down the source of the elusive chimes to obtain soft serve heaven. You close your front door behind you, and a little while later "Greensleeves" starts blasting out in chimes again, fading down the road.

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