The Frosty Demise of Uncle Hank

My Uncle Hank lived up north and lord did that man love his Tasty Freeze beverages. He drank one every day, alternating between Bursting Blueberry and Suicide Cherry. He drank an extra-large freezie until his lips turned blue or red, respectively, and then he went out and chopped wood for eighteen straight hours.

One bitchy cold winter it got down to forty degrees below zero in Uncle Hank's little town. You'd think this would dispel a man of his freezie hunger , but the dude had to have his Tasty Freeze beverage anyway, I mean the man was positively hankering for artificially flavored convenience store ice, so he went to get himself one.

He made it to the gast station alright, placed his order alright, and started slurping on the freeze alright (Busting Blueberry, that dark day) but as soon as he stepped himself outside the liquid particles of freezie froze instantly in his lungs. He died face down in the snow, feet stuck between the gas station's automatic doors. Slam, slam, slam.

Like Paris Hilton at 7 AM, it wasn't a pretty sight.