Schwartz and the mega-super-ultra-stupendous ice cream sundae

I got an email a couple days ago from someone asking for another Schwartz story, so here is one from way back in the day. Since my memory is not really all that great, this story is how I best recollect things. This means that this story may be completely different than how it happened, or an elaborated version of real events.

Schwartz and the mega-super-ultra-stupendous ice cream sundae

We were once hanging out in downtown Toronto, enjoying a nice day strolling around the busy streets. I don’t remember what we were doing down there, except it was a rather warm day and there were plenty of birds chirping. Walking into a nearby mall, we walked around and window shopped, Schwartz looked at the clothing and accessories stores, while I carefully perused the computer and gadget places. After a while, Schwartz told me he was in the mood for something, something cold and delicious. Unaware of what he could be referring to, we continued to ramble, until we happened upon an ice cream stand. Schwartz’s eyes lit up and I thought of my Dad saying “make sure your big eyes match your stomach”. It was hard to take in the multitude of flavors and options; there was just so much milky goodness. I decided on one of my all time favorites, a scoop of daiquiri ice, which is a strange tasting pale green sorbet. I was also eyeing the tiger tail, another favorite of mine. It made up of orange sherbet filled with swirls of melted black licorice and quite a good contrast. My usual third option is my fallback plan, French vanilla. If it was not for the fact I was lactose intolerant, I would be eating a whole lot more of plain vanilla ice cream.

Getting back to Schwartz, he was thinking about going for the mega-super-ultra-stupendous ice cream sundae. This amazing sundae contained everything a mega-super-ultra-stupendous ice cream treat should, a dozen huge scoops of ice cream, a split banana, peaks of whip cream, all topped off by sprinkles, nuts and of course, cherries. I don’t think in the history of the ice cream shack had someone actually ordered a mega-super-ultra-stupendous ice cream, and the woman at the counter asked twice to make sure this is what he really, really wanted. Confirming that he really did want a mega-super-ultra-stupendous ice cream treat, could pay for it, and would probably eat several, the nervous counter woman started to scoop the ice cream. I think she may have felt a little guilty, since it’s like someone going in to a store and asking for a thousand corn beef sandwiches, they just have to make sure you don’t want to just put an end to everything. After all, who hasn’t heard of death by chocolate? Scoop by scoop the ice cream started piling up in the enormous sundae dish. I lost count of how many there were, first came the plain vanilla scoops followed by chocolate. Jamaican chocolate rum, cookie dough, fudge, maple walnut, strawberry cream, cookies and cream, cream and cookies and many, many more followed. Once the ice cream was arranged just so on the tray, an entire can of whipped cream, or several thousand calories worth, followed. From the forests of Brazil rained hundred of various nuts, closely followed by a rainbow of sprinkles and candy bits. Not to be outdone, several scoops of crushed cookie were liberally applied, and to top it all off, enough cherries to, well, enough cherries. The mega-super-ultra-stupendous ice cream sundae was all its name said it would be, and a lot more. After waiting patiently as this stupendous ice cream concoction was created, Schwartz dug in with gusto.

I won’t go into detail about what happened next, suffice it to say he stared the sundae in the eye, and it didn’t blink. Since that day, I think about projectile vomiting in a whole new way. The lesson to learn here is, if the ice cream is mega-super-ultra-stupendous, just walk away and leave it alone before it comes looking for you.