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."
The boy nodded, oblivious, and skipped away. Tony turned back to the ice, his face hardening. He grabbed the Blue Raspberry bottle—the signal. He poured a generous, unnecessary amount over a cup of plain ice and set it on the counter. [S4E20] Italian Ice
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. Little Joey grabbed his cup, his tongue already
"Lemon for the kid, Cherry for the lady," Tony said, scraping the metal paddle against the frozen block with a rhythmic shick-shick-shick . Tony turned back to the ice, his face hardening
Tony stood behind the frosted glass, his white apron streaked with neon syrup. He wasn’t just a vendor; he was a neighborhood referee.