The Big Scoop

The Big Scoop

A Story by hattrick1090

        It all started out with a boy and his love for ice cream. How you could never separate this boy from his ice cream to whatever paths he would take. This is the story of a boy who could not let go. This is the story of a boy who would go to any lengths to keep his ice cream. He is the ice cream bandit, and this is the heist of the century.        

 It was the middle of the week, a Wednesday I recall, and wrestling camp had been going on for four days. If you ask any wrestler about wrestling camp he will tell you it is a love-hate relationship. How you hate the practices because you are stuck inside on beautiful summer days, but how you love the memories made from camp. You could not replace them for anything in the world. Not even a puppy. A really cute and fluffy one at that. It was custom that my friend and I would get ice cream after every meal. He would could get the always classic chocolate, while I chose the always delicious mint-chocolate chip. (With sprinkles of course. Without them would be absurd.) Bloomsburg cafeteria had a rule though. A terrible misfortune to me especially. It stated this. " No food is to be carried outside of the cafeteria ever. All who do not follow shall be punished." Bloomsburg was very strict about this rule. They carried it out with a strict policy stopping anyone who tried defying it. This may not sound bad to, but to someone who loves ice cream this much and loves taking it wherever his travels go, it is a terrible thing. Just imagine walking out into the blazing heat. It seems terrible…. because it is. Now, imagine yourself walking outside into the blazing heat with an ice cream cone. It is not so bad. The ice cream is your haven; it is your doorway to another realm where Eskimos with fur around their head speak to you in a strange tongue and where igloos are built, and where the cold crisps air bites at your skin. Not to mention, ice cream is absolutely heaven to your taste buds.        

 My friend Mike and I thought we had solved the system. Each day we wore large hats to the cafeteria. After the finish of our meal we would proceed to where the ice cream was located and have our fair share. Succeeding in this we would then wrap our ice cream cones in napkins and place it upon what we like to call our brains. Our hats looked very awkward upon doing this; it almost looked as if we were pretending to be a rapper or "gangster" in a rap music video. After this we would walk towards the cafeteria ladies standing by the main door where they swiped your cards to get food. Mike and I would walk out with devilish smiles on our faces knowing we have deceived the lunch ladies. We would walk outside with such joy exclaiming how we had tricked them. Unraveling the ice cream after this was the best part. We would partake in our treasure while boasting of our findings. There was one problem though. Many of the sprinkles were lost in the process of wrapping them up in napkins. It was a tragedy indeed. I needed to fix this. I needed my sprinkles.       

  The next day I decided to do something drastic. I decided to walk up to the entrance, look at the lady in front of the door, ice cream in hand, and run. I ran so fast I think the rubber on the bottom of my shoes had melted. I took pleasure in this knowing I had rebelled against the system, but something was missing. That bite of ice cream was not as satisfying as it could have been. I knew there was more, and I knew tomorrow was the last day so I had to come up with a plan. A heist that would never be forgotten.         

Twenty-four hours later the entire team sat down to dinner with a twinkle in our eyes. This was the last supper, and something big was coming. We took our trays to where they were to be scrubbed and washed. We then went to get our ice cream. We were gluttons in doing this piling on five, six, maybe even seven scoops. It was more than our hunger speaking though. It was a symbol. We lined up all fourteen of us in a single file row and marched toward the Gates of Mordor* where fate would either smite us or lay it's hand of blessing upon us. They had posted lunch lady guards all over the place near and many stood near the door due to my actions of the day before. We marched on command, as soldiers would have, myself leading the brigade, and we halted feet before the exit. They knew something was up, everyone did. It was a very awkward looking thing. Fourteen wrestlers in a row; all holding overflowing ice cream cones."Rebel!!!" I yelled. As planned we went on the code word. We stormed like a herd of elephants through those small gates. The cafeteria was in awe. They have never seen such a crazed event on their small little campus. No one had ever stood up against the tyranny. In the muffled background of the stampede you could hear, 'Kathy!!! They've escaped!!! Call for backup!" Twelve cafeteria workers stormed outside after us. We were wrestlers in peak shape. They were middle aged and mostly overweight. Not a finger was layed upon one of us. The campus security and police were called immediately, but they were too late. The coach was even aware of our heist. He was one of us; helping us in our getaway. All of our stuff was already packed away nicely, and the cars were there waiting for us with the engines already started. We hopped into our get away vehicles and drove off into the mountainous roads of Pennsylvania The last thing we saw driving off that campus was a police officer interviewing Gertrude the lunch lady. That day will forever be known as the great heist, and that is the scoop on that.

* In Lord of the Rings these are heavily guarded gates by the eye of Sauron,Nazgul, and orcs                  

© 2009 hattrick1090

Author's Note

Tell me your thoughts. Occasional grammar issues.... anything else really. Ignore that the paragraphs are not tabbed. Something strange happened when it was uploaded

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I really liked this.
I wish it was longer though.

Posted 11 Years Ago

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1 Review
Added on September 10, 2009
Last Updated on December 31, 2009



Ashburn, VA

I like to write more..