More specifically, there’s a hearty layer of neon goo drizzled over the top. It casts an eerie sheen on Ernie’s face, across the back of Dad’s seat.
He holds out the carton for me to see. “What the fuck is this?”
“Some kind of gimmick?” I reply, shrugging. I open my nacho box.
There’s a severed finger in my sweet potatoes.
And a cigar butt.
And everything’s swimming in neon goo.
Ernie sniffs his popcorn, makes a face. “Blarg. It smells like Clorox and taint.” He shoots me a questioning look. “Should we eat it?”
I glare at him. “Yeah, we should totally eat the food that’s glowing and has a severed finger and a cigar butt in it.” I grab the popcorn out of his hand, lean forward, tap Dad’s shoulder. “Hey, Dad. Our food is…weird.”
“Theo’s has a finger in it!” Ernie adds. “And cigars!”
I hold up my nachos for Dad to see.
He frowns, checks his own fare. The tell-tale neon glow lights up his face. He says, “Freaking Kaufman’s!” and closes the box, gets out of the car. He beckons for me and Ernie to hand over our food.
Ernie hesitates. “Wait, maybe they’re not all like that…” He opens the remaining popcorn cartons, finds a number-two pencil in one, a bronze medal in the other. Neon goo for days.
Needless to say, he turns everything over to Dad, who nods and, armed with our tainted vittles, tells us, “Close the door. I’ll be back.” He leaves the car.
Thanks for reading!