[s4e20] Italian Ice -

"Lemon for the kid, Cherry for the lady," Tony said, scraping the metal paddle against the frozen block with a rhythmic shick-shick-shick .

Thirty seconds later, the sedan door opened. A man in a suit that cost more than the cart stepped out, wiping sweat from his brow. "Hot one, Tony," the man said, reaching for the blue cup. [S4E20] Italian Ice

The summer heat in New Jersey was thick enough to chew, the kind of humidity that made the asphalt feel like sponge. On the corner of 4th and Main, the "Bella Notte" cart was the only thing keeping the neighborhood from a heat-induced riot. "Lemon for the kid, Cherry for the lady,"

Little Joey grabbed his cup, his tongue already stained a radioactive yellow. "Thanks, Tony. My dad says this stuff is the only reason he doesn't move to Florida." "Hot one, Tony," the man said, reaching for the blue cup

Tony chuckled, but his eyes stayed on the black sedan idling across the street. In this part of town, some things stayed cold, and some things stayed quiet.

The man took a bite, winced at the brain freeze, and walked back to the car. Tony picked up his rag and started wiping the counter, the rhythmic scraping of the paddle starting up again as the next kid in line stepped up.

"Tell your dad the Lemon’s on me," Tony muttered, "but tell him I need to see him about that ‘delivery’ tonight."