Custard's Last Stand
"Yankee Doodle" started to play, but still the little bastards waited, hiding in bushes, behind sheds, around the corners of houses. They were already sweating, anticipation the only exercise they'd gotten in preparation for this moment.
Finally they charged, their fat little bodies crossing the street, heaving at the sides of the ice cream truck. Moments later, they'd tipped it over and raided its contents. For the first time, the overweight children of the subdivision tasted success born out of teamwork— It tasted like ice cream sandwiches, like flag-colored popsicles dripping from their double chins, and man, was it good.
Matt Bell's writing has appeared in many different publications, including magazines such as Hobart, Barrelhouse, Caketrain, and McSweeney's Internet Tendency. He can be found on the web at www.mdbell.com