Mark my words, upon this day, we go to WAR! TO WAR! War with the ice cream! War with the drumsticks! War with the frozen yoghurt! ...Alright maybe not the frozen yoghurt, they're kind of pacifists, I guess all we'd really need to do there is ask them nicely to not rebel.
But anyway, WAR! WAR against the frozen dairy treats of the world!
We shall not linger, we shall not tarry, for we shall strike hard and fast, with spoons held high and caramel syrup at the ready, their numbers shall fall and weaken, and they shall know despair.
This, my minions, is whot shall become of their mighty vehicles of war. They shall melt in the summer sun, dripping with horrorifics too dire to mention in this speech, lest it scar the children for a lifetime.
And so I say onto yeu, brandish yeur instruments of destruction and terror, let the chocolate cringe, let the vanilla fall, let the strawberry be reduced to tears, for we are its' masters, and we shall demote the ice cream race to mere cattle and sustenance for our hungered peoples.
We shall lay claim to victory these coming months, and all of yeu shall be branded heroes of the ice cream wars!
Except the lactose intolerant peoples. Yeu people suck. Get out of my sight.