Bits and Bots, odds and sods, flotsam and jetsam - one-shots, really short contest entries, lyrics for imaginary musicals, poems...random stuff that you don't trash because maybe they'll fit into something bigger one day.
(Written for FoodKart's 'Summer Mishaps' Contest prompt: Someone left the freezer open.)
The phone kept ringing. Danny Suarez surrendered to the morning, opened his eyes, and checked the time. It was 5:12 a.m. He heard the answering machine pick up before he could get to his landline, an unintended parting gift from his last boyfriend, who'd simply vanished without a word, leaving half of his stuff behind. Oh well, Danny thought – great in bed - but he snored like a sputtering chainsaw.
"Danny," said the iron voice of Charlotte Rose, his boss, "We've got a problem. A big one. Take your morning piss, throw on your work clothes and get your ass over here within the hour."
This was the first emergency phone call Danny had ever received from this job. If it had been Petco, it usually involved catching something that had escaped its cage; If Barnes & Noble, a shipment of a new book by a popular author that arrived late in the day and had to be on display immediately. What an emergency at Banshee Ice Scream involved was yet to be determined.
Speeding down the 101, he hoped it was nothing he'd done. Holding two jobs while finishing a degree in Socio-Biological Anthropology was hard enough, without having to search for a new one. He was the last to arrive. Grabbing his thermos and go-cup, he joined his co-workers in front of the store. Charlotte was blocking the entrance. The clock in the window read '1:01 a.m.'
"Good morning, coneheads," she said. 'Coneheads' was her nickname for all her employees. "You see this clock? I found out just an hour ago that this city quadrant had a blackout last night, starting at 11:30 – 2 ½ hours after we officially closed. "
She proceeded to walk in a straight line, back and forth, like a drill sergeant. "You would not be standing here, quaking in your Sketchers, if that had been all. The temperature in our cold storage would have stayed cold enough to keep our ice cream frozen. But someone left that door open. Last night's temperature was 85 degrees. Which means we have soup instead of ice cream."
"Can't we freeze it again?" Danny asked.
"We make our ice cream by hand. Re-frozen homemade ice cream is like flat soda. We are, essentially, out-of-business today."
"Wait, Ms. Charlotte. Doesn't your partner own a bakery?" Danny asked. His ex-boyfriend had also left a stack of cooking magazines.
"Yes, but...?"
"Can the liquid ice creams be moved in their containers?"
"Yes, carefully..."
"Make ice cream cakes! It's just melted ice cream and flour. And they're good! Would your partner lend us an oven or two? And we'd pay them back for the flour!"
The idea worked. When your ice cream melts, let them eat cake.
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2 Cups melted ice cream, 1 ½ cups self-rising flour
Preheat oven to 350 F (175 C). Grease and flour an 8x4-inch loaf pan.
Mix ice cream, flour together just until moistened; spread into pan.
