It was all so sudden, I barely had time to react. Walking quickly back to work after a break, spotted was the mysterious truck. The closer I got, the clearer the form of a Ninja Turtle head became. Soon it was for certain: either the truck had TMNT ice pops, or they hadn’t changed their window stickers for over a decade. Both were plausible, but only one would afford me the natural high necessary to lift a house over my head and make it sing about being a house that can fly.
We’ve seen the Super Mario ice pops before, but what of the Turtles? The gentleman running the truck, a bit annoyed by my picture taking but not enough to skip doing business with me, grunted a bare “yes” when asked if they had any Turtle Pops. Two dollars and a requited stare of hatred later, and thar be a cherry-flavored melting Ninja Turtles in my hand.
The wrapper marked it as part of the neoclassic TMNT line; it’s not a stale throwback to the original run. But! There were TMNT ice pops nearly if not perfectly identical to these several years back. Even if you hate all the new Turtle shit, you’ve gotta appreciate it’s power to bring back the lost pop. The eyes are gumballs, and in that we’ve developed the perfect way to determine if someone’s really a true NInja Turtle fan:
If they refuse to eat the gumball eyes until the entire cherry ice pop is finished out of misfired loyalty toward their heroes, they’re true Ninja Turtle fans.
If they eat the gum long before, then they like gum better than Ninja Turtles.
Science. Personally, standing for even two minutes in public taking pictures of a Ninja Turtle ice pop seemed far worse than being branded an untrue fan, so I offered it to the gods. Others offered them used cigarettes. I think I scored a brownie point today.